I call it Wonderful but anyone know what this is really called? I want another one.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Wonderful (what is it?)
I call it Wonderful but anyone know what this is really called? I want another one.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Garden update
Sunday the Percherons came back to disc and level the field. I had never thought getting virgin dirt ready for seeds would be quite so much work. The Bahia grass was like an impenetrable force field weaving ridiculously spindly vines that acted like they were made of steel. Six weeks from the first discing, three trips from draft horses, talk of a burn, and finally the finishing touches with a tractor and we have a garden field.
It's still not perfect. I still have to go through every row with a hand cultivator/mini-hoe thing and manually chop out the thick winding roots that run deep and muck up my garden beds. I can't even explain this tool but it is now on my list of Things-I-Can-Never-Live-Without. I'll have to take a photo, maybe someone can give it a name other than "Wonderful".
Then we started dropping posts to run fence along the perimeter. The old school Percheron owning farmer tilted the corners of his moustached mouth ever so slightly when I professed the desire to contain my plants. His seventy-seven years of gardens needed no barriers. I'm the new kid on the block. Sometimes I wonder if I glow green in the presence of these Farming Gods.
I have no shame siphoning information off anyone that cares to respond to what I'm sure are assinine questions. The quietness I usually encounter after my mouth closes I'm not all together certain isn't their self control reining in a laugh or serious contemplation. Perhaps they're wondering when I'll leave, taking a mental bet on the month farming will break me. I'll bet they think "August.". Heaven and Hell both know I'm not looking forward to that month.
But I'm not leaving. I can laugh at myself and my questions. And I'll ask them anyway.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Deconstructing and rebuilding a life
The farther and farther I dive into an agrarian life, the more things appear in simple, majestic form. I marvel over new ways to do things I've never imagined possible. Even if those new things are actually really old.
I feel like a child more times than not. Impressed with discovery and hungry for learning. Sometimes embarassed with my ignorance but not prideful enough to discredit another train of thought. The curious in me needs to debunk what the world has served to me in truths, spoon fed me at times, and batter it all with the seasoning of "why?"s.
The need for power in its many forms has hindered my ability to believe in my own capacity. I cannot because someone smarter, richer, cleverer than I am has told me this is true. You cannot live without electricity. You cannot live without a 9-5. You can't be smart unless you go to school. And so many other things have been told to me without being said out right. But I have seen people do this and more. So much more.
Even things as mundane as toothpaste I look at through a new spectrum of light. I've learned what is in commercial toothpastes. I have learned to make my own. Something that had once only been accepted in my life with a name brand and a fancy box, I am now astounded by with the ease of relying on myself to create. And it doesn't stop there.
The more I learn the more I want to learn. The more societal and material things I want to deconstruct. Break down into everyday parts I can reassemble for my needs. The more things I can learn to live without.
One thing I have realized is that once you learn something it can never be unlearned. It can be ignored, true, but I think the knowledge still looms in the background. A haunting mass of shadows. You can only fool yourself so long and so much. Sometimes I learn something and change only to learn even more and have to change that same thing once again. I feel like even when I get to the grass roots of the issue, I then learn there are problems with the dirt underneath until everything needs to get uprooted and we start again brand new.
Its not an easy way to live; completely out of sorts with an honest reality. Finding a footing only to be off-balanced yet again. But it is what I choose -living in knowledge and truth and the constant persuit of both- and I need to remind myself of that everyday.
I feel like a child more times than not. Impressed with discovery and hungry for learning. Sometimes embarassed with my ignorance but not prideful enough to discredit another train of thought. The curious in me needs to debunk what the world has served to me in truths, spoon fed me at times, and batter it all with the seasoning of "why?"s.
The need for power in its many forms has hindered my ability to believe in my own capacity. I cannot because someone smarter, richer, cleverer than I am has told me this is true. You cannot live without electricity. You cannot live without a 9-5. You can't be smart unless you go to school. And so many other things have been told to me without being said out right. But I have seen people do this and more. So much more.
