Category: Reflections

  • Never In a Car

    It’s Thursday, time to take eggs and salad greens and garlic scapes to Tweets Café in Edison. I was thinking that it wasn’t that big a deal delivering my produce by bicycle. It’s only five miles, hardly far enough to use a car. Like, what sane person with good legs uses a one to two ton piece of machinery to only go five miles? That’s crazy talk.

    But what am I going to do as production ramps up? How many cartons of salad greens can I safely carry on my bicycle rack? It’s time to start designing or looking for a light trailer I can hitch to the back of the bicycle.

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    Then again, delivering eggs and produce by bicycle is a big deal. How often can you go to a store and buy eggs or produce that has never been in a motor vehicle? What restaurant can you go to where you can eat something that was not transported by a vehicle burning fossil fuel?

    At Tweets! Granted, most of the things you eat there will have spent time in a fossil fuel burning truck, but at least some of the eggs and salad greens will have arrived without ever having been in a motor vehicle. Kinda neat, don’t you think?

  • A Ball of Butter or Dairy Liberation

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    Yesterday I had a bit of cream left, maybe a cup and a half, so I set it out in a bowl to culture overnight to churn it into butter this morning. I ended up with a small ball of butter. It got me thinking into how little selection people have anymore when it comes to buying things like butter. It’s all made in vast quantities by just a handful of companies.

    Yet, the milk from every cow is slightly different. The milk a cow produces each day is slightly different, depending on the season and what she ate recently. Even the weather has an effect on the milk. Did she just spend a peaceful, stress free day in warm sunshine, or was it cold and dreary with a cantankerous farmer thrown into the mix? The milk from each farm varies as the vegetation the cows eat and the soil the vegetation grows on varies from farm to farm.

    But all of those wonderful differences are erased in modern food production and we end up with endless quantities of the same tasting butter no matter when or where we shop. Food safety regulations make it cost prohibitive for small, single farm dairies to exist. Which is sad as flavors which stand out occur at the micro scale, not the macro scale where everything is blended together.

    When you make your own butter, you get to decide how much buttermilk you squeeze out of the butter. This changes the consistency and taste of the butter. You get to decide how long to let your butter age on the counter at room temperature. Are you going to add a bit of yoghurt to help age the butter? If so, what kind of yoghurt are you going to use? Are you going to churn it by hand or with a mixer? You get to decide which farm’s cream to use. All of these things affect the taste of the butter you make.

    If there were hundreds of small single, farm dairies within a short distance of a city, those living in the city could have a tantalizing variety of butters to choose. People would be keenly aware of the difference between spring and fall butter, the difference between summer and winter butter. There would be prized, single-cow butters. Food critics would wax eloquently about the exquisite taste of Bertha’s butter from the McMann farm, or the robust flavor of Molly’s butter from the Svenson farm, or the sublime essence of Henrietta’s butter from the Amstutz farm. Life would be infinitely more fun!

    The last decade we’ve witnessed beer being liberated from the huge breweries. Now there are thousands of local breweries delivering a variety of beers unimaginable twenty years ago. It’s time for a dairy liberation and a proliferation of butter, milk, and cream varieties. Hopefully, twenty years from now we will look back and wonder how we managed with just a handful of butters on the grocery shelves.

    Also see:

  • The Cows Are Back

    Back in May, I mentioned missing the cows on a nearby farm. Today when I was pedaling home from the post office, the cows were back. I stopped and talked to the owner. He was looking pretty good, but did say he wasn’t sure what his prognosis was. He will be keeping the cows on the farm into fall. He didn’t think he would winter them there.

    I wish him well. At one point, he had lost use of his right side, but he has regained use of it. He still sleeps much of the day as the chemotherapy wears him out.

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    His farm is such a magical place. It is like something you would read about in a fairy tale. His wood stacks are works of art. The flower beds, fruit trees, and rambling vines look like illustrations out of a children’s story book. I look forward to bicycling by the farm every day.

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    See: Cancer Strikes and Now I Miss the Cows

  • Solstice Evening Near the Center of the Universe

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    It’s the summer solstice. The two mother hens aren’t staying up to watch the sun set on this longest day of the year. They have gone to bed early. I wonder where the two chicks they share are sleeping. During the night do the chicks sneak from one mother to the other?

    On this longest day, the dogwood is in full bloom.

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    From the top of the roof, I watch the last of the sun rays climb to the top of the trees and disappear. There is still the heat of summer to come, but we all feel a little sadness as the days start to shorten.

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    This far north, the solstice must be celebrated. In Seattle, in Fremont, the center of the universe, the Solstice Festivities are in full swing. From their website about the parade:

    The Fremont Solstice Parade welcomes the Solstice Cyclists to ride in our parade. Please be advised that riders will not be wearing clothes and full nudity is to be expected. All cyclists are required to be painted and costumed for the ride. Most are. The Parade is not a nudist event, it is an Art event that recognizes the human body as a canvas and the joy of riding as a part of our community’s creative expression.

    The Fremont Solstice Parade is a special event that makes Seattle special. If you’ve never been, mark next year’s calendar for the summer solstice and plan a trip to Seattle. And if you don’t believe Fremont is the center of the universe, there is a guidepost in Fremont, marking the exact spot. The Metropolitan King County Council officially proclaimed Fremont as the Center of the Universe on July 25, 1994.

    Now, therefore, be it proclaimed by the Council of King County;
    The Artistic Republic of Fremont is hereby declared, decreed, and determined to be an Independent ImagiNation and a Mecca for those of independent minds and spirits, and is forever and fervently empowered with all the rights and privileges thereto accruing. Further, the Metropolitan King County Council plainly postulates and proclaims Fremont to be Center of the Universe, indeed, and hereby supports Fremont in its gallant endeavors to apply to the United Nations for sovereign status under international law.

    A Man and His Hoe is about an hour and a half away from The Center of the Universe, but when you consider how many trillions of light years across the universe is, being just an hour and a half away from the center is like practically being right there.

  • Solstice Eve

    It’s the eve of the summer solstice. I’m not ready for the days to start getting shorter. The summer solstice comes too early. Days should keep getting longer until mid or late August. Many Iris are in bloom, and the apples are growing past their baby stage.

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    Driving home from picking up a truckload of supplies, two ducks forced me to stop. They were in no rush to cross the road. Such is life around here. This is no place to live if you are in a hurry.

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