Hardcore Locavore

I thought it was a lot of money for a tomato, to be honest, but I live in the country, and I believe in supporting local agriculture.  We were on our way home from the vet and needed a tomato.  I have a "regular" farm, but it wasn't on my way home, so I stopped at a farm stand I've never visited before.  I  took my hefty tomato to the register, and the lovely older gentleman said "That will be $2.51."  I NEVER complain about the price of produce because I have read enough to know the investment of time, money, and labor it takes to produce locally grown, organic, sustainable food.

When I looked in my wallet, I only had twenties and a single.

"I'm sorry to do this to you," I admitted, "but I only have a $20."

I handed it over, and he poked around in the cash box.

"I don't have any change so just don't worry about it," he demanded.

"NO!"  I answered vehemently.  "I'm not taking your tomato.  This is your livelihood!"

"Well," he suggested, "do you live nearby?"

I do actually.

"Just drop it off the next time you drive by."

I gave him the $1 I did have.  "Okay," I compromised, "now you have some change.  Monday I'm going back to the vet so I'll drop off the $1.50 I owe you."

When you live in the country, and a kindly gentleman restores (some of) your faith in humanity, $2.51 is a small price to pay.

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day Six

Accidental Farmers

I find all people fascinating really.  If I channeled the time I spend each day examining people and trying to understand how and why they do the things they do, I could probably hold down a part time job.  However, this is only a 30 Day Writing Challenge so I have to limit myself.  For a number of years now, I have been fascinated by Josh Kilmer-Purcell and Dr. Brent Ridge, the Fabulous Beekman Boys.  I first learned about the Beekman Boys in 2009 when I watched their show on Planet Green.  The premise of the reality show was that Dr. Brent Ridge and his writer husband Josh Kilmer-Purcell, both New York City residents, bought a farm in Sharon Springs, New York.  While Brent stayed on the farm trying to make it financially successful, Josh commuted from the city for weekends.  They are a charming couple of gentleman farmers whose early struggles with farm life and trying to hold together a long distance relationship provided good entertainment.  Eventually, their efforts made the farm self-sustaining, probably through Josh's experience with public relations and Brent's brilliant ideas for producing and marketing goods manufactured with goods from their farm at Beekman 1802.  It didn't hurt that they won The Amazing Race...and that they have a good relationship with Martha Stewart.

I WAS easily drawn in by their reality TV show, The Fabulous Beekman Boys, but what really caught my interest was the idea of contemporary, small town farming.  Having read Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, I was already interested in the idea of living more closely to the land.  I read Josh and Brent's books and watched all the episodes of The Fabulous Beekman Boys and then set out to read everything I could find about small time farmers.  I devoured books about urban farming:  Farm City, by Novella Carpenter, who went so far as to raise pigs in downtown Oakland; My Empire of Dirt, by Manny Howard, who attempted to raise chickens and meat rabbits in his backyard in Flatbush; and The Accidental Farmers, by Tim Young. 

Although I am far from owning a farm or living off the land, I am proud that these investigations have led me to be more thoughtful about the food I feed my family.  I've certainly written a lot in this blog about our CSA adventures, my attempts to reduce the processed food my family eats, my dedication to reducing the amount of meat we consume, and my passion for investing my money whenever possible in local farms.  Recently, I enjoyed a heartfelt conversation with "my" farmer, a mile down the road from my house, about her mixed feelings about her new baby piglets.  Although they were cute as a button, she was torn because she knew that they would soon be orphans.  We talked about the ethical burden of choosing to eat meat, but how important it is to know that it has been raised kindly and gently and lived a nice life.  We were both close to tears about the piglets, but we're not ready to stop eating bacon.  I stop in at Sport Hill Farm at least once a week to buy as much of my produce as I can before I hit Stop and Shop; almost everything Patti sells is grown on her farm.  She sells some products that are grown elsewhere, but she only sells products from farmers whose practices she knows she can stand behind.  This food consciousness makes me feel secure about what I am feeding my family and myself.  I love investing my money in a small, local farm rather than factory agriculture.

It seems silly to attribute this journey to a reality TV show, but Josh and Brent's engaging and humorous portrayal of farm life helped me recognize that there are other ways to live, that a simpler life, closer to the land, is a possibility for any of us.  I haven't followed their post-Amazing Race adventures as closely, but from time to time I enjoy seeing what's new in the lives of the gentlemen farmers of Sharon Springs. 

