Saturday, October 24, 2009
350
Today's number is 350.
My ancestors had different numbers. The Irish side had the number 1 as their bench mark. Yes, they planted only 1 type of potato and eventually that idea of single food allowed them to multiply, become food independent and over populate Ireland. History tells us that they never considered diversifying, their single food supply cause a famine.
Potatoes comes from Peru and there are over 2.000 varieties. These people understand diversity.
Some of my ancestors settling in America only planted wheat for 10 years because the government paid high prices during WWI. So did every other farmer from Illinois to Texas and Oklahoma. These people plowed up grassland in the center of this country that were thousands of years in the making and exposed the top soil that is created 1 inches every 100 years. Eventually the dust blow so far east it hit Washington, D.C. and was seen 100 miles into the Atlantic Ocean. By then, 8 inches of top soil was gone. Men were talking about new policies in agriculture as the sky became dark on the east coast.
Today's number is 350, it reflects the idea that most scientists think is a safe level of CO2 for planet Earth. Currently, we are heading toward 390. Media in United States, policy makers and the general public are not concern about number 350.
When President Kennedy came to office, the population was 30 billion, our cars were fewer and our homes were smaller and the United States military complex was just starting. Now the military wants to control the fuel of the planet Earth of which they are probably the single largest consumer along with being the single largest land owner of this planet. While we can figure out if 350 is a real number, the Earth is expected to clean up after the 60 billion people for a while longer.
Life has put me on 1/3 of an acre of land, doubt if it is a 1/2 of a dot on the earth. I feel a need to care for it, my ancestors have taught me, numbers do count.
My ancestors had different numbers. The Irish side had the number 1 as their bench mark. Yes, they planted only 1 type of potato and eventually that idea of single food allowed them to multiply, become food independent and over populate Ireland. History tells us that they never considered diversifying, their single food supply cause a famine.
Potatoes comes from Peru and there are over 2.000 varieties. These people understand diversity.
Some of my ancestors settling in America only planted wheat for 10 years because the government paid high prices during WWI. So did every other farmer from Illinois to Texas and Oklahoma. These people plowed up grassland in the center of this country that were thousands of years in the making and exposed the top soil that is created 1 inches every 100 years. Eventually the dust blow so far east it hit Washington, D.C. and was seen 100 miles into the Atlantic Ocean. By then, 8 inches of top soil was gone. Men were talking about new policies in agriculture as the sky became dark on the east coast.
Today's number is 350, it reflects the idea that most scientists think is a safe level of CO2 for planet Earth. Currently, we are heading toward 390. Media in United States, policy makers and the general public are not concern about number 350.
When President Kennedy came to office, the population was 30 billion, our cars were fewer and our homes were smaller and the United States military complex was just starting. Now the military wants to control the fuel of the planet Earth of which they are probably the single largest consumer along with being the single largest land owner of this planet. While we can figure out if 350 is a real number, the Earth is expected to clean up after the 60 billion people for a while longer.
Life has put me on 1/3 of an acre of land, doubt if it is a 1/2 of a dot on the earth. I feel a need to care for it, my ancestors have taught me, numbers do count.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Hens, eggs and golf balls
From the beginning the my hens has been engaging and challenging but one of these mysteries of raising chickens has been going on now for a month. Liz, named after Liz Taylor because of her totally black feathers, is unlike any of the other five hens.
My two beautiful black and white hens, I call the twins. They are largest of the group and now I find them to be the most assertive and top of the pecking order. I often make up a cereal mixture, or have food scraps from the dinner table and I serve it in two plastic long dishes in their coop. Without fail, these two hens control who eats first and are particularly aggressive toward my two red hens. Liz usually is not seen at this feeding moments.
One of the red hens is called Autumn because she displays the colors much like a pheasant in autumn colors, she is the best layer, blue/green eggs and is an Americana breed. I find her intense on the business of being herself. Unlike any of the other hens she has a little puff of feathers on the side of her head that stick straight out, I understand that is over her ears.
The other red hen is called Red. She is my best flier. She manages to get out on average once a day. Red is probably the lightest in weight and is the smartest of the birds. As I leave the house, Red comes to greeting from behind a raised bed or from a far corner of the yard. I walk toward the coop shaking some oats in a container she will follow me and easily go back in as she has missed the rest of the flock. Red suffers the most bulling from the twins at feeding time.
