Best Summer Ever

His popularity had sky-rocketed over the last school year. His social calendar was overflowing. 

Movies

bonfires on the beach

camp outs

a trip to 6 Flags

sleep-overs

a driver's license....


Yep, Avery was having his "best summer ever".  

It hasn't always been that way. 

.

Besides being geographically isolated, it took him awhile to shed the "goat boy" image

It has plagued him since the switch from a Waldorf home school group to 

the Frankfort Public School system. 

A set of oddball parents didn't help any. 

But a great sense of humor triumphs 

over geography

goats 

and genes. 


Avery discovered this truth at my expense, 

keeping a straight face while scolding him

is nearly impossible. 

It is so wrong

that being manipulated by rib-tickling 

is such a tolerable offense. 




There were too many unanswered questions 

about the type, stage, prognosis and plan

to spoil Avery's  Best Summer Ever. 

So we preserved that and "normal" for as long as possible 

by not telling anyone. 

Could I really make it through a two hour appointment

with one of my dearest clients without spilling the beans? 

I discovered that I could. 

And that the rhythm and creative outlet 

provided by my work in the salon 

and by the farm 

was comforting ground to stand on.  

And I discovered something else. 

That I / we 

did not have to be defined by this. 

Insurmountable Opportunity

I just noticed something. 

The best chair for drinking morning coffee is in the wrong spot. 

This statement comes with almost as much impact as the diagnosis. 

Last month the Urologist looked my husband straight in the eye

coolly pulled back the lever 

and released three successive pin balls: You. Have. Cancer.

Tilt. 

It happened in slow-mo 

without bells, flashing lights or sounds. 

Just a matter-of-fact observation 

that rose as plainly as the one in front of me, 

that the best chair for drinking morning coffee is in the wrong spot.

Certainly this obstacle is bigger than the usual one. 

Good thing, removing them, 

overcoming them, 

transcending them 

is my forte. 

I've become so accustomed to obstacles that the Spin Doctor I am

 coined a new term for them

a new context: Insurmountable Opportunities. 

And the Universe responded. "Oh yeah?"

"Spin this."

So, Universe, here's my first shot. 

The May Farm already had a story,

 it just wasn't the whole story. 

The whole story is spinning itself.

And then all of a sudden the best chair for drinking morning coffee was miraculously

 in the right place

in the path of a sunbeam. 

I may not know what the ending will be

but I can tell you this much. 

This story is about community. 

Beyond The Shadow of a Drought

The widespread drought conditions of 2012 adversely affected yields and revealed a deeper message: a people who can no longer feed themselves lose the capacity to choose their destiny. This was the sentiment held by Mark Keating, an organic farming advocate and consultant after inspecting 39 organic farms across the Great Plains, Midwest and South. 

Along the way he noted the decline of once beautiful downtowns and landscapes as family farms were abandoned for industrialized agriculture, commercial sprawl, chains and fast food joints. Has the reported 50% increase in exports over the last 4 years come at the expense of the American heartland and its people? Yet Keating was bolstered by the promise of redemption these organic practitioners might bring. He was impressed by their character, intellect, ingenuity and perseverance and humbled by the depth and breadth of their knowledge and skills.

Keating compared the organic local food movement to the Occupy movement with organic farmers representing the 1%. Those committed to organic, local food systems are those who recognize that where and how our food is produced will be the defining issue of the 21st century. These irreplaceable stewards of human, social and ecological capital are small in number but bound to grow as more (re)awaken to the sacred relationship with the origin and integrity of their food. 

USDA Organic Production Survey Tells the Story

The USDA recently published a 160-page report on the results of their Certified Organic Production Survey (COPS).  Questionnaires were sent to 9140 certified farms with an impressive 76% response rate. The bottom line? The biggest certified farms are getting bigger.

The report placed the value of organic products at $3.53 billion with 10% of farms generating 70% of sales. A total of 8 mega-dairies in Texas produce 15% of the nation's milk supply - more than the 465 dairies in New York, Vermont and Maine combined and 50% more than the 397 dairies in Wisconsin.

143 certified organic farms produced nearly 20 million broilers in 2011. 60% of those sales come from only 9 farms in California.

In egg production, 375 certified organic layer farms had sales exceeding $275, 000,000. Missouri ranked second with only 7 layer operations while Indiana ranked fifth with only four.  [Blank spots in the numbers obscure the examples of extreme concentration in the state of Michigan].

