My mother took this picture about one year before she died.
The odor of hog manure remindes me of my father.
I remember once, very young, before my mother died, of sitting with my younger sisters on the porch swing and hearing a frightful noise in our garage.
“What’s that?” one sister asks.
“Daddy.” I say. “I can smell him.”
Dad laughed, giving himself away.
He really had meant to spook us kids, and was surprised himself, that his occupational scent had betrayed him.
Dad is a neat dresser.
If you know me then understand that my father is not like me. The garden mud and dirt I carry on shoes and clothes, into public places, I consider a sort of public reminder of the physical human work required to grow food that people eat, a fertile growing medium into which culturally disconnected lives can find root to substance and meaning, my body serves as more than a walking educational billboard and odorama for what I faithfully sell in the shape of fruits and vegetables as honest labor. I consider my appearance and smell, a deliberate, easy, “in your face” type of public awareness service.
But then I raise fruits and vegetables. My dad raised hogs and cattle.
And my Dad is neat. As a younger man, dashing, today: still handsome - in my view.
As I grew up, Dad and his older brother, Uncle John, were partners in a cattle and hog farm operation in the slightly eastern center of Kansas. About half the land they farm is native pastures, the rest farmed in wheat and milo. Though the partnership was dissolved and land divided between them after I left home, the land is still farmed by them, plus two cousins, my sister and and their families.
All of us third generation Americans were raised within 2 miles of the original farmstead my Great Grandfather bought shortly after immigrating from Germany at the age of 20.
Great Grandpa Roth was a German draft dodger. He began partying a week before his report date. He was in such bad shape by the time he got to the induction center they sent him home for a week to recover.
He and his girlfriend and future wife took the opportunity to get on a boat instead, and follow the 10 year old trail of his older sister to the very heartland of America, Clay Center, Kansas - to be exact.
Canes were popular weapons then, and cane fights common. When the two young people finally stepped off the train in Clay Center in August of 1883 Great Grandpa Roth clutched his cane, ready to fight off wild indians, so I am told.
I see my Great Grandparents standing there, cane in hand, strangers in a very strange land. Though the hills deceptively resembled those they had grown up in, the country was different. They would not have known about the great wars to come against their motherland, could not have forseen Prohibition, the Dust Bowl or the Great Depression. Probably did not know they stood near the very center of this new nation, in the center of what would be called the Bible Belt, in the center of what would be learned to be the tornado belt. The country's lessons would be often harsh and involve generations.
Trying to figure out who I am I have found myself trying to figure out who they were, expecially this man , and how came this distance of me from him.
Looking back, it seems to me, Great Grandpa John Roth was a deliberate, hardworking man who liked wine. He liked smoke. He was a strict disiplinarian, sometimes subject to temper and foul German language.
He ruled his household more by fear than by affection, and judged the success of his life by the land he came to own and farm, the force and habit of his religious practice, and the seven children he raised. More or less in that order.
And as his children tell it, he softened in his old age, maybe I think reversing that order.
My Great Grandfather's fine children embraced his religion as resolutely as they rejected his personal habits and pleasures.
He died at the age of 84, 4 years and 15 days before I was born.
I was born into a world surrounded by his youngest son's children, my father and my aunt and two uncles, who all (including Grandpa) grew up, married, settled down and raised us children; me - my 4 sisters - and a slew of cousins, within 3 miles of the origional home/farmstead he bought 5 miles from the small town of Green, Kansas. Land about 12 miles from where Great Grandpa and Grandma first stepped off that train.
In the years of my growing up I never heard any of their children or grand children utter a foul word, saw any of them sip a taste of alcohol, or smoke. As a child I came to understand that for me to do so would be for me to personally insult God.
Though it would be a sin to think I was not damned already, to curse, drink or smoke would make it so, even in their minds' eyes. (Like perhaps they see the unspeakable faults of my Great Grandpa Roth.) Though today, generally, I have grown grateful for the distance such ingrained education places between me, and drink and smoke, I was in my early 20's, in psycho-scream therapy and 1500 miles away from that home place when I finally came to experience the power of saying the unspeakable names of God.
They came out of my mouth as sacred revelation, four letter words as divine lightning. Words preceded, preordained, and dwarfed by the locomotive power of personal release, deep, heart wrenching truth.
I have wondered since of the power of words, imagining the terror, awe and wonder of the first humanoids to contemplate SAYING. It is divine and dangerous work.
When God brought the animals to Adam to be named, Adam must have shaken with terror, for he must have felt that to call out the wrong name tugs the very plug of Creation and saws the thread of his own existence.