But Liz is the one that is a mystery. Liz ignores my noisy food container, ignores fresh water and food. She sits on three golf balls and devotes her days and nights to keep them warm while laying no eggs of her own. Occasionally, I push her out of the nest, weekly I will force her to run the yard when I am feeling generous about leaving my chickens roam free for a couple hours. I am amazed to find she will fly lowly across the yard, a flight that could easily be 20 to 30 feet. I can attest to her feasting on some clover, dancing her little two step over some bare ground but before I turn my head she is heading back to the open coop door and her golf balls.
I have tested her and moved two of the golf balls four inches away from her nest. I check 30 minutes later and she has moved her "eggs" back under her. Golf balls are one of the standard tricks to encourage chickens to lay in the nest. Liz puffs up her feathers when ever I open the nest box door to look larger but she is as gentle as humming bird. The light on her feathers produces all the colors of nature bouncing off her black. Yesterday, I found she had moved a golf ball out of the other nest eight inches.
Broody hens are common in a flock and Liz is in that mood now.
My two beautiful black and white hens, I call the twins. They are largest of the group and now I find them to be the most assertive and top of the pecking order. I often make up a cereal mixture, or have food scraps from the dinner table and I serve it in two plastic long dishes in their coop. Without fail, these two hens control who eats first and are particularly aggressive toward my two red hens. Liz usually is not seen at this feeding moments.
One of the red hens is called Autumn because she displays the colors much like a pheasant in autumn colors, she is the best layer, blue/green eggs and is an Americana breed. I find her intense on the business of being herself. Unlike any of the other hens she has a little puff of feathers on the side of her head that stick straight out, I understand that is over her ears.
The other red hen is called Red. She is my best flier. She manages to get out on average once a day. Red is probably the lightest in weight and is the smartest of the birds. As I leave the house, Red comes to greeting from behind a raised bed or from a far corner of the yard. I walk toward the coop shaking some oats in a container she will follow me and easily go back in as she has missed the rest of the flock. Red suffers the most bulling from the twins at feeding time.
But Liz is the one that is a mystery. Liz ignores my noisy food container, ignores fresh water and food. She sits on three golf balls and devotes her days and nights to keep them warm while laying no eggs of her own. Occasionally, I push her out of the nest, weekly I will force her to run the yard when I am feeling generous about leaving my chickens roam free for a couple hours. I am amazed to find she will fly lowly across the yard, a flight that could easily be 20 to 30 feet. I can attest to her feasting on some clover, dancing her little two step over some bare ground but before I turn my head she is heading back to the open coop door and her golf balls.
I have tested her and moved two of the golf balls four inches away from her nest. I check 30 minutes later and she has moved her "eggs" back under her. Golf balls are one of the standard tricks to encourage chickens to lay in the nest. Liz puffs up her feathers when ever I open the nest box door to look larger but she is as gentle as humming bird. The light on her feathers produces all the colors of nature bouncing off her black. Yesterday, I found she had moved a golf ball out of the other nest eight inches.
Broody hens are common in a flock and Liz is in that mood now.
Friday, October 16, 2009
hi tech and faces
It has come to my attention that the use of today's machines has caused a shift in how we relate to each other.
Now in a Doctor's office there are those that are typing away while asking questions about your health even the Doctor is part of this new system. It is reported that in hospitals that a team of interns move from room to room updating the reports on the computer, order new tests and check the meds that are on the chart all saved on the laptop. All the while, no one looks the patient in the eye or touches the skin of the person. The conversation never takes place. The patient is cared for by the means of machines and meds. It is said that the new surgeries are performed with speed by the former whiz kids of the Nintendo games. Machines have the ability to give the averages but it is the human contact that gives knowledge of individual cases.
Last year, the Google company offered a million dollars each for ten new, simple ideas that would change the world for the good of humanity. Well, after months, of delay because they received so many ideas, the top 15 ideas were finally announced and frankly, it was very disappointing. I understood the goal to be simple, inexpensive and universally easy to apply. Something in the order of a net around the bed at night to save millions from malaria or local banks loaning money to women to start businesses in third world countries. Instead, there were endless ideas about how satellites and computers will link the world about shared ideas or news. Not one of the finial ideas were free from modern machines. Recently, there was an article about the emotional immaturity of the heads of Google and I knew what it was all about.