Even things as mundane as toothpaste I look at through a new spectrum of light. I've learned what is in commercial toothpastes. I have learned to make my own. Something that had once only been accepted in my life with a name brand and a fancy box, I am now astounded by with the ease of relying on myself to create. And it doesn't stop there.
The more I learn the more I want to learn. The more societal and material things I want to deconstruct. Break down into everyday parts I can reassemble for my needs. The more things I can learn to live without.
One thing I have realized is that once you learn something it can never be unlearned. It can be ignored, true, but I think the knowledge still looms in the background. A haunting mass of shadows. You can only fool yourself so long and so much. Sometimes I learn something and change only to learn even more and have to change that same thing once again. I feel like even when I get to the grass roots of the issue, I then learn there are problems with the dirt underneath until everything needs to get uprooted and we start again brand new.
Its not an easy way to live; completely out of sorts with an honest reality. Finding a footing only to be off-balanced yet again. But it is what I choose -living in knowledge and truth and the constant persuit of both- and I need to remind myself of that everyday.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
A Farm Girl's Best Accessory
If Cordi and Emmy are outside they will have chickens in their arms.
At first I objected to their constant handling of the chickens.
But they are careful and gentle and listen for the chickens when they cluck to get down.
It has definately helped make the chickens calmer and friendlier.
And they don't exclude the two month old chickens either. Which is wonderful, perhaps they can tame one of the boys we have applying for the Rooster position.
Well, one can hope. Either way, the chickens are getting luved up. Which, I think, makes the eggs just a bit tastier.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
My new obsession
I'm trying hard not to let the news of no sheep or goats pull me down too far. There are still a lot of things we can do and we need to focus and concentrate on the positives. One thing we definately, positively, 100% can have is chickens.
Right now, the small A-frame coop houses the three oldest birds. I built that awesome new coop and they hate it. They're like the cool girls in school that hang out by themselves and whisper about you when they know you're looking. They look down on it like it's the chess club and they're the top of the pyramid at football games. They don't like being in there with the little chickens. They steal the little ones food and scare them off from the scraps because cool girls don't eat with loosers. They make eggs, gawddamn it. They're the Phi Beta's of my barnyard and everyone else is in on scholarship.
I like totally love them.
I haven't grow attached to the new bunch of chickens from Christmas mainly because I'm still heart scarred from butchering Coco and the majority of that batch are going to the pot. Soon. I was adamant the kids didn't name any of them. After the one that got murdered by that mangy neighbor dog, we're down to 8 out of 13 that are definately roasting material. The remaining 5 are so alike that I've started referring to them as 1 of 5, 2 of 5 and so on. They're nearly identical and the Borg identifiers aren't even bird specific, I just make sure there is a total of 5 of 5 at lights out.
Since I have so so many Americaunas (the three big girls plus the five little Borgs) I am desperate to mix it up. The hatchery websites charge just about what I'd buy in birds for shipping making a $35 order nearer to $75. That's a little rich for my blood. Searching CraigsList I found some of the more interesting breeds available from a feed store. I packed up the kids this morning and we headed out to buy some birds.
I went a little overboard. I have twelve new babies brooding in the barn bringing our current total of birds up to 28.
Right now, the small A-frame coop houses the three oldest birds. I built that awesome new coop and they hate it. They're like the cool girls in school that hang out by themselves and whisper about you when they know you're looking. They look down on it like it's the chess club and they're the top of the pyramid at football games. They don't like being in there with the little chickens. They steal the little ones food and scare them off from the scraps because cool girls don't eat with loosers. They make eggs, gawddamn it. They're the Phi Beta's of my barnyard and everyone else is in on scholarship.
I like totally love them.