He has to understand that all SAYING, all words, are names for different aspects of God. To SAY incorrectly calls out the wrong aspect of God, causing cosmic short circuit and meltdown. To SAY incorrectly is sin.
Somehow I make the connection that classic tragedy is always dependent on an unspoken, unacknowledged truth.
Redemption depends on speaking and acknowledging truth, doing what is forbidden, what puts you most at risk, before it is too late. I had looked deep into the mirror and examined my Methusulah's face and survived my unspeakable truths.
And because I did this think, I believed there was a wall between me and my family.
When I was 43 years old I found out that my Grandmother, mother of my father, died in a mental institution, "Kansas State Hospital."
Unlike the revelations that came in therapy, this one came easy, and the insight it gave to my past was just as powerful. I understood my family more than I had.
I know nothing of the causes particular: biological, psychological, medical, social, etc., that contributed to her illness, nor the circumstances surrounding her illness or death - though I have tried to imagine them and hope to learn more someday.
I had thought that my open mental angst and psycho-bleating (and healing) was a fault that put a distance between me and all of them, a distance I did not want. But to discover my Grand Mother's anguish, and her children's - at last - was a gift. I saw that what I thought kept me apart - placed me to the heart of my family.
This was the gift my Grandmother gave me with her suffering, and I claim it gladly, for it places me where I want and chose to be.
The smell of hog manure reminds me of my father. And so, is a pleasant reminder.
Showing posts with label Farming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Farming. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Bees, Bees, and More Bees
A friend of mine, Tara Bambrick, who came down from Canada to help me start both of the cChaos Farmers Markets - the Fire House Certified Farmers Market, and the Chapman Food & Fitness Festival, is setting up a bee buzness up in Canookville. You can watch her develop her site at Bees Alive. I told her I would look up all the movies and books I could find for her to include on her web page.
And here are some links to Bee Books, Movies, Fact, and Fiction
http://daviswiki.org/Backyard_Beekeepin
- 1. Bee Books, Movies, Stories, Fiction & Misc.
- 2: Links to More Articles & Books on Bees
- 3. Bee Documentaries
- 4. Free Bee Videos
- 5. Free Bee Resources
And here are some links to Bee Books, Movies, Fact, and Fiction
http://daviswiki.org/Backyard_Beekeepin
-
Bees Blog 2: Links to More Articles & Books on Bees
- 1. Bee Books, Movies, Stories, Fiction & Misc.
- 2: Links to More Articles & Books on Bees
- 3. Bee Documentaries
- 4. Free Bee Videos
- 5. Free Bee Resources
These are links to Bee books and articles that had no cover pictures. Some are free online articles
Getting Started in Beekeeping by Eric C. Mussen
Hunting Wild Bees
Managing Alternative Pollinators: A Handbook for Beekeepers, Growers, and Conservationists
Native Bees on Wildflowers in Western Australia
COMPETITION FOR NECTAR BETWEEN INTRODUCED HONEY BEES AND NATIVE NORTH AMERICAN BEES AND ANTS
Alternative forage plants for native (wild) bees associated with lowbush blueberry, vaccinium spp., in Maine (Technical bulletin / Maine Agricultural Experiment Station)
Farming For Bees: Guidelines for Providing Native Bee Habitat on Farms
The diversity of native bee (Apoidea) communities in the Adirondack mountains in bogs and in relation to elevation and succession. (Insects and Environmental ... An article from: The Ohio Journal of Science
The Orchard Mason Bee (osmia Lignaria Propinqua Cresson), Life History, Biology, Propagation & Use Of North American Native Bee
Native Bees on Wildflowers in Western Australia
Native Bees on Wildflowers in Western AustraliaNative flowers for bees
The effects of the introduced honeybee (Apis mellifera) on Australian native bees (Occasional paper / National Parks and Wildlife Service)
Bibliography of Tropical Apiculture: Apis Mellifera Native to Africa Pt. 9
Alternative forage plants for native (wild) bees associated with lowbush blueberry, vaccinium spp., in Maine (Technical bulletin / Maine Agricultural Experiment Station)
Farming For Bees: Guidelines for Providing Native Bee Habitat on Farms
The Orchard Mason Bee (osmia Lignaria Propinqua Cresson), Life History, Biology, Propagation & Use Of North American Native Bee
Native Bees on Wildflowers in Western Australia
Native flowers for bees
Bees Blog 3: Full Length Documentaries on Bees
- 1. Bee Books, Movies, Stories, Fiction & Misc.
