We are just days away from no tomatoes. Just as I was really getting sick of them.
There’s an attitude to surplus, just as there is to scarcity. Maybe we could even call it opposing frequencies.
I’ve known wealthy folk, in my younger days, who refused to eat leftovers, ever, no matter what it was, even lobster or filet mignon. One could almost be convinced of a certain ‘trickle down’ economic theory when in their presence.
While I was really lucky to be friends with them, because I got a lot of free upscale leftovers, I did find that attitude to be wasteful, and was not shy about expressing it.
It behooved me to see all that good food go into the garbage, not even composted. I couldn’t eat all the leftovers created from a weekend lake house party, and there certainly weren’t any livestock to benefit, not even doggie bags.
I think my 2nd favorite thing about having pigs, after the sausage and bacon and ham, is that I feel zero guilt about throwing away our surplus. It’s not throwing it away at all, I’ve come to realize, it’s really more like pre-seasoning our sausage.
So it was interesting to read an article the other day from an author who presented a graph from the “Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) data demonstrating a substantial decrease in household food expenditure as a percentage of income—from 44 percent in 1901 to a mere 9 percent in 2021.”
It was considered a ‘good thing’ according to this graph and this author that food prices had become so negligible in the modern economy.
I’d be willing to bet the farm that the general public agrees with this premise. To have the essentials of life—that is, food and water—as cheap as possible, indeed feels like a good thing. If those are brought to them poisoned is mostly not a thought at all.
Once the essentials are met, as in our modern Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, we can move on to entertainment.
Oh, except for that other pesky thing, energy. Because WiFi and game boys and television aside, we do still NEED our fridges and freezers and air conditioners.
And if you think that’s exaggerated, watch the mass exodus from the South to the North if the World Economic Forum has their way and all those civilizing conveniences disappear before too long. All while we are sweltering down here under the umbrella of ionospheric heaters up there.
But, aside. Let’s get back to the basics. Food and water, even before energy. You already know the feast or famine feeling. I know you do.
Do you give a care when you shower that 5 more minutes will break the bank? Have you ever lived in a situation where you carried all the water you needed for the day?
Do you consider when you buy your groceries that 5 more dollars will break the bank? Have you ever lived in a situation where a few dollars meant dinner or no dinner?
Every technology is a Trojan Horse. From shoes, to language, to music, to roads, to windmills, to combines, to bombs, to telephones, to cybernetics. Every one. Man existed before all of them. Somehow. Not even the ionospheric heaters causing us drought and weather chaos will bring about the extinction of man.
Man, in whatever form, of whatever species we care to classify, is a feature, or a bug, of this ‘solar system’.
Or, maybe I’m wrong, and we will perish like the supposed dinosaurs.
But my sense says, its otherwise. It says we survive in surplus, in scarcity, in love and in hate. We remain under masters, in servitude, and occasionally at some magnificent moments, I imagine, its otherwise.
We survive wars and diseases and lies. We survive pop music and step mothers and manufactured weather.
They say we must thrive, to thrive is to succeed. To succeed is to know progress. To progress IS.
To succeed is to feast. Yet to feast indefinitely, is impossible. It will eventually lead to famine.
Because failure IS the inevitable consequence of success.
Trip to town, so sad. Two machines tried to rip me off and no working humans looked capable of anything.
Don’t load, don’t count, don’t smile. What do ya do?
Hostessing was once a thing, like customer service. I was a really good hostess once, let me assure y’all!
It’s more than charm and service, it’s an art and a craft.
So, it’s no mystery to me why the cats eat with the dogs on our back porch: Good food + Good vibes= Good company.
Being a good hostess is similar to being a good teacher—observation, agility, ingenuity—are higher qualifications than even empathy, discernment and a sense of propriety—all already a challenge for most.
A teacher cannot play the same role as a bouncer, though that is mostly what is required these days.
My greatest failures in the classroom mirror my greatest failures in life. I’d sum them up to a kind of mis-navigation of the cherished Comfort Zone. As an example I offer a brief recap of my worst classroom lesson ever.
It was taken from a book of suggested lessons for EFL/ESL (English as a Foreign/Second) students and it was called: ‘Dog or Wolf?’
These are lessons designed to generate conversation in the target language, so students learn new vocabulary, practice old expressions, participate with one another, and ultimately create a student-centered learning environment. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, occassionally it’s a classroom catastrophe.