I haven't grow attached to the new bunch of chickens from Christmas mainly because I'm still heart scarred from butchering Coco and the majority of that batch are going to the pot. Soon. I was adamant the kids didn't name any of them. After the one that got murdered by that mangy neighbor dog, we're down to 8 out of 13 that are definately roasting material. The remaining 5 are so alike that I've started referring to them as 1 of 5, 2 of 5 and so on. They're nearly identical and the Borg identifiers aren't even bird specific, I just make sure there is a total of 5 of 5 at lights out.
Since I have so so many Americaunas (the three big girls plus the five little Borgs) I am desperate to mix it up. The hatchery websites charge just about what I'd buy in birds for shipping making a $35 order nearer to $75. That's a little rich for my blood. Searching CraigsList I found some of the more interesting breeds available from a feed store. I packed up the kids this morning and we headed out to buy some birds.
I went a little overboard. I have twelve new babies brooding in the barn bringing our current total of birds up to 28.
Silver Laced Wyandotte (this is my favorite, so far.)
Black Australorp (Can I have 2 favorites?)
Buff Orpington (ok so, three?)
Rhode Island Red (Classic. But not my favorite)
I also grabbed (cause, why the heck not?) two Black Sex Links or Rock Reds since those are a hybrid and are sexed by their color. Which is slightly creepy but they're definately pullets and we don't need more she's-a-he surprises. Now the naming begins! Should we go with theme names or just let the kids pick silly ones like the peeping chick they want to name "Noisy"?*
*the kids get to name everything so don't feel too badly for them.
Fighting amongst ourselves
The word on the computerized street is that a fairly well known group of individuals out of California has decided that they own the terms "Urban Homestead" and "Urban Homesteading". This would be the Dervaes family that own and operate Path to Freedom Urban Homestead. I won't link them here, I don't want to help line their coffiers. In the course of their ten plus years of homesteading in the city they have had a good bit of success with an online store, local sales, and a movie.
They helped take what some of us city dwellers longed for and made it successful and recognized.
But they didn't create it out of thin air.
Urban homesteading is something that has been around a long time (remember Victory Gardens?). It is a movement, a state of mind, an action, intellectual property if you will. Yet, somehow the Dervaes trademarked the terms last October. The reason for all the current fuss is that they are now implementing their dominion on what so many of us use in everyday talk. They reason that they did this is because they have seen the terms slug fast and loose from the hips of Big Business, taking the virginity of them and defiling it so that the words loose their meaning. They become green washed, useless. Much like the terms "organic" and "natural".
I don't question that. I think that is a fine motive. But when actions become inconsistent with motive I start getting a queasy feeling in my stomach. My bullshit meter goes off and I have to step back and analyze that which I had once believed in. The first tingle something was amiss for me was when they wrote a blog post about agreeing to host a reality TV show and -while I appreciate the honesty- said it was only for the money. Their current trademarking actions of having Facebook shut down pages that use the terms is ridiculous. Their letters to non-profits telling them they have to cite the Dervaes whenever they use the terms is appaling. They use the excuse that when the world thinks "Urban Homestead" they immediately think "Dervaes" is egotistical and their drive to make the world cite or link to them when using terms that have been around for generations is nothing short of money-grubbing.
It's not so much owning them, it's what they're doing with it that is the issue.
According to them, every time I write URBAN HOMESTEAD® (it has to be written just like that) here on this very little known blog, I have to also say something somewhere near these words that this belongs to the Dervaes. So, if I wanted to write about my friend's URBAN HOMESTEAD® I'd also have to tell you somewhere near the text that the Dervaes own those words. If I wanted to talk about my grandma who had a URBAN HOMESTEAD® back in the 1930's to help alliviate the food consuption of her children and her kids worked in her URBAN HOMESTEAD® over the summer and her URBAN HOMESTEADING® inspired her neighbor to start her own URBAN HOMESTEAD® as well as her daughter having a successful farmer's market stand because of her own URBAN HOMESTEAD® I would have to tell you that the Dervaes own those words even though my grandma did this all before they were born. *this is a fictitious story about my grandma to prove a point, she had a rural homestead.