This whole shift of interpersonal contact though machines is creating a generation that emails, cell phones and text messages but is in the process is losing the ability to read a face, understand an emotion and have empathy with another human being. If this is not developed in this generation, what will be the emotional state of the future?
If the eyes are the mirror of the soul, the touch an expression of concern and love maybe we all have to rethink the use of our machines.
Now in a Doctor's office there are those that are typing away while asking questions about your health even the Doctor is part of this new system. It is reported that in hospitals that a team of interns move from room to room updating the reports on the computer, order new tests and check the meds that are on the chart all saved on the laptop. All the while, no one looks the patient in the eye or touches the skin of the person. The conversation never takes place. The patient is cared for by the means of machines and meds. It is said that the new surgeries are performed with speed by the former whiz kids of the Nintendo games. Machines have the ability to give the averages but it is the human contact that gives knowledge of individual cases.
Last year, the Google company offered a million dollars each for ten new, simple ideas that would change the world for the good of humanity. Well, after months, of delay because they received so many ideas, the top 15 ideas were finally announced and frankly, it was very disappointing. I understood the goal to be simple, inexpensive and universally easy to apply. Something in the order of a net around the bed at night to save millions from malaria or local banks loaning money to women to start businesses in third world countries. Instead, there were endless ideas about how satellites and computers will link the world about shared ideas or news. Not one of the finial ideas were free from modern machines. Recently, there was an article about the emotional immaturity of the heads of Google and I knew what it was all about.
This whole shift of interpersonal contact though machines is creating a generation that emails, cell phones and text messages but is in the process is losing the ability to read a face, understand an emotion and have empathy with another human being. If this is not developed in this generation, what will be the emotional state of the future?
If the eyes are the mirror of the soul, the touch an expression of concern and love maybe we all have to rethink the use of our machines.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Alhambra and the pig
Those two words represent the opposite in culture but both are key to understanding Spain.
I am reading a food/travel book by John Barlow, EVERYTHING BUT THE SQUEAL. He is a good, interesting writer but I get the feeling that he needs to pick a subject because his wife wants to live at home in the area of Galicia, northern Spain. The topic is eating while traveling Galicia. Barlow has a Ph.D. and has been a college professor but in this book the object of his travels is the consumption of eating very part of the pig. He travels involve regions that most people would ignore even if time allowed for it.
This opening food fest is that of a national dish I never heard of called cocido. It is cooked for special occasion mostly in the cold winter months. After a little research on the computer, I knew this for one for me!
I went to a local butcher shop and got all the required bones, cuts of meat and produced the hearty soup yesterday. It is a wonderful peasant dish loaded with favor and impossible to make in small quantities, so it was great that Phil has a visitor and we all enjoyed it with crusty bread. Some version of this soup will become my new winter soup. The authentic recipe that I made yesterday was good for me to experience and now I understand the principles of it, I can make it for just John and me.
The importance of the pig in Spanish cooking is related to both the climate of the north and the religions of the country. Pigs eat the same diet as humans, green leafing plants and root and bulbs. This diet is best obtained in forests and rainy area of the earth. They do not have the four stomachs of cows, goats and sheep which can be penned up at night and continue to chew of the day's forgings.
The period of Moorish rule in Spain which produced the Alhambra, one of the new wonders of the world, shows the high degree of culture and sophistication of lifestyle that was enjoyed during the period. There is a quietness and simplicity that is eloquent with Moorish design that I find very attractive. I remember walking around the complex of buildings and gardens and thinking I could live here, it is built for human scale. The simplicity is really complex tile work, lattice carving and watering systems of great engineering for drinking water and gardens. The Moors that ruled lived in harmony with both the Christians and the Jews at the time and evidences of this is at the Alhambra.
In 1492 at that location, history tells two historical events took place. An Italian sailor met with Queen Isabella and in the small quiet corner room she agreed to finance his dreams of find a new route to India. Standing in the room, I have an overwhelming sense of history, unlike many I have had.