This is where the observational and flexibility skills of the teacher can really shine. Or, really, not.
I thought I knew these students well enough to pull it off. NOT!
Was it my mood? My confidence? My lack of fluidity that particular day? I really can’t say, even now, but oh how that failure, just that one day out of how many other lesser failures, who knows, but that particular one has stuck in my craw still 2+decades later.
They were mostly Japanese students, from various cities, all college-aged. The caliber of student willing and able to travel to the desert US to immerse themselves in American life, indoctrination, and university culture. We had a good rapport, they were good students. Their English was at a level I knew they could perform well with the material.
I presented it, gave the requisite handouts, grouped them in fours as per the instructions and posed the preliminary question:
If you could choose, would you choose to be a dog or a wolf?
There were follow-up questions about culture and civilization, surplus vs scarcity, independence and hierarchy. In my mind it generated a brilliant potential conversation and I was looking forward to it.
The question was meant to lead to an exchange between group members who would discuss the merits of their choice, as opposed to the deficiencies of the other option. It was based on the assumption there would be some who would choose dog and others who would choose wolf, for various reasons, creating an atmosphere for debate.
Except all the students agreed on dog at the preliminary question, leaving me standing there with my mouth agape and no further game plan.
I nudged, painfully, at my more philosophical follow-up questions and got crickets. Obviously, everyone would be a dog—comfort, ease, predictability, discipline, training—DUH!
The ‘best’ student, a relatively large young man from Okinawa, who was more bold and out-going than the rest, immediately intuited my dilemma. He raised his hand and said he wanted to change his answer.
But, I was stuck in my own personal baffledom. I tried to go with it, push through, take the ball he’d so generously tossed me and run with it, but I remained, I don’t know, just sort of, stranded there, for way too long a moment.
And then I couldn’t get it back.
Anyone who has never stood in front of a classroom most likely underestimates the skill it takes to be good at it. And when I say good, I don’t just mean popular. And I don’t just mean effective. I mean the kind of good where one can walk the line between popular and effective, because it is impossibly narrow. Those who pull off that level of impossible should be studied and duly rewarded and I’m sure there are more than a few. So, it’s not actually impossibly narrow. Just too narrow for me that day, that lesson.
They should also study bombs like mine that day.
After missing the generous handoff, I was so tongue-tied and disgusted, with it all—them, myself, the lesson—that I dismissed the class early.
The Okinawan student stayed there, obviously to discuss it with me. He wanted to make me feel better about the clear and dismal failure, I think. It was a really sweet gesture and very appreciated, even in the moment, but it didn’t really help me make sense of it all.
Like, why was I so confident that lesson would work? So confident, in fact, that I didn’t even have a Plan B. Bad teacher! So confident, in fact, that I became rigid. And frankly, still feel judgmental of those students (so passive, so acquiescent, so like, totally lame!).
Not really like me. So stuck in my own thinking that it’s not conceivable to me every student would choose dog over wolf that I could not, in fact still feel challenged to, mentally adjust from my misperceptions. Yes, even now.
A room of 30 students and only one wolf, and that one only under pressure, and with a savior complex no less.
What happens in world become so ‘civilized’ we’ve all become obedient dogs? And, obedient to what, and to whom?
Don’t think, don’t fight, don’t roam, what do we do? What happens when man becomes too civilized? Too domesticated? Too content?
I still don’t know what to do with such a muddle. Would you?
Sometimes I look at Handy Hubby and whine, “Please, make it stop!”
Then I think of the shrimp scene in the film Forest Gump—you got your boiled shrimp, your fried shrimp, your grilled shrimp, shrimp creole, your gumbo . . . .
Only with me it’s tomatoes.
In my defense I planted so many tomatoes because last year was not good for tomatoes, so we didn’t can up nearly as much as we wanted and were way short on salsa. The crop burned up so fast, it was pathetic, even though I planted just as many, we got far less.
So this year I was really determined. Decidedly, way too determined.
And, while we do (still!) have a bumper crop, it’s not exactly ideal, because once again, it’s so hot so fast that they are burning and exploding on the vine if I try to let them ripen properly. So, I have to bring them in to ripen, which means I’m really, really sick of looking at them everywhere.
Due to excessive heat we have uneven ripening, sun scald and plants dying while still full of unripened fruit.
But they are good, so, so good! My very favorite way to enjoy them is so simple—sliced and liberally doused with salt and pepper and served with— Everything!
