from, towards and to

I plant the seed,
You make it grow.
You send the rain,
I work the hoe.
(Author unknown)


Seems about time, me being a farmer and all...that I write about my practices. Sustainable agriculture, (or as I like to point out)- is basically farming like our great grandparents did- within the healthy boundaries of budget,environment,productivity, common good and common sense. Rarely did my own kin use anything other than manure to fertilize, rain to moisturize, hand labor, and pretty much just down to earth (for the earth) common sense. They realized, I do believe- that their efforts conveyed a simple acceptance of life and the job at hand. The food they raised upon the earth they so dearly loved was healthy and always a blessing. They took nothing for granted. They worked hard. They rarely complained. They prayed...alot! They shared the fruits of their labor with family, neighbors- pretty much anyone who asked for a sharing of a meal, the breaking of the bread...I remember I remember with great joy- butchering days-hogs and hens and many a rooster, these tasks were done with a spirit of gratitude. Always we helped when Dad would get us there, even though we were kids, my brothers and I-we had a job to do. And after the great and wonderful chores were done, we would always go home with fresh pork, bacon, sausage-the best your tummy could count on. I remember Uncle Hank handing over the craw of the chicken, it would be filled with grain and pebbles-nothing was ever wasted on the farm, we'd gleefully toss it over the fence to the other chickens. Life goes on and on and on...this may seem crude, gross by today's standards-but folks, honestly that food you're eating was once a living member of this society, and someone or some thing way down the line from your own local/corporate grocery line-produced it. These days- so many products on your grocer's shelf have seldom been touched by human hands.Call me a hayseed, but where is the connection there, the one we all flow from, towards and to? In my thinking...( maybe-that's why blogging was created, so we inadvertent writers aren't alcoholics or worse...and we get to say what we think, what we feel, how we process...great gig!)I miss the connection, I do not feel anything for a machine, I cannot.(Except for a certain old gangegreen Ford pickup...& computers- connective devices...)
Is this where we've all lost touch with one another? Could this be the industrial strength bond that has broken our society? Do we not need to feel anymore-the connections? Wake up and smell the horse shit-the roses, the herbs, the freshness, renewable ever resourcing connections-man oh man, it could be this simple...it is this simple for this simple mind. Who grew it? I am grateful for your labor of love. Who built it? Again, much thanks. Almost everything I buy is connected through a relationship with the one or those who produced it. (And not because I think I have all the answers...hell, I don't even understand the questions much of the time- but for some reason beyond me, I have been "touched" with an elevated purpose for common good.)Machines, corporations do not appreciate this gratitude, they do not care for connections. Oh, they advertise sure and lead us to believe that our best interests are at their hearts, but truly I wonder- if our best interests were indeed the common goal-wouldn't they just come out and state this is how this was made, this is where this came from, this may or may not be healthy for the environment, for you, for your family...would they not at the very least supply a label of origin? Or back up what they stand for by standing up for us, their customer? And while I'm at it...who the hell will take my phone call, listen to my concerns? (Don't have to tell you that, now do I.) If, again-there's was an interest of common good. Nothing to hide? Then why is it hidden?
Just my thoughts, my opinions, my write-about-what-you-do, and stay-on-task-here...but, me being a truewonder and all- I work amongst the roots. If the roots are no good, the plant cannot be productive, part of the scheme, the connection...
Just my two cents, not much change really-but even a little change, a little bit of thinking outside the box-stores might do all of us a bit of good.
And one more thing, because I feel the need to say this- Just when did making money over and above what is decent- become ethical? There are too many folks these days who would have us believe that making money by any fashion is ethical.???? Again, smell the horse shit?! It sure does stink.
Climbing down upon the ground... thanks for hanging and hoping with me...take care-
(No spell check net today, technology may be breaking up with me I'm afraid...)

Binge thinking

Long time no key...(s)...some idiot spilled a glass of water on the keyboard a few days back(me)and I was left to my thoughts. Binge thinking, hung over as hell! My head is pounding, eyes bloodshot- to many shots of clear insight.
Already so deep in here, I'll have to wear Muck boots, hope you have yours on too. And about this here new keyboard, well-may I say, compared to the last one, this one performs like a Jaguar. It took a few days to install as well, teens could stand it no more for I was not about to hook it up- see, I can install just about anything that doesn't require directions... or pertain to electronics, plumbing, fuel injections, or harming the environment. Yep, Jill of all trades- mistress of none. (But just give me an exploded view and wallah! I'll piece anything together...)
So, back to the keyboard...the teens look up to their mother, oh yes! They think I should do it all...not can do it all, just should. In looking up to me with their big, pitiful eyes like little baby birds waiting for that fat morsel of a worm...(keyboard installation)-they sat around the old nest here waiting to be fed. Nope, mama didn't budge- tossed the box their way and said "dear children, install it or your computerized party of a life will end." They thought I was bluffing. (But when these dear precious angels really give long pause and think about their mother hen, they know I rarely bluff- unless we're playing cards.) Oh they still used the computer, but could only listen- no reciprocating, no talking....oh the agony! So finally, the boy, the big 6' 3" saxophone playing maniac...took on the chore. It's a wireless keyboard, shouldn't have to install anything at all...except maybe batteries. The boy is a chip off the old block, he don't need no darn directions either! How he cussed(like teens do in front of their moms, no real authentic cuss words, kind of like the kid in Christmas story...futzerjam, mufinmanw,perlitzern,frickk...you get the picture.)fun really, to watch him do over and over again the same function, expecting different results, but the keyboard would not comply. Finally- a cloud of thought arose over his head, and a light bulb appeared, like a dream- the bulb clicked on. "We need batteries, dermiegonnit!" Oh I had to laugh, even I- a directionless winch of a woman- knew a bit about power sources...must have fuel, spark, electricity, solar or...a battery. Did I mention the boy is a minor giant, built like a line backer? He was not amused. Nope, not at all. The light bulb that burned above his head snapped off and horns, actual horns sprouted on his head. The look from those cold eyes told me to produce a frown, an "I'm sorry, tee hee hee..." and some double A's real soon.
So, that's kind of the story in the story of why I have not written, have been on a binge...key less no more. And the boy, the big big boy...stood up to his mother, how dare he! Yep, how dare he... made me proud, that boy sure did grow a bit the other day. Ferknmoleeshiz!
Take care-