Resolutions

Last year, I didn't make any New Year's resolutions because I had already spent a good year or so making one, green, environmentally friendly resolution at a time until I incorporated it into my lifestyle. I still have a similar feeling. There are some things in my life I'm always working on (or trying to work on), and it seems trite to make them New Year's Resolutions:  exercise more; be more patient with Duncan; floss every day; keep recycling paper; stop procrastinating. This is hardly the stuff of a REAL resolution. And now, here we are, fifty-some-odd days out from New Year's...and it's a little late. I can't call them birthday resolutions because it's too late; I can't chalk them up to Lent because that would by hypocritical; but there are a couple of things I want to work on, and writing them down and publishing them will help me focus.  So here they are, with you as my witnesses.  The Great Snowpocalypse Resolutions of 2010. There are only two, but they are complex and and tightly intertwined...tangled...if you will.

1.  Make Stuff

I love creating things. I like to knit, I'm obsessed with textiles, I love to read craft blogs, and I own way too many craft books. Although I have limitations when it comes to finishing things, I like the idea of making things for my friends and family. I like putting the time into making something unique, and I like the creative outlet. Crafting makes me feel relaxed and useful, and it calms my brain. It benefits the earth as well. Knitting a gift for someone is more ecologically friendly than driving to the mall and throwing down money for a product that is made of materials that don't biodegrade, that are packaged in excessive paper and plastic, that have often been produced in ways that are not friendly to people or the environment, and that have acquired a large carbon footprint in their production and delivery.

You may mock me now, if you know me, because you know I have not picked up my knitting needles in a year except to make a stab at Baby Ben's baby sweater, which I never finished.  Baby Ben is nearly 2, and I started that sweater before he was born. That sweater is a mark of my failure, but I'm too stubborn to rip it out and too incapable of finish the second sleeve.  Anywho...

I think I can make a stab at this. I have already started a storage bin in the basement to collect completed projects for next Christmas. I started with the ubiquitous scarf:  easy to start, quick to knit, easy to finish. I'm knitting scarves for each of Duncan's teachers. He has four teachers, and I'm working on my third scarf. It seems like a reasonable goal. I'm also working on the infamous gift I started for Lorna eons ago. I have ideas for knitting projects and other crafts for everyone in my family. If I approach this resolution one project at a time, I can make serious progress. (Well, I need to have two projects going at any one time so I don't get bored, but NO MORE THAN TWO!  ANY more than two is a recipe for disaster)

It's simple really. Make stuff...for myself, my family, and the earth. Our ancestors did it. I can do it.

2.  Buy Less Stuff

I live in the middle of nowhere. It is an hour drive to a shopping mall or a decent department store. Whatever. I chose this life, and I need to live it without whining. The problem is that it has become my excuse to buy whatever I need or want on the internet. The ease with which I can justify ordering things is terrifying, and it's causing a lot of problems. Let's start with how far my stuff travels, eating up nonrenewable fossil fuels. What am I thinking? I need to learn to plan better, to do without, or to think about a purchase before committing to its carbon footprint. Secondly, we have too much stuff. You can see it with the naked eye. We're out of space, and our house is full of things that will ultimately end up in a landfill. All my efforts to live, clean, and eat in a sustainable way are being undone by the boxes that arrive daily from Amazon.com. Finally, there is the little matter of how I have been paying with those purchases, often with a credit card, for its pure convenience. We want to buy a house; we have too much credit card debt; we have too much stuff; we care about the earth. It's a pretty simple equation. Solve for x. X = Buy Less Stuff.

The easiest way for me to tackle this resolution is to revisit Shawn Achor's twenty-one day plan to making a life change. Beginning on March 1, for 21 days, I'm only allowing myself to make online purchases if I use my debit card. I think it will be difficult for the first week and will grow progressively easier. The debit card has a much lower limit (ha ha) so I will need to stop and think about my purchases. Imagine.  Stop. And. Think.  Stop. And. Think. = Buy. Less. Stuff.

3.  Make Stuff/Buy Less Stuff

Do you see how they are intertwined? Maybe not; perhaps it's not as obvious I think it is. If I make stuff, I won't need to buy as much stuff. That's pretty simple, right? If I make stuff, I will also reclaim the kind of creativity that will encourage me to repurpose what I already have. I will slow down my need to acquire as I relearn the patience it requires to stick with a project through its completion. Maybe, I'll be too busy knitting to have time to shop. Maybe I'll develop such an appreciation for hand-crafted, eco-friendly stuff that I'll lose my taste for the mass produced, just as I have lost the ability to eat Kraft processed cheese slices. If I make stuff, I will buy less stuff. I will consume fewer resources and return less to the landfill.

It may be a fantasy, but it's my fantasy. I firmly believe that these changes are the most logical next steps in my attempts to lead a greener and more sustainable lifestyle, and they're essential if we want to be ready to buy our own house (with some fantasy solar panels...). Wish me luck. I have some scarves to finish.

(And Jay, if you're reading this, sometimes it's okay to use the word "stuff" - as long as you have thought it out and used it for effect.)