Their website states this "In addition, more and more people began to use the term for profit..." but isn't that what they're doing? (besides mucking up my blog with all caps)
Currently, they have removed their own Facebook pages after being inundated with (mostly) politely asked questions about their motives. Their blog posts and twitter feed are defensive. They have issued a sort-of response on their website which basically just gives a copy of the letter they sent out but they have blocked any comments. There is now a Facebook group to take the terms back, bloggers -like me- are responding with their own feelings, and online editorials are being written. Before their personal and business pages were pulled people en masse were writing their objections, vowing to end support of the homesteaders both financially and socially. Their "like" numbers were dropping by the hundreds. All while, the Dervaes are pulling out of the spotlight, hopefully to regroup and apologize.
It's bad enough that we have to fight the government and big businesses to live simpler lives, have food that is healthy, and fulfill the dreams and desires we're being called upon to live out, but do we really need to fight amongst ourselves?
They helped take what some of us city dwellers longed for and made it successful and recognized.
But they didn't create it out of thin air.
Urban homesteading is something that has been around a long time (remember Victory Gardens?). It is a movement, a state of mind, an action, intellectual property if you will. Yet, somehow the Dervaes trademarked the terms last October. The reason for all the current fuss is that they are now implementing their dominion on what so many of us use in everyday talk. They reason that they did this is because they have seen the terms slug fast and loose from the hips of Big Business, taking the virginity of them and defiling it so that the words loose their meaning. They become green washed, useless. Much like the terms "organic" and "natural".
I don't question that. I think that is a fine motive. But when actions become inconsistent with motive I start getting a queasy feeling in my stomach. My bullshit meter goes off and I have to step back and analyze that which I had once believed in. The first tingle something was amiss for me was when they wrote a blog post about agreeing to host a reality TV show and -while I appreciate the honesty- said it was only for the money. Their current trademarking actions of having Facebook shut down pages that use the terms is ridiculous. Their letters to non-profits telling them they have to cite the Dervaes whenever they use the terms is appaling. They use the excuse that when the world thinks "Urban Homestead" they immediately think "Dervaes" is egotistical and their drive to make the world cite or link to them when using terms that have been around for generations is nothing short of money-grubbing.
It's not so much owning them, it's what they're doing with it that is the issue.
According to them, every time I write URBAN HOMESTEAD® (it has to be written just like that) here on this very little known blog, I have to also say something somewhere near these words that this belongs to the Dervaes. So, if I wanted to write about my friend's URBAN HOMESTEAD® I'd also have to tell you somewhere near the text that the Dervaes own those words. If I wanted to talk about my grandma who had a URBAN HOMESTEAD® back in the 1930's to help alliviate the food consuption of her children and her kids worked in her URBAN HOMESTEAD® over the summer and her URBAN HOMESTEADING® inspired her neighbor to start her own URBAN HOMESTEAD® as well as her daughter having a successful farmer's market stand because of her own URBAN HOMESTEAD® I would have to tell you that the Dervaes own those words even though my grandma did this all before they were born. *this is a fictitious story about my grandma to prove a point, she had a rural homestead.
Their website states this "In addition, more and more people began to use the term for profit..." but isn't that what they're doing? (besides mucking up my blog with all caps)
Currently, they have removed their own Facebook pages after being inundated with (mostly) politely asked questions about their motives. Their blog posts and twitter feed are defensive. They have issued a sort-of response on their website which basically just gives a copy of the letter they sent out but they have blocked any comments. There is now a Facebook group to take the terms back, bloggers -like me- are responding with their own feelings, and online editorials are being written. Before their personal and business pages were pulled people en masse were writing their objections, vowing to end support of the homesteaders both financially and socially. Their "like" numbers were dropping by the hundreds. All while, the Dervaes are pulling out of the spotlight, hopefully to regroup and apologize.
It's bad enough that we have to fight the government and big businesses to live simpler lives, have food that is healthy, and fulfill the dreams and desires we're being called upon to live out, but do we really need to fight amongst ourselves?
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