We can chow through a good many this way, and it lasts for just a month or two, which makes our enjoyment all the sweeter.
So garden fresh you can eat them naked!
Then you got your salsas, your chutneys, your marinaras, your tomato soup, your creamed tomato soup, your plain canned, your Rotella style, spicy juice for cocktails, ketchup, barbecue sauce . . .. 😆. Did I miss anything?
And the cucumbers. Oh please, don’t get me started on the cucumbers! How I long for them all winter, and within two months can hardly stand to harvest them any longer.
I purposely planted fewer this spring, planning to stagger them more, for a longer season. In fact, there should not be so many cucumbers at all based on my inputs, and the sad fact that there are NO bees on them. By that I mean our own honey bees are not visiting our garden, though there are two colonies within 75 feet of it.
Speaking of bees, half of my colonies, that’s 3 out of 6, have perished this summer. I’m not surprised when I lose a colony over the winter or early spring, but 3 that were going strong into the summer, this is unheard for me, and super depressing.
I also notice far fewer native bees, and the ones I am seeing are much smaller. The wasps seem to be doing very well, so maybe that’s who is keeping us in bushels of cucumbers at the moment?
And of course we’re offering the surplus to anyone! We give it to neighbors, bring it to gatherings, get the word around that it is available, for free. What we can’t eat or give away goes to the goats and pigs and they need to eat too!
So, when I get the occasional comment that we should sell it at the farmer’s market or somewhere equivalent, I understand the well-meaning at heart. But, what I’m actually self-censoring myself from saying does stray a bit from the habitual and expected smile and nod.
Because what I sometimes hear, though I’m sure was not at all the intentioned meaning is: It’s really not enough that you work your fucking ass off to produce all this fine produce, you should now go out and spend money on gas hauling it to town and suffer through the rules and regulations and pay for a booth and market it to a public who mostly doesn’t give a shit what they eat, and let’s face it, mostly just wants it cheap and convenient. So, don’t just plant it, nurture it, harvest it, sort it, wash it, package it, but now haul it to a market 20+miles away and stand there in the blazing heat all day so you can clear about $30.30 a truckload.
Sounds so awesome! Sign us up! 😳
On a brighter note, here’s something you’ll really like, because the world really does need one more cute kitten video!
Oh and Happy Independence Day y’all, thanks for stopping by!
Will this be the tipping point for the geoengineering discussion? Thank y’all for the comments on the last post, much appreciated. I intend to get to them pronto, it’s just I’ve been a bit under the weather. Irony?
But I couldn’t resist sharing this new one first. I found it to be an informative discussion and RKJ had a few good questions I hadn’t already heard, which is impressive considering I could recite a good portion of Dane’s points.
Not that I’m a fan of RKJ, but he does bring with him a famous name and a large audience, not to mention his contacts in the environmental groups. Maybe this will be the catalyst for these groups to finally take this seriously?
On the other hand, I did find instances where RKJ sounds to me to be dismissive—when he says things to Dane like ‘your story’ and ‘your theory’ —and especially when he says he can’t imagine something staying so hidden for so long.
I actually had a chuckle at that one! Really? Can’t imagine that at all, decades of government secrecy and misinformation never crossed your radar? Hmmm.
RKJ broaches the biggest conspiracy theory . . .for real, or just for fun and profit?
This post is inspired by Alison McDowell’s series, Letters from the Labyrinth.
Attention all Dandelions!
I served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Czech Republic from 1994-1996, returning there in 1998-9 to teach at the Natural Sciences Faculty at Charles University in Prague.
I’ve written often about my experience and consider those years to have been formative on many levels, including that which defines my worldview to the present day.
While I have written often about those years, I have shared almost no criticism about my time there or the Peace Corps as an institution. I wrote a blog with other Returned Peace Corps Volunteers for several years, from which I was unceremoniously deplatformed as soon as I ventured into (unbeknownst to me at the time) the forbidden territory of ‘conspiracy theory’.
The Peace Corps was established in 1961 by John F. Kennedy. “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”
From Wiki: “On March 1, 1961, Kennedy signed Executive Order 10924 that officially started the Peace Corps. Concerned with the growing tide of revolutionary sentiment in the Third World, Kennedy saw the Peace Corps as a means of countering the stereotype of the “Ugly American” and “Yankee imperialism,” especially in the emerging nations of post-colonial Africa and Asia.[28][29] Kennedy appointed his brother-in-law, Sargent Shriver, to be the program’s first director. Shriver fleshed out the organization and his think tank outlined the organization’s goals and set the initial number of volunteers. The Peace Corps began recruiting in July 1962; Bob Hope recorded radio and television announcements hailing the program.”
