2008 June « Silly Girls In Dresses

June 29, 2008, 7:17 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

JUNE 29, 2008

Ah, so I’m finally here on the farm. I’ve already sent this out in email form, but here it is in blog form:

Vickis Veggies is an 6 acre CSA farm (CSA = community supported agriculture: people become members and get shares of food each week from March-November) located in Picton, Ontario. Picton is a GORGEOUS island on the coast of Lake Ontario with acres and acres and acres of undeveloped land. A lot of golden, rolling fields and rocky beaches on Lake Ontario Recently, it’s been attracting a lot of tourists and older people moving from Toronto, so there is a lot of debate and tension about developing.

The farm! (well, one of the fields...)

View from Half Moon Bay at dusk

Black Creek empties into Lake Ontario

Anyway, Vicki’s is owned by Vicki and Tim, and employees 4 girls besides myself. Stacey, Stephanie and Jocelyn are all around my age, and Terry Lee is VIcki’s age. Working with them is the most fun ever; we basically just talk talk talk all day long as we weed or plant or harvest. It’s kind of like being at a party all the time, except instead of drinkin’ beers or whatnot, we’re outside in breathtakingly beautiful landscapes gettin’ tan and doing some farm work. It’s not as physically taxing as I thought it would be, although I’m definitely exhausted and gross and sweaty and achey at the end of each day. My farmers tan is ROCKIN! I’m so brown, and it’s a pretty even tan because it’s really hot and we basically all take off our shirts and work in these home-made bathing suit bra/top things that Vicki’s sister made. Of course, I’ve used about half a bottle of sunscreen in one week, but the rest of them here are so used to the sun that they just go without and don’t even burn.

Brenden, Stacey, Jocelyn, Stephanie and Vicki weeding carrots

Right now, we’re kinda in-between seasons. Spring is giving way into summer, which means we’re picking the last of the spinach, harvesting snow peas and snap peas, and trying to figure out what to do with the 260 lbs of garlic scapes we’ve got in the barn. Today, for example, we made 18 lbs of garlic scape pesto (while listening to Vicki’s old disco records and learning to do the hustle). I’m bringing the recipe home and having a garlic scape party. We also just planted some celery, and are beginning to harvest lettuce. We’ve spent most of our time, though, weeding the carrots and onion. It took us eight days to finish the carrots, and we’re still not done the onions; Tim says its because he put hay down in the fields before planting, which was a good environment for crabgrass seeds to take hold. Crabgrass is evil. It’s the hardest weed to pull out, in my opinion. Tim and Vicki also buy chickens from large industrial farms (they buy them for $7 a chicken, and basically save their lives) and raise them to lay eggs. Oh! How could I forget? It’s also strawberry season, so we just go strawberry picking every day in the field and have fresh strawberries constantly. I also have been learning a bit about herbs. So far, I can identify chamomile and cumphrey (i think thats how you spell it) and I know that cumphrey is used to keep bones strong and heal cuts quickly.

The days here are pretty nice: wake up at 8am, have a nice breakfast with Vicki and Tim and Sage (their adorable 3 year old daughter), work until the lunch bell calls us in at 12:30-ish, eat a MASSIVE lunch (seriously…I’m going to gain a million pounds while I’m here – and I’ll enjoy it!) with everyone at this long, fantastic wood table, go back to work until 5 or 6 and then done! We’ve been doing all sorts of things at night; one time we went swimming at Vicki’s sister’s house (her entire family sung me “Oh Canada” in an effort to teach it to me), another time we build a bonfire in the yard and just hung out, took out some guitars, played a few songs and watched the stars come out. I’ve never seen so many stars!

We weeded in the shape of a heart

Yesterday, Vicki, Tim, Sage, Stephanie and their friend Brendan and I all went out to this place called Little Bluff. It’s a rocky beach by Lake Ontario, and it’s the most gorgeous place ever. The rocks are all completely smooth and thick and round, and most of them are about the size of the palm of your hand. It lies right on the edge of the Lake, and the water is so clear that you can see straight to the bottom for at least ten feet out. Lake Ontario looks more like an ocean; you can’t see the other side (which is obvious, I guess, since it’s bigger than New Jersey). We build a campfire, and roasted some food, drank a bottle of wine, and roasted marshmellows. Sage got marshmellow gunk all over her face, and Tim taught me how to skip stones. I got pretty good at it!