The second important event in that year was the decision by the Christian King and Queen to drive out the Moors and the Jews from Spain. This is way the love of pork comes in.
To prove that one was not a Muslim or a Jew, people watched each other to see if they ate any pork. The population of Spain become pork eaters to save their lives and families.
I am reading a food/travel book by John Barlow, EVERYTHING BUT THE SQUEAL. He is a good, interesting writer but I get the feeling that he needs to pick a subject because his wife wants to live at home in the area of Galicia, northern Spain. The topic is eating while traveling Galicia. Barlow has a Ph.D. and has been a college professor but in this book the object of his travels is the consumption of eating very part of the pig. He travels involve regions that most people would ignore even if time allowed for it.
This opening food fest is that of a national dish I never heard of called cocido. It is cooked for special occasion mostly in the cold winter months. After a little research on the computer, I knew this for one for me!
I went to a local butcher shop and got all the required bones, cuts of meat and produced the hearty soup yesterday. It is a wonderful peasant dish loaded with favor and impossible to make in small quantities, so it was great that Phil has a visitor and we all enjoyed it with crusty bread. Some version of this soup will become my new winter soup. The authentic recipe that I made yesterday was good for me to experience and now I understand the principles of it, I can make it for just John and me.
The importance of the pig in Spanish cooking is related to both the climate of the north and the religions of the country. Pigs eat the same diet as humans, green leafing plants and root and bulbs. This diet is best obtained in forests and rainy area of the earth. They do not have the four stomachs of cows, goats and sheep which can be penned up at night and continue to chew of the day's forgings.
The period of Moorish rule in Spain which produced the Alhambra, one of the new wonders of the world, shows the high degree of culture and sophistication of lifestyle that was enjoyed during the period. There is a quietness and simplicity that is eloquent with Moorish design that I find very attractive. I remember walking around the complex of buildings and gardens and thinking I could live here, it is built for human scale. The simplicity is really complex tile work, lattice carving and watering systems of great engineering for drinking water and gardens. The Moors that ruled lived in harmony with both the Christians and the Jews at the time and evidences of this is at the Alhambra.
In 1492 at that location, history tells two historical events took place. An Italian sailor met with Queen Isabella and in the small quiet corner room she agreed to finance his dreams of find a new route to India. Standing in the room, I have an overwhelming sense of history, unlike many I have had.
The second important event in that year was the decision by the Christian King and Queen to drive out the Moors and the Jews from Spain. This is way the love of pork comes in.
To prove that one was not a Muslim or a Jew, people watched each other to see if they ate any pork. The population of Spain become pork eaters to save their lives and families.
Friday, October 9, 2009
snail and their slime
Well, we all woke to the surprise of the new Nobel Peace Prize news including the man that won. I double checked two sites to see if it was true.
Is this America anymore? Do people want their own president to fail, to lose and to be humbled on the world stage? What is in the soul of these snails? The vile comments about this prize are telling of snail slime.
Obama made it clear that the world has to address issues of climate change, terrorism, AIDS, world poverty and peace. He wants corporation between all the nations working together. He is a sign of change in policy from the last eight years. They probably awarded him the prize because he's taken on the most thankless job imaginable. In office 10 months and has already been held accountable for at least 8 years of reckless incompetence.
Maybe there is more slime sickness in this nation and on a day like today it is explored to the light.
Is this America anymore? Do people want their own president to fail, to lose and to be humbled on the world stage? What is in the soul of these snails? The vile comments about this prize are telling of snail slime.
Obama made it clear that the world has to address issues of climate change, terrorism, AIDS, world poverty and peace. He wants corporation between all the nations working together. He is a sign of change in policy from the last eight years. They probably awarded him the prize because he's taken on the most thankless job imaginable. In office 10 months and has already been held accountable for at least 8 years of reckless incompetence.
Maybe there is more slime sickness in this nation and on a day like today it is explored to the light.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
calendars and saints
When I was a child no one bought calendars they were free from merchants and the local parish. The whole industry of beautiful calendars with themes is growing and wasteful use of paper.