It only takes a trip to the grocery store to see California's 60% domination of the organic vegetable and fruit market. If you add Arizona, Oregon and Washington it represents 4/5 of all the organic vegetables grown in the United States. The only state east of the Mississippi that comes close to approaching the production of these western states is Florida, with New York a distant second.  California and Washington state combined produce 90% of the national organic fruit market.

So what does this story tell? To me, it says that there is a lot of monoculture going on.  Organic "inputs" are being substituted but we're still contributing to loss of soil, water and diversity - in other words,  the natural resource base on which life on earth depends.

What's the moral of this story?  Get busy producing, preserving and purchasing local food from small, diversified farms with closed loop systems.  "Industrial organic" is there to serve in the interim and as an entry point for newbies. But it is part of the journey, not the destination. It can never measure up to the quality, flavor and connection ensouled in consciously-raised local food. I purposely avoided the o-word (organic) here because I believe that inputs purchased from conscious local vendors are preferable to outsourced organic inputs.  It's the "slow food" way of growing the infrastructure necessary for a sustainable, local food economy and an incremental move in the right direction that keeps pace with consumer education, rising fuel costs and demand.

Organic certification and outsourced food will never out-perform local food's biggest output: connection. This is where the power to restore land, health and community lives.

Acres USA & a Cup of Coffee

Acres USA and a cup of coffee always get me going. In the November 2012 issue I read that according to the 2007 census, (the 2012 census won't be out until 2014) the number of farms in the U.S. in the 1-9 acre and 1-49 acre categories grew by 53,000 and 56,000 respectively since 2002. In spite of the slow economy, America’s Farmers Markets have been growing by nearly 10% in the past year alone. With access to these markets, small farmers are opting out of relying on unpredictable commodity prices that may not offset expenses. If we’ve learned anything, it’s that sustainable and transparent pricing and practices go hand in hand.

The USDA defines a small farm as one grossing under $250,000 per year. Because farms are defined in terms of income, growing one’s own food isn’t included in these statistics. Yet increasing numbers of people are trading in the treadmill for a rural lifestyle and a chance at self-sufficiency. 

The Smart Growth movement has much to say about what urban areas will look like but is rather silent about those places in between. In Whatcom County, Washington,  the very same folks who support CSA’s are imposing assaults and limitations on rural areas. In urban-centric circles, rural life is just another word for sprawl. And large-scale farming is preferable because it doesn’t intrude on the view shed. Yet large scale farming of monoculture crops are detrimental to healthy soil life and the watershed.  

It seems as if the back-to-the-land and Smart Growth movements are in conflict with each other. One group strives for land-based economics while the other seeks to preserve ‘open space’ that can be observed and admired from afar.  This is preservation of views, not farmland. 

39% of the nation’s small farms are smaller than 49 acres. An unknown percentage of families supplement their incomes by producing and consuming several thousands of dollars worth of farm products each year. Small scale farming within a few miles of a city can perform an important task in the overall preservation of agriculture by providing a buffer between city residents and the nuisances of larger-scale farms and by providing a wide variety of specialty foods to those residents.

In Whatcom County and others like it, high land prices for smaller parcels, a stagnant economy, and lending restrictions are taking their toll. The idea that large farms have always dominated the country is a modern artifice. And if urban areas get too populated, residents will look to areas outside the city to call home. 

What might Rural Smart Growth look like? Simon Fairlie, an author and farmer paints a picture in his essay; “Can Britain feed itself?” Fairlie proposes that re-ruralization would free up space for market gardens inside or on the periphery of cities and reconnect city dwellers with their food. It would break up large mechanized farms into small farms and hamlets and result in more people working from home. Polycultural income streams from land-based enterprises would link local needs with local resources.  Landscapes would look like mosaics and provide employment.

Using a basic diet, Fairlie compared Chemical Ag with and without livestock with Organic Ag with and without livestock and Permaculture with and without livestock on 100 acres.  Chemical Ag without livestock fed the most people - 20 -  but at what cost to the environment and health? Organic Ag and Permaculture were about equal with feeding 8 because of the need for cover crops, fallow fields, fodder and pastures.  However 100 acres of Permaculture-based Ag provided food, textiles for clothing, animal feed, fuel for tractors, heating fuel and timber for the home. With all of these land-based enterprises providing for all these needs, the countryside would become more, not less populated and provide employment. This is Rural Smart Growth.