Little Bluff

Tim, Sage, Vicki and Brenden skipping stones

We built a bbq! Mmm local, organic lamb....

The best thing, I think, about Picton and “the county” as people call Prince Edward County, is that it’s very rural, but everyone I’ve met here is extremely bright, well-traveled, and educated (although not always educated in the traditional sense). The things Stephanie knows about herbs and Japan, (two things she is interested in) could fit into an encyclopedia. Every story from Vicki seems to begin with “When I was in New Zealand/Germany/Spain/Australia/any other random country”, and Tim has lived in both the states and in Africa for extended periods of time. Jocelyn has been to Indonesia. It seems to be much more natural to travel here than it is in the states. Everyone I’ve met, even if they didn’t finish college, goes above and beyond in an effort to educate themselves about the things they are interested in. Sometimes it’s printmaking, sometimes it meditation, sometimes its videography or furniture making; but if you’ve got an interest in something here, it seems like people don’t stop learning about it until they become experts. Also, everyone seems very into politics; we talk about Canadian, US and international politics all the time in the fields. Stephanie jokingly calls Canada “the progressive wonderland” but in reality, its not as progressive as one might think. It’s similar to America except for gay marriage, healthcare, and not going to war every five seconds. Stacey jokes that the Canadian Navy is basically two men and a dinghy. Additionally, the amount of knowledge it takes to run a farm is breathtaking. Vicki’s Veggies is one of the most popular farms in the county; they have 80 CSA members, supply tons of restaurants and have their own little store next to the farmhouse. They’ve been written up in some national Canadian magazines, and basically, are the best small business ever. Of course, I’m learning about all the difficulties of running a farm as well; it’s hard to make a profit off of selling vegetables locally, so Vicki and Tim rely heavily on the food tourism industry that is alive and well in Picton. The government also subsidizes some of the wages for their employees. Even in a town as environmentally conscious as Picton, it’s hard to compete with large food companies.

However, although I’m learning slowly about HOW to farm, I’m really learning about the importance of farming, I think. What you eat is so integral both to your physical and spiritual health, and the way of life here is a perfect balance between constantly busy and constantly relaxed. People here put health, family, friends, the environment, and a healthy sense of hard work before anything else. Native county folk aren’t the richest people I’ve met, but they don’t want for a single thing, it seems, because they’ve got everything they need right in their backyard. I think it’s a combination of the way of life in general, and the political climate of Canada. I’m definitely glad I came here, and I wish I was staying longer!

Anyway, last night we went to a barn near Belleville for a Slow Food event – Slow Food is kinda like Buy Fresh Buy Local (a local food organization). They showed a documentary about the fight for raw milk in Canada. Apparently, it is illegal to distribute raw milk here (it is legal in pennsylvania), and this guy, Michael Schmidt, distributes it anyway. He loads it onto a big blue bus and sells it to “cow share” members. Apparently, some people prefer raw milk because pasteurization destroys a lot of milk’s beneficial properties and nutrients. Milk is a natural immune system booster, and there are a lot of documented cases of cancer patients switching to raw milk and surviving. Additionally, many kids brought up on raw milk as opposed to pasteurized milk usually have less allergies and stronger immune systems. It also turns out that lactose intolerance is caused by drinking only pasteurized milk; lactose intolerant people can drink raw milk! There is another side of the story, about disease, which the film addresses as well. The film, though, didn’t focus as much on the benefits of milk; it wasn’t propaganda for raw milk. Instead, it was mostly about how a Canadian’s right to choose what to put in their bodies is being violated. I thought it was a smart way to go. The guy in the film, the milk guy, was actually at the film screening and I got to talk to him afterwards. And then, the barn collapsed (kinda). A beam in the floor broke, underneath a part where all the wine and cheese was, so we moved the party outside. It was after the film had been shown, so it wasn’t that bad.

Outside the barn after a beam in the floor collapsed from all the food and wine

Front of barn before the raw milk screening

Alright, that’s enough for now.

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“full of beans”

June 20, 2008, 1:23 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

A 61 year old woman named Rosie Swale-Pope just finished a 20,000 mile run around the world. Yes…the entire globe.

She survived Siberian rapids, pnuemonia, 29 marriage proposals, and a drunk man wielding an ax running from his vodka party. She also sailed around the world – nude – in the 1970s.