My family had one calendar in the kitchen near the phone and it was the Catholic parish calendar while I was growing up. It did include the phases of the moon, maybe even the sunrise and sunset times for the farmers in the community but mainly it was for all of to be reminded of the religious year. It marked the holy days, the moving feast days and fasting days of the church. By far, the most interesting part of the calendar for me was the names of the daily saints. The majority of them were of Medieval times and were Italian or at less it looked like Italian names to me. Images of people in long robes with veils or long beards enter my mind as I recall the nuns tells us of these saints.
I would like to modernize this practice and offer a calendar of real saints that live today, that walk among us and live with joy making the hard decisions to do the right things. They don't abandon the people that are difficult in their lives, they don't short change needs of children or old people. They take a deep breathe and get up and do the calming thing because of their core being. These people some times smoke, sometimes they booze too much and sometimes they make big mistakes in their lives. These saints in my calendar have lived life long enough to experiences some of the exceptions to the rules and have forgiven others and themselves.
It is only the young that know all the rules, the old know all the exceptions to the rules.
I would have special months for different categorizes of saints. I would take nominations each year and they would have to be the living. Dead people have it easy, they may whisper in our ear but they are not facing the choices anymore.
No one in the business of sainthood, mainly, religious organizations could put forward names for my calendar. That would feel like too much of the inside job for me. I want big famous names that put themselves on the line for the less among us and the unfamiliar names that act heroic while no one is observing them.
We all know the saints in our lives and we can all make up our calendar.
My family had one calendar in the kitchen near the phone and it was the Catholic parish calendar while I was growing up. It did include the phases of the moon, maybe even the sunrise and sunset times for the farmers in the community but mainly it was for all of to be reminded of the religious year. It marked the holy days, the moving feast days and fasting days of the church. By far, the most interesting part of the calendar for me was the names of the daily saints. The majority of them were of Medieval times and were Italian or at less it looked like Italian names to me. Images of people in long robes with veils or long beards enter my mind as I recall the nuns tells us of these saints.
I would like to modernize this practice and offer a calendar of real saints that live today, that walk among us and live with joy making the hard decisions to do the right things. They don't abandon the people that are difficult in their lives, they don't short change needs of children or old people. They take a deep breathe and get up and do the calming thing because of their core being. These people some times smoke, sometimes they booze too much and sometimes they make big mistakes in their lives. These saints in my calendar have lived life long enough to experiences some of the exceptions to the rules and have forgiven others and themselves.
It is only the young that know all the rules, the old know all the exceptions to the rules.
I would have special months for different categorizes of saints. I would take nominations each year and they would have to be the living. Dead people have it easy, they may whisper in our ear but they are not facing the choices anymore.
No one in the business of sainthood, mainly, religious organizations could put forward names for my calendar. That would feel like too much of the inside job for me. I want big famous names that put themselves on the line for the less among us and the unfamiliar names that act heroic while no one is observing them.
We all know the saints in our lives and we can all make up our calendar.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Just keep the tango going
That is how the article ended in the NYT about Alzheimer. I have personally adopted the 'one day at a time' idea but the dance imagery is equally good. I can not wrap my mind around the future and how the slow descend into nothingness will happen to John.
He reminds me, that I forgot to tell him about the children coming over or the purpose of having a small juice glass on the table or the location of his barber. John forgets his swimming shoes at the Y ... his lock at home for the Y or... where he put the bag, towel and his swimming suit before he leaves for the Y. The best, and I do smile, is when he thanks me, for putting his bag near the door for him, forgetting that he did that!
We do use a sheet of paper for some information if I have answered the question five times within the hour. I tell him he has to look at the paper for the answer. Newness, break from routine are hard on John. That is why five times a week swimming has worked so well for him, the routine has been there for three years. Mowing the grass, unloading the dishwasher, walking Daisy all activities of established routine. Sweeping the back patio would produce many questions or using the vacuum cleaner is too confusing most of the time.
John is a very good sleeper and personally very clean along with a pleasant personality so living with him is relatively easy.
John and I found a comfortable resting place with each other all the years we have been together and that has not changed. We continue the tango.
He reminds me, that I forgot to tell him about the children coming over or the purpose of having a small juice glass on the table or the location of his barber. John forgets his swimming shoes at the Y ... his lock at home for the Y or... where he put the bag, towel and his swimming suit before he leaves for the Y. The best, and I do smile, is when he thanks me, for putting his bag near the door for him, forgetting that he did that!
