Inner Apocalypt Part I
I just came from a class I’m “consulting�? to-- Phil. 1905: Possibilities of a Sustainable Future. The class was reporting their ideas for designing a sustainable world—sustainable families, recreation, towns, buildings, farms. The rooms was abuzz with great ideas. Many of which I see being tried and practices throughout greater Minnesota.
So, I think I was a bit of a buzzkill-- to use a quip from one of my new friends. No one else brought up cannibalism. No kidding I did. I read The Road by Cormac MacArthy. Not just read it once but I’m on my 3rd reading. It is the prose/poem story of a man and a son walking down a road in post apocalyptic America.
I don’t recommend you read it.
It's one of the most important book I’ve read.
I won’t lie to you. One of the reasons I was so eager to take up farming a gas tank away from St. Paul is because I have an inner apocalypt. Life in St. Paul was wonderfully easy, fun, pleasurable. But I had an escape plan to leave the City— travel to a farm where we could survive whatever crisis was upon us. I executed the escape plan early. Not for the wrong reasons—we’re not holed up survivalists. I am there for the right reasons—the Possibilities of a Sustainable Future.
Learning to live in community with people and nature and history of this place. What does it mean to be present on this landscape and with the people who walk and have walked this land?
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
No turning back...
Our beautiful home in St. Paul sold yesterday. Mike is just giddy with joy- a huge weight off his shoulders. I'm stunned and scared. Truth be told-- I have my feet in both lives. Yeh, I talk big about my life on the prairie. But I've been in St. Paul every week for work. Coming back to this sunny, lovely home of my own. With an espresso maker and premium ice cream in the freezer.
So now my bluff is called. The house is gone. There's no going back to this comfortable, easy street in Highland Park. Mike's committed. I have to ratchet up my commitment to a new level. Frankly I'm scared. Who will I be outside of the Cities?
Yesterday I took Alma and Jens for a bike ride -- Jens in the pull behind. There were hunters out so we all wore blaze orange. We rode "next door" to the US Fish and Wildlife land. We hiked into the marshy wetlands surrounding the pothole pond/lake. My kids were intrepid. They found a water trail leading through the reeds to the pond. They were so much more eager to explore it than I was. Walking through the prairie grass whenever Jens saw a huge ant (or other critter) mound he would climb on top and yell "Beware the wolf-- hoowowoowooowooo." He's 3 years old. I actually thought "well-- at least these kids won't suffer from Nature Deficit Disorder."
So... until one is committed
So now my bluff is called. The house is gone. There's no going back to this comfortable, easy street in Highland Park. Mike's committed. I have to ratchet up my commitment to a new level. Frankly I'm scared. Who will I be outside of the Cities?
Yesterday I took Alma and Jens for a bike ride -- Jens in the pull behind. There were hunters out so we all wore blaze orange. We rode "next door" to the US Fish and Wildlife land. We hiked into the marshy wetlands surrounding the pothole pond/lake. My kids were intrepid. They found a water trail leading through the reeds to the pond. They were so much more eager to explore it than I was. Walking through the prairie grass whenever Jens saw a huge ant (or other critter) mound he would climb on top and yell "Beware the wolf-- hoowowoowooowooo." He's 3 years old. I actually thought "well-- at least these kids won't suffer from Nature Deficit Disorder."
So... until one is committed
Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans.
The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now. -
The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now. -
Friday, November 9, 2007
Let there be LIGHT
Fiber optic light that is!
This is Jason. We would not be able to live here if it were not for Federated Communications out of Chokio Minnesota. They put down 2 miles of fiber optic cable to our farm. We are not in their service area-- just on the edge. It cost them over $11,000 for which we signed a two year contract for phone and high speed internet. A deal.
Thank you Jason! Thank you Tom Lorenz! Thank you Federated.