Just read the article.

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depending on your definition of “walls”

June 18, 2008, 3:51 pm
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A few nights ago, I screamed inside the rented car.

It felt more like an exhaled explosion. I think back to the velvet dark nights at the Tiberino Museum. The fire breathers would swallow their flaming clubs, and it would get a bit darker as the flames, which had lit up the mirror mobiles hanging in the trees, disappeared down their throats. Then, hold their breath, clench their neck muscles and wait those few seconds to spit the heat back up again. I think I’ve been a fire breather in training. I’ve perfected swallowing and hiding, but I have not begun to breath back out. I missed the whole point!

But the other night I screamed in the rented car, and it was warm and delicious. A good, long scream does feel like flames. You’re throat burns, and afterwards it aches, it feels singed. But I’ve always liked the feeling of being a little bit used, worn and broken; it makes me feel productive.

The point is, now that I’ve begun to teach myself to breath fire, I need to redecorate my room. A room, you know, is a reflection of a soul. It’s like the coastlines of South America and Africa. You know they fit together. The room and the body inside of it are coastlines that have been separated by philosophy, by dualism, by whatever cruel tectonic plates decided to move and rip apart the material and the spiritual. We can still see the seam where they ripped. Right now, my room is decorated to fit what my person SHOULD be. I’m taking everything off the walls and starting over again. These are some things I would like:

- a large, fluffy, soft comforter. It should resemble a cloud.

- a black phone with the curly cord thing and a rotary dial

- lots and lots and lots of shelves and books

- souvenirs from special conversations I’ve had

- pictures in wooden frames. Maybe some stuck in the corners of my mirror as well

-a cat treehouse (Pete, I know you’re not mine, but you are the best cat-nephew a girl could have!)

- a rug!

- hanging plants. At least 3. Maybe some herbs.

- more PAINTINGS. I’ve got Jess’s so far. It’s beautiful and I love it.

- a big box full of pretty notebooks and sheet music, and a mug filled with pens that write really, really well.

- a big chair to sit and play guitar in. Preferably positioned under the hanging plants.

- a change jar filled with change and guitar picks.

And, depending on your definition of walls, I have other living spaces to redecorate as well. Here is my wishlist for them:

- people who challenge me and make me a better person

- more thoughtful conversation

- a small plot of land and some seeds

- unselfish love

- access to a clean body of water and a big tree

- wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden ceilings and wooden beams. The smell of wood and smoke

- coffee shops. More coffee shops!

- motivation to go running.

- time to think about things and decide whether to say yes or no

- more things I want to say yes to than no to

- compromises instead of one-way manipulation

- a library and a library card

- more best friends, less acquaintances

- lots and lots of stamps in my passport

- understanding about my eating habits

- the eradication of elitism

If you know where I can get any of the above items, please alert me post-haste. For now, I think I should get dressed and go get some things for Canada.

CANADA!

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tainted tomatoes

June 12, 2008, 5:24 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Ah, another outbreak in the food industry.

As someone who has had salmonella, this is not a fun story to hear. What’s even more disturbing is how the government is allowed to handle outbreaks like this one. I know it might not be the same for tomatoes, but it is frightening how little power the government has over recalls of food. Just read this excerpt from an interview with Eric Schlosser in The Atlantic;

“Very few people realize that the U.S. government does not have the power to order the recall of contaminated meat. The Clinton administration made a sincere effort to reform the nation’s food-safety and inspection program, but the Republicans in Congress were determined to impede any major overhaul of the system. So what we wound up with is a watered-down food-safety system. One of the most remarkable things is that meatpacking companies today are routinely testing their meat for dangerous pathogens, but don’t have to reveal the results of these tests to the government. A recent investigation by the Inspector General of the USDA suggested that companies are shipping meat that they’ve tested and that they know to be contaminated. By not revealing the test results to the USDA, they’re able to ship this meat. It’s incredible what is being sold in supermarkets throughout the country as we speak.”

I don’t understand how people can eat anything anymore. I’m about to leave for Canada on my little sustainable agriculture adventure, so I’ll be writing a lot in the future about agriculture.

Also, I feel like I need to give my other passion (music) a lil’ attention on this blog, so look forward to a post on Orphan Works. Hellll yea.

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