Globalism, before it was cool.
The organization was in the Czech Republic for only seven years. From the Peace Corps’ ‘legacy booklet’:
“Through the work and contributions of Volunteers, the Peace Corps has emerged as a model of success for efforts to promote sustainable development at the grass-roots level. The Peace Corps, however, is much more than a development agency. Volunteers embody some of America’s most enduring values: optimism, freedom, and opportunity. Volunteers bring these values to communities around the world not to impose them on other people or cultures, but to build the bridges of friendship and understanding that are the foundation of peace among nations.”
A portion of Vaclav Havel’s parting statement to the Peace Corps: “The results of the Peace Corps’ work can be seen throughout the Republic. The Peace Corps assisted in establishing many new libraries, completed more than 100 ecological projects, and gave more than one thousand Czech entrepreneurs the opportunity to gain new business experience.” Prague, 1997
Ambassador Shirley Temple Black attended the official opening of the Peace Corps office in Prague in 1991.
Speaking of Temple-Black: According to Kounalakis, “Her personal and informal style worked well with the new government, made up of formerly imprisoned, hard laboring and human rights Charter 77-signing artists, musicians, actors and a playwright president named Vaclav Havel. Many of those new Czechoslovak political leaders admired their American colleague, President Ronald Reagan, an actor-politician like themselves who expressed in the clearest terms – and to the whole world – their deepest desire for freedom.”
The dissident playwright turned politician, President Vaclav Havel’s wife was also a famous actress. Olga Havlová – Wikipedia
Also from Wiki:
“Havel was born in Prague on 5 October 1936[8] into a wealthy family celebrated in Czechoslovakia for its entrepreneurial and cultural accomplishments. His grandfather, Vácslav Havel, a real estate developer, built a landmark entertainment complex on Prague’s Wenceslas Square. His father, Václav Maria Havel, was the real estate developer behind the suburban Barrandov Terraces, located on the highest point of Prague—next door to which his uncle, Miloš Havel, built one of the largest film studios in Europe.[9] Havel’s mother, Božena Vavrečková,[10] also came from an influential family; her father was a Czechoslovak ambassador and a well-known journalist.
“He was known for his essays, most particularly The Power of the Powerless (1978), in which he described a societal paradigm in which citizens were forced to “live within a lie” under the Communist regime.[19] In describing his role as a dissident, Havel wrote in 1979: “we never decided to become dissidents. We have been transformed into them, without quite knowing how, sometimes we have ended up in prison without precisely knowing how. We simply went ahead and did certain things that we felt we ought to do, and that seemed to us decent to do, nothing more nor less.”[20]
As far as Peace Corps assignments go, I was sometimes rightly chided as having ‘served’ in the “Paris of the Peace Corps.” I did not live in a village in a shack without running water, as is often the stereotype, and sometimes the reality.
I got lucky, very lucky in fact. I was assigned to a brand new school, with a private office, and lived in the vacated 2-bedroom flat of the school’s principal. It even had a private phone.
At the Ambassador’s Residence in Prague, feeling sophisticated. Champagne socialism, free-market capitalism? Who knew, who cared?!
A short time after arriving I was summoned to the state-of-the-art, just being organized, computer room. I had requested an e-mail address. The teacher running the show was excited, thrilled even, to have someone even remotely interested in his very claustrophobic cyber-world.
The enormous room was full of donated equipment, mostly used, monitors and hard-drives and equipment I didn’t recognize were stacked up on every inch of the floor and only he and a handful of others knew how to use it all, or even cared to use any of it.
And new shipments were coming in at a regular clip. He couldn’t keep up with all the offerings.
At the same time, the old Soviet materials were stacked up on the street twice a week to be hauled away by the trash crew. Huge stacks of newspapers, magazines, books, busts, badges, portraits that seemed bottomless in those early days.
“We just traded one Big Brother for another,” one teacher quipped.
I was thrilled to be there. I fully expected to find, as per the slogan, “The toughest job you’ll ever love.” Bring it on, I thought.