I am sitting here in my 1912 farm house looking our over plowed corn, silos, prairie, and wetlands. The geese are flying through in the thousands. Unlike anything I've ever seen. All the while listening to Fine Tuning on XM satellite radio via my wireless internet, compliments of Federated. Hip Hip Hurrah!
This is Jason. We would not be able to live here if it were not for Federated Communications out of Chokio Minnesota. They put down 2 miles of fiber optic cable to our farm. We are not in their service area-- just on the edge. It cost them over $11,000 for which we signed a two year contract for phone and high speed internet. A deal.
Thank you Jason! Thank you Tom Lorenz! Thank you Federated.
I am sitting here in my 1912 farm house looking our over plowed corn, silos, prairie, and wetlands. The geese are flying through in the thousands. Unlike anything I've ever seen. All the while listening to Fine Tuning on XM satellite radio via my wireless internet, compliments of Federated. Hip Hip Hurrah!
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Prairie fire
Last Friday I joined Alma in school for her nursery rhyme recital. Honestly the highlight for me was to play chicken and fox in the gym. Have I mentioned that she has gym and music class everyday in Clinton Elementary. She did not have that in St. Paul (but hey! don't tell anyone because they might take it away-- are kids suppose to have gym and music anymore??). Back to chicken and fox-- teams of 2, me and Alma, hoola hoops with wiffle balls to guard (the chicken) while the other person runs around trying to steal other people's "eggs." Oooooo what fun. I asked if we could play dodge ball and was informed by the teacher that wasn't allowed (do the Chicken Little dodge ball dance here).
As we turned to drive east out of townafter school I could see a big smoke rising up into the air. It was to the east and slightly south. Exactly the direction of our farm. But our farm is about 11 miles away-- could that be from our farm? You see we had a little fire here a few days before what with cutting up metal in the dry grass. Luckily someone was farming near by and plowed a patch that stopped the fire.
Sure enough I'm driving closer and closer and the billowing smoke is aligning with the coordinates of our farm. I turn down our road and all I see is a pink wall of smoke. The fire is on the west of our gravel road and strips have been plowed on the western edge of our fields that would keep it from jumping over the gravel. I'm not sure if I should drive into the wall of smoke. So I stopped to take pictures. The fires didn't cross into our section and the crops were harvested across the road so that the crops weren't lost and didn't fuel an inferno.
There have been a few dramatic fires around here lately. I'm not sure if they are planned or accidents-- like ours was.
As we turned to drive east out of townafter school I could see a big smoke rising up into the air. It was to the east and slightly south. Exactly the direction of our farm. But our farm is about 11 miles away-- could that be from our farm? You see we had a little fire here a few days before what with cutting up metal in the dry grass. Luckily someone was farming near by and plowed a patch that stopped the fire.
Sure enough I'm driving closer and closer and the billowing smoke is aligning with the coordinates of our farm. I turn down our road and all I see is a pink wall of smoke. The fire is on the west of our gravel road and strips have been plowed on the western edge of our fields that would keep it from jumping over the gravel. I'm not sure if I should drive into the wall of smoke. So I stopped to take pictures. The fires didn't cross into our section and the crops were harvested across the road so that the crops weren't lost and didn't fuel an inferno.
There have been a few dramatic fires around here lately. I'm not sure if they are planned or accidents-- like ours was.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Farmers, therefore, are the founders of civilization
Alma and I took a trip to Washington DC last month-- thanks to my birth Mom Leona. It was wonderful, relaxing, and inspiring. I find the quote above from the US House of Representative inspiring-- exactly why I want my kids to farm. Exactly what I want my husband to be doing while I'm writing the great American Agro-Eco Thriller in my 3rd story office overlooking the prairie. Teehee hee.
The picture below is my favorite sculpture in all of WDC-- it sits in front of the Supreme Court. I've kept a framed photo I took of this sculpture close by me for the past 10 year. A confident woman riding a seething horse/serpent while brushing back her hair. In this picture I can see the relaxation in my face-- it was so wonderful to be completely there.
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