1 hour and 10 minutes is how long it takes me to get from the farm to the big city grocery store/art lessons, etc. I take the back way, not really dirt roads, just smaller highways 55 MPH speed limit just about all the way. There is another way that is mostly 70 MPH Interstate and while logic says that is easier, no thinking driving- it takes 1 hour and 45 minutes for the same point to point.
That is kind of a metaphor for the whole of our lives. We go slower, go the back way which is beautiful rolling hills, get there all the same, but happier and safer. I know too many people who choose the conventional fast way, never slow down, choose convenience over logic or common sense just because it is easier to put on cruise control and just drive, drive, drive until something stops the inertia or forces a slow down. Something like heart disease or cancer or a car crash or infertility or a sudden allergy or gall bladder attack or all of the above.
The way we eat is simpler, cheaper, but takes more thought. The clothes we buy, simpler, cheaper, but takes more effort in the finding. The way we parent is simpler, cheaper, but takes more thought and effort. The way we educate is also not mainstream. See the pattern? We still get from point A to point B, which is the goal right? Slow down, take a deep breath and just be for a bit. We take the highway sometimes too. It is all about making it work not an extreme of one over the other.
Now, we don't take back roads by horse and buggy. Obviously we have melded two worlds, two ideals and found what works for us.
We use a wood stove to heat the house and cook with, but we have the gas range and electric in the kitchen in use too. We read real paper books, but also have kindle apps on our phones and computers. This list goes on and on.
Usually, in blog essays like this, I have found that the authors tend to then get very wishy washy about not judging one way of farming/parenting/eating over another- that they are all good and we do what works for us.
That's not how I feel about it at all. Parents who physically and emotionally abuse their children do not get a free pass because it "works" for them. I feel this way about Cry It Out parenting. Not cool. Spanking, also not cool.
Diet and fat free foods are unhealthy and gross. They cause cancer and illness. Diet sodas, fat free dairy products....not good for people and I am not going to stop calling those products chemical shitstorms. I will not ever willingly or knowingly eat margarine. Butter is actually good and healthy. Still, this is not a deal breaker for me, and I generally let live on this topic.
Farming. We do not farm the way we do just because it is easier or works for us. We do it because it is ethical and we strongly believe that animals should be treated with respect and each life cared for before we earn the privilege of that animal nourishing our family or anyone's family. I will not ever say that conventional confinement pork production is fine and ok because it works for someone's family. Sure I understand that folks are in over their head in debt and need to feed and care for their kids, but that doesn't make the cruelty of the animals acceptable and I am not going to ever shut up about it. I believe in a better way and I truly think that the more we educate and demand change the more likely our dollar backed votes will create that change.
I am sick of people being luke warm on these topics, especially farming. Just because I know and you know great and wonderful caring people who farm and raise livestock in a good way doesn't mean the whole industry doesn't need a revolution. Just because those folks are good, doesn't mean they are doing good. Just because people have kids and healthcare needs does not mean that farming practices that exploit people and harm animals get a free pass.
We don't just do what works for us. We are also a voice for change. We have to be, too many people are silent on the matters that matter.
What are you using your voice for?
A blog about farming, unschooling, feminism, 22q deletion syndrome, cooking real food, homesteading, permaculture, and motherhood.
Tuesday, 24 September 2013
1 hour, 10 Minutes or The Road Through the Woods
Mother, wife, sister, friend. This is our second year on the farm, a dream we've had since we were first married. We unschool, AP parent, and grow our own food (or try to).
Monday, 23 September 2013
Severing Ties With the Past
This post is not about what you think it is about.
It is about my house. The house that is not my house anymore.
For 13 years I was the The Mistress of Hatton House. I need to let that go. I need to say goodbye to that part of my life. I still come across items and pin it thinking it would be perfect for the back parlour. The house doesn't even have the same floor plan now, and still I dream about walking the halls and the ghosts that haunted me when I lived there.
The empty rooms used to laugh at me when I cried longing for a baby. Infertility. PCOS. Broken systems. Not the right time.
I know why these themes are haunting me again.