We do use a sheet of paper for some information if I have answered the question five times within the hour. I tell him he has to look at the paper for the answer. Newness, break from routine are hard on John. That is why five times a week swimming has worked so well for him, the routine has been there for three years. Mowing the grass, unloading the dishwasher, walking Daisy all activities of established routine. Sweeping the back patio would produce many questions or using the vacuum cleaner is too confusing most of the time.
John is a very good sleeper and personally very clean along with a pleasant personality so living with him is relatively easy.
John and I found a comfortable resting place with each other all the years we have been together and that has not changed. We continue the tango.
Friday, October 2, 2009
rambling thoughts
When I am not worried about the crisis of the economy or the absolute black hole of the future of this world, I enjoy the simple pleasures of things.
The wonderful truth that my grandchildren are capable of telling. The other day they were relating the surprise trip, planned by their father, to a bakery before school. Ahman's blueberry roll, "was awesome" and Mira matter of fact told me that her mother doesn't enjoy the bakery or hamburgers but the three of them do.
The peace of sitting in the late afternoon warm sunlight with John. We watch the chickens have an half hour of total freedom in the yard, my spirit is as free of theirs at these moments. Daisy sits at our feet, we have our glass of wine and discuss the little jobs that we did that day and plans for the next day.
The miracle of growing seeds never fails to amaze me. Partly, because I am good at it and partly because it is the essence of life. The planting of my orchard six years ago has proven to be rewarding in a bounty this year. It is said that young people plant a garden and older people plant trees. Of course, it makes sense, older people own property and have decided where home is. Only after age forty-five did I plant a fruit tree.
One of the joys of living in today's world is the computer and the knowledge that is at my fingertips. I wonder if I had this available as a child how different my life would have turned out. The whole world is there is learn about, questions answered and no matter what parents, school or local custom say, an individual can compare thoughts. The distance between love ones is not an issue as in past generations by way of this machine. I value my computer more than any electric item I have.
The sense of taste is more valuable to me as I age. The sweetness the sun gives to fruit, the taste of roasted spices and fresh herbs from the garden in the simplest dish and the favor of butter or fat are taken with gratitude at my age.
When I was in my mid life, I thought, people of my age now as old and probably have less intensity about thinking, doing or living life. I think aging has taught me that the outside physical body changes but the inside is ageless. In fact, as I age I am finding the core of my being and possibly my grace. I finally have the time to reflect and understand many things.
The wonderful truth that my grandchildren are capable of telling. The other day they were relating the surprise trip, planned by their father, to a bakery before school. Ahman's blueberry roll, "was awesome" and Mira matter of fact told me that her mother doesn't enjoy the bakery or hamburgers but the three of them do.
The peace of sitting in the late afternoon warm sunlight with John. We watch the chickens have an half hour of total freedom in the yard, my spirit is as free of theirs at these moments. Daisy sits at our feet, we have our glass of wine and discuss the little jobs that we did that day and plans for the next day.
The miracle of growing seeds never fails to amaze me. Partly, because I am good at it and partly because it is the essence of life. The planting of my orchard six years ago has proven to be rewarding in a bounty this year. It is said that young people plant a garden and older people plant trees. Of course, it makes sense, older people own property and have decided where home is. Only after age forty-five did I plant a fruit tree.
One of the joys of living in today's world is the computer and the knowledge that is at my fingertips. I wonder if I had this available as a child how different my life would have turned out. The whole world is there is learn about, questions answered and no matter what parents, school or local custom say, an individual can compare thoughts. The distance between love ones is not an issue as in past generations by way of this machine. I value my computer more than any electric item I have.
The sense of taste is more valuable to me as I age. The sweetness the sun gives to fruit, the taste of roasted spices and fresh herbs from the garden in the simplest dish and the favor of butter or fat are taken with gratitude at my age.
When I was in my mid life, I thought, people of my age now as old and probably have less intensity about thinking, doing or living life. I think aging has taught me that the outside physical body changes but the inside is ageless. In fact, as I age I am finding the core of my being and possibly my grace. I finally have the time to reflect and understand many things.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)