But will people even want this type of employment? There seems to be a disdain for farmers and employment that requires physical labor. This is rather odd when you consider how much money and time is spent at gyms. Think of all those calories being burned without accomplishing anything productive whatsoever! Personally, I think there are worse occupations one could choose than a land-based enterprise that works in cooperation with nature and contributes to community resilience. 

The Pig Whisperer

It’s the Friday before New Year’s Eve.  It was just another day at the salon - unless your salon happens to be part of a compound that includes your home and one other unlikely partner: a farm. I’ve  had a good day in the salon. 

I was precisely placing caramel highlights to offset the graceful graying of the corkscrewed curly-Q’s streaming down my client's back. My son was on winter break, quietly noodling on the IPhone he inherited from the fortuitous timing of Christmas and an upgrade. I’m grateful to Santa for earphones and the bi-fold doors that separate our worlds. Avery was raised on the other side of the Great Divide between my work and a home that gracious folks would call ‘lived in’.  At 14 he hasn’t outgrown interupting me for lame reasons, typically met with “The Look”. I was almost done for the day when the bi-fold doors creaked opened. As I prepared to muster said ‘look’ I was met with another that said ‘something’s wrong’. Pointing towards something just outside the picture window, I saw three not-so-little pigs. I huffed and puffed and issued stealth orders to call his Dad and track their whereabouts until I was done. 

Collecting myself, I went back to corkscrewed curly-Q’s I could deal with. My client chuckled at yet another indication that this was not your typical salon. Shortly thereafter I was back in ‘the zone’ – that happy place uninhabited by pigs, teenagers or anything else in the world but me and my creativity.  Once the caramel highlights had receded down the driveway, I scurried off to find my son, grabbing a bag of small red potatoes. I found Avery and the 3 escapees at the top of the hill on a treeless plateau formerly used for a large garden.

Surprisingly, the pigs weren’t interested in food, perfectly happy to nose-plow virgin territory. We tried to curtail their wandering into the thick surrounding woods by using long dead tree branches,  a bad imitation of what we’d seen 4H kids do.  My great idea?  To rope them. This was squelched by Avery’s lampooning of me being garden-plowed behind a 400 lb. runaway pig. 

Finally we coaxed them onto a two-track encircling the garden that led downhill towards the barn. As I got ahead of them an inspiration came. Picture the scene in “Funny Girl” where Fanny Brice lets it rip at the helm of a New York harbor ferry,  only nix Babs and insert me belting “SOOEEEYY!" at the helm of a muddy two-track. 

Miraculously, the pigs started following me. I pied-pipered them all the way down the hill, through the narrow doorway of the lower barn and into a stall, Avery bringing up the rear. Was it luck, will power or my inner Streisand? Or was it the curious fashion-pairing of muddy Sorrells and a magenta cashmere skirt?  All I know is that by the end of it, aggravation subsided into the satisfaction of manipulating three more wayward corkscrewed curly-ques back into place.

Christmas Eve Wishes

I am dog sitting for the O'Neals, loyal May Farm customers. They have a cute little dog named Murphy. I get to stay in their cozy cottage just a dog-walk away from Crystal Lake and Lake Michigan a few times during the off-season when they travel. It's like a mini-vacation. And if I'm not wrong, I probably blogged the last time I was here because I usually try to get caught up on things like that. Note: I went on an internet connection diet over the last year when my air card broke and AT&T wanted $250 to replace it. I decided to discontinue my service and spend that monthly fee on lattes at the Bayview Grille, a wireless hot spot. I like that it limited the amount of time I spent in cyberspace. But that will change in the New Year. I will have to acquire self-discipline.

I just spent the morning making swedish meatballs and artichoke dip for a Xmas Eve party tonight. I used used May Farm pastured beef and pork. I don't really measure, but here's the recipe.

Mush together 1 lb. each of May Farm ground beef and pork, bread crumbs, milk, eggs, nutmeg, allspice, cardamon, salt, pepper and onion. Bake on a broiler pan for about 10 minutes in a 350 oven. Make a simple bechamel sauce and pour over the meatballs. Voila! Serve as an appetizer or over noodles. Triple or quadruple the recipe and have a meatball-making party with a friend or two and freeze the little buggers in some ziplocks for a quick dinner.

Okay, but that's not why I was inspired to write today. I've been reading Woody Tasch's book "Slow Money" and it has me squirming with thoughts begging for somewhere to land. I think I'll start a new blog post. See ya in the next one.