Isaac is two and starting to wean. My body is returning to the phase that waits for the next baby to grow and come. That is no longer a possibility for us. Some people know when their family is complete, and I know ours isn't. That doesn't change the fact that in the course of three births and one tramautic delivery, the scaring and damage is too great to support life anymore. That makes me sad to the depths of my soul and brings me back to the tear filled heartbroken days that I longed to get pregnant, each month, each year, a let down after a burst of hope.
I have three beautiful children. The memories of this era are returning and I am grieving for the loss.
To let go of the Hatton House is to let go of that grief and move on. We left the house incomplete. The projects we started were not done, left in a state of not done, as we packed and moved on to our next adventures. In many ways we are still paying for that era, that education, and if asked, "Was it worth it?" I will answer a million times, "Yes."
Our family is incomplete, not done, left in a state of not done, and yet we have packed up and moved on to our next adventures. I see the parallel. I feel it to the depth of my heart. I tremor with longing when I hold my friends' tiny new babies. This is hard to let go of.
I thought that writing about it might make the transition easier, maybe it will.
It is about my house. The house that is not my house anymore.
For 13 years I was the The Mistress of Hatton House. I need to let that go. I need to say goodbye to that part of my life. I still come across items and pin it thinking it would be perfect for the back parlour. The house doesn't even have the same floor plan now, and still I dream about walking the halls and the ghosts that haunted me when I lived there.
The empty rooms used to laugh at me when I cried longing for a baby. Infertility. PCOS. Broken systems. Not the right time.
I know why these themes are haunting me again.
Isaac is two and starting to wean. My body is returning to the phase that waits for the next baby to grow and come. That is no longer a possibility for us. Some people know when their family is complete, and I know ours isn't. That doesn't change the fact that in the course of three births and one tramautic delivery, the scaring and damage is too great to support life anymore. That makes me sad to the depths of my soul and brings me back to the tear filled heartbroken days that I longed to get pregnant, each month, each year, a let down after a burst of hope.
I have three beautiful children. The memories of this era are returning and I am grieving for the loss.
To let go of the Hatton House is to let go of that grief and move on. We left the house incomplete. The projects we started were not done, left in a state of not done, as we packed and moved on to our next adventures. In many ways we are still paying for that era, that education, and if asked, "Was it worth it?" I will answer a million times, "Yes."
Our family is incomplete, not done, left in a state of not done, and yet we have packed up and moved on to our next adventures. I see the parallel. I feel it to the depth of my heart. I tremor with longing when I hold my friends' tiny new babies. This is hard to let go of.
I thought that writing about it might make the transition easier, maybe it will.
Sunday, 22 September 2013
Drenched in Cidre, Part 3
Photo courtesy of Jessica Fisher |
As promised the two pictures of Chad and I together in the same frame. I can count on my hands how many pictures we have of us together, since I am usually behind the camera! Thank you Jessica for this gift!
Photo courtesy of Jessica Fisher |
Photo courtesy of Jessica Fisher |
So the technical notes on the project are as follows.....The cloth bag that the press came with got trashed in the washing machine. I destroy everything in my washer- from cloth diapers to bath towels. This was no exception. So, I bought a nylon net laundry bag and it happened to fit perfectly. Just enough slack to get good movement.
Note that there is a giant clamp on the top holding the grinder on. Do not grind whole apples. Do not let me work the crank. The two together equal broken destruction show. I guess I have a lot of upper body strength that isn't immediately obvious, or maybe the screws were installed wrong. Anyway, quarter the apples first.
Next, once the press is screwed down, do not try and keep going. Let it rest for 5 minutes at least before turning again. We cracked the wooden disc not following this rule. I think the disk was cracked before hand though, also, I spoke with an older farmer who had experience with pressing and he said that it should have been made with two discs and installed with the grain of the wood of the two running crosswise from each other. That way the natural stress of the grain of the wood is distributed. Makes sense. When we get the replacement I will inspect it for this.
I have a cast iron sausage press. It looks very similar. I think it make work for apples and for cheese. I will try it once I get it cleaned up this week.
Chad has the idea to build a Whiz Bang press.....I am very much excited about this. I am apple crazy!
Also, Isaac didn't care for peaches this summer but he is making up for it in apple consumption. Whoa buddy, is he.
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