- 2: Links to More Articles & Books on Bees
- 3. Bee Documentaries
- 4. Free Bee Videos
- 5. Free Bee Resources
Bee Documentaries:
Sister Bee
http://www.sisterbee.com/buy-dvd/
The Vanishing Bees
http://www.vanishingbees.com/B/synopsis.html
Silence of the Bees
Online PBS Documentary available free.
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/silence-of-the-
Bees Blog 4: Youtube Videos
- 1. Bee Books, Movies, Stories, Fiction & Misc.
- 2: Links to More Articles & Books on Bees
- 3. Bee Documentaries
- 4. Free Bee Videos
- 5. Free Bee Resources
Here are several videos on Honey Bees.
Youtube Videos
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Small Farm Accounting and Fairie Tales
When the rFarm CSA was up and running, one of the young daughters of one of my rfarm CSA subscribers dictated a fairie tale to her father to type. When it was finished the whole family came and gave me a copy of it. Because in it, the first place the children go, once the magic begins, is to my farm.
In her story, after riding the animals wild about the place, two of the Children give me a present.
Clare and Alex even gave Richard a strong knife which could cut any strong weed which was on his farm bothering him. The handle was mother-of-pearl and the blade was real gold.
In return I give the children fresh organic food for the rest of their journey "into the hole".
"Fair trade!" I say.
I often pause to think of this gift of imagination, this "gold knife with mother of pearl handle", and the idea that the first place a child naturally goes when begining some great and imaginary journey would be something like a small farm, to stock up on the supplies necessary for the rest of the journey: organic nourishing fresh fruits and vegetables, seeds and nuts.
I have made an effort to make account of that mother of pearl gold knife as true "income" to the farm. So when I get to the discouraging part of farming (my years of it anyway - the book keeping) I take heart!
Go forth with renewed vigor!
Hack away the weeds and briars of discouragement!
Strong, bothersome weeds indeed! I bet no agri-corporate manager, no matter how much they make, has ever received such a precious and unexpected gift. Not by their wildest imaginings - or anyone else's.
(Somestimes one thinks they spend their time scheming how to steal such gifts though.) *
so
Open your golden farm-tool account today!
Let it accrue your interest.
Keep track of it.
Count it as income.
Use it or Lose it!
------------------------------Some people think . . . I've been wrong before . . .
In her story, after riding the animals wild about the place, two of the Children give me a present.
Clare and Alex even gave Richard a strong knife which could cut any strong weed which was on his farm bothering him. The handle was mother-of-pearl and the blade was real gold.
In return I give the children fresh organic food for the rest of their journey "into the hole".
"Fair trade!" I say.
I often pause to think of this gift of imagination, this "gold knife with mother of pearl handle", and the idea that the first place a child naturally goes when begining some great and imaginary journey would be something like a small farm, to stock up on the supplies necessary for the rest of the journey: organic nourishing fresh fruits and vegetables, seeds and nuts.
I have made an effort to make account of that mother of pearl gold knife as true "income" to the farm. So when I get to the discouraging part of farming (my years of it anyway - the book keeping) I take heart!
Go forth with renewed vigor!
Hack away the weeds and briars of discouragement!
Strong, bothersome weeds indeed! I bet no agri-corporate manager, no matter how much they make, has ever received such a precious and unexpected gift. Not by their wildest imaginings - or anyone else's.
(Somestimes one thinks they spend their time scheming how to steal such gifts though.) *
so
Open your golden farm-tool account today!
Let it accrue your interest.
Keep track of it.
Count it as income.
Use it or Lose it!
------------------------------Some people think . . . I've been wrong before . . .
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Carrots, Beans, Manure: A Farm Video Trilogy
When I grew for the farmers market in the Chico, CA area I shot and edited 3 short videos that I have uploaded to youtube. They are meant to be both instructive and fun. If you grow carrots, this shows you how I manually harvest and sell my carrots in the fall.
Sometime in the early 1980's I came across a bean variety called "German Pole". Because I come from German background I ordered a packet and grew them for 3 years. I then decided that I needed to try other varieties to see what bean I liked the best. The "German Pole" beans were the best by far. They produced a longer season, were more abundant, and most importantly were the sweetest most tender green bean I have ever eaten. I eat them by the handful right off the vine, like a sugar pea.
I have not been able to find them anywhere, including in the Seedsavers Exchange, which is one of my most favorite organizations in the world. Kent Whealy is Seedsaver founder and author/compilor of the book: Garden Seed Inventory: Inventory Of Seed Catalogs Listing All Non-Hybrid Vegetable Seeds, Available in the United States and Canada
For several years desperate to make sure that these seeds were not lost I have saved seed and even sold packets of them at the farmers market or given them away as gifts.
In checking online just now I find the name - but not the variety. These beans are dark brown to black seeded when mature and dry. As they over-mature for eating green the pods turn purple. Usually this is an indication that they are too mature to eat raw or steamed. When very large but green they get strings, but it is very easy to string them and eat raw or cooked as long as the beans are still green.
Now that I am no longer growing for market it was wonderful to go to a Seed Swap a few months ago and find some young gardeners had brought in "German Pole" seeds they had gotten from friends. They knew nothing of the back story to the seeds. In this video I am pulling down the vines and hand threshing and cleaning the seeds. These are simply the beans that I missed picking during the harvest season. When I see I have missed a few I just leave them to mature. It doesn't seem to slow down production.
I do notice that here in Chico CA during the hottest part of the Summer the temperatures are too high for the flowers to set fruit. Patience works though. Just keep the vines watered and they begin setting again as the weather cools off in the fall, making them the longest producing beans I have grown.
One friend of mine says the dry German Pole beans are also his favorite dry bean. I haven't tried them dry myself. Maybe this year.
In the middle of winter I spread manure in my orchard. The great clouds of steam rising from the manure heap are just so wonderfully photographic. I had great fun shooting and editing this video. And for some reason I have gotten about twice am many people viewing "Manure" as I do "Carrots" and "Beans".
Note: Applying the hot manure in the winter gives the manure time to decompose and cleans itself of pathogens long before the harvest season. It did make the grass grow though, which maybe wasn't such a great idea.
I gave my old truck away, and I think it still in use somewhere locally.
Oh, and if you have any questions about the very last "opps!" shot - don't worry - (hehe) it was a borrowed camera - from my long time organic farmer, garden class organizer, and long time vegetable growing mentor David Grau of Valley Oak Tool Company. I just cleaned it off and he hasn't said a thing.
t
Not to say: I've been wrong before . . .
I have not been able to find them anywhere, including in the Seedsavers Exchange, which is one of my most favorite organizations in the world. Kent Whealy is Seedsaver founder and author/compilor of the book: Garden Seed Inventory: Inventory Of Seed Catalogs Listing All Non-Hybrid Vegetable Seeds, Available in the United States and Canada
For several years desperate to make sure that these seeds were not lost I have saved seed and even sold packets of them at the farmers market or given them away as gifts.
I sold these bean seeds at the local farmers' markets for several years. People love them. When the greenbeans are in season I sold these for twice the price of anyone elses - and sell out.
Late customers complained they didn't get their's. Sometimes I handed out raw beans as samples, telling people "these are the sweetest - most tender greenbean in the world."
They take the sample bean with a "You're full of beans!" expression and move on as they chomp down.
It took about 2 or 3 steps before they would turn with an amazed expression and exclaim "these really are good!" and come back and buy some to take home. It doesn't always happen, but often enough to be comical.
In checking online just now I find the name - but not the variety. These beans are dark brown to black seeded when mature and dry. As they over-mature for eating green the pods turn purple. Usually this is an indication that they are too mature to eat raw or steamed. When very large but green they get strings, but it is very easy to string them and eat raw or cooked as long as the beans are still green.
Now that I am no longer growing for market it was wonderful to go to a Seed Swap a few months ago and find some young gardeners had brought in "German Pole" seeds they had gotten from friends. They knew nothing of the back story to the seeds. In this video I am pulling down the vines and hand threshing and cleaning the seeds. These are simply the beans that I missed picking during the harvest season. When I see I have missed a few I just leave them to mature. It doesn't seem to slow down production.
I do notice that here in Chico CA during the hottest part of the Summer the temperatures are too high for the flowers to set fruit. Patience works though. Just keep the vines watered and they begin setting again as the weather cools off in the fall, making them the longest producing beans I have grown.
One friend of mine says the dry German Pole beans are also his favorite dry bean. I haven't tried them dry myself. Maybe this year.
In the middle of winter I spread manure in my orchard. The great clouds of steam rising from the manure heap are just so wonderfully photographic. I had great fun shooting and editing this video. And for some reason I have gotten about twice am many people viewing "Manure" as I do "Carrots" and "Beans".
Note: Applying the hot manure in the winter gives the manure time to decompose and cleans itself of pathogens long before the harvest season. It did make the grass grow though, which maybe wasn't such a great idea.
I gave my old truck away, and I think it still in use somewhere locally.
Oh, and if you have any questions about the very last "opps!" shot - don't worry - (hehe) it was a borrowed camera - from my long time organic farmer, garden class organizer, and long time vegetable growing mentor David Grau of Valley Oak Tool Company. I just cleaned it off and he hasn't said a thing.
t
Not to say: I've been wrong before . . .
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