But, I was young and naive and idealistic and I didn’t understand bureaucracy. I was dumb enough to think I was supposed to be honest on the seemingly endless ‘ratings forms’ we were required to complete. Instead of spend five minutes giving five stars and glowing reports to any and all activities and instructors like most of my fellows, I actually thought about it, wrote what I thought needed improvement, made suggestions I thought would be helpful.
That got me labeled as a complainer almost immediately, I later learned.
One thing we weren’t supposed to complain about was the vaccine schedule. Even though some volunteers were insisting they were getting sick from it.
However, the Volunteer Handbook was unequivocal. “Also during Staging, you will be given immunizations that are required for overseas travel and for re-entry into the United States. Please do not obtain any immunization before going to Staging. If you are sensitive to any immunizing agents or medications, or have religious reservations concerning the taking of immunizations or medications, you should notify the Office of Medical Services before accepting an invitation to training.”
Other project missions had impressive corporate sponsors, like the English-language essay contest about women’s role in Czech society, organized by Fran Aun, currently a Public Relations professional with such current successes as the trans campaign:
You can pee next to me!
Fran Aun’s efforts in Prague got me noticed. Hmmm, yikes?
Me, so proud, sitting at the table in the middle for our celebratory cruise on the Vltava, because my students dominated the essay contest winning multiple corporate-sponsored prizes, including a new computer for my 1st place winner and a super fancy new copy machine for my school.
The Peace Corps is now hiring for a new position: Climate Financing Support Specialist.
My Report Card for the Agency, according to their own stated goals:
To help the people of such countries and areas in meeting their needs for trained manpower, particularly in meeting the basic needs of those living in the poorest areas of such countries,
And to help promote a better understanding of the American people on the part of the peoples served
And a better understanding of other peoples on the part of the American people.
As for goal number one, I give a C-. I do not consider an essay questioning women’s role in modern society to be more in line with basic needs of the poorest children in orphanages.
As for goal number two, I give a B+. That is, considering the people who were actually served were not those needing to meet basic needs, but those with an American-loving entrepreneurial spirit, that seems ‘fair’, I guess.
As for goal number three, I give an unequivocal F. The only stories that are allowed are those demonstrating our relentless positivity and the plate-spinning and mask juggling and illusions of a thousand other cultures who apparently dream of becoming just like U.S.
What I actually learned in my service from the Czech people, and tried to bring back home to fulfill the 3rd goal was categorical rejected by the current day Peace Corps: suspicion of government, especially volunteering; the critical importance of life skills; self-reliance over government reliance; local aid over foreign aid; and in fact, a good dose of paranoia, which was rampant among the Czechs, and would be wisely adopted by the majority of U.S. in the present times.
The line between entrepreneurs, civil servants, and philanthropists was breached ages ago, and it seems like Americans might be the last to know.
Fellow RPCV TEFL Volunteer, Antonio Lopez, “While I was serving my term as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I was definitely aware that a large scale societal change was under way, and that I was taking part in it. I guess I felt that way because I was a teacher working with teenagers, people who are always in a process of change and seeing the world around them with fresh eyes.”
I’m not sure what to make of it, but I’m sharing this quickie just the same.
A gorgeous day of new life, new moves, and what feels like genuinely natural weather for a change.
First rose, first poppy, first lamb and the kittens come out to play. 🤗
Just a few minutes old and already knows the routine
And, I expect Geoengineering/weather modification has hit the popular charts, at last, yay!
I will admit I thought this very popular channel must be shills of some sort, because they seemed to be completely avoiding the obvious weather warfare for years now.
Be that as it may, they’ve been clueing in more and more lately, and now, I consider their cherry popped. It’s about time! I don’t know what to make of it exactly, but I do believe in the gaming world it means we’ve just leveled up.
I wish I knew how many people have questioned the existence of viruses. Certainly in the last few years that number has jumped significantly thanks to the work of ‘Team No Virus’ and the mountain range of material they have contributed to the debate.
Still, most folks have no idea there is a debate happening at all, unfortunately. I hope I’m wrong! But, even among anti-vaxxers I get the impression that the viral delusion has not yet crossed their radar in any serious way. I get the sense they’ve heard of it, but then dismissed it automatically, because the belief in the existence of deadly pathogenic viruses is so deeply engrained in our culture.
It is a belief so penetrating that folks have even stopped looking for any logic to support it.
“Our own Jake Wynn argues that it wasn’t until the death of President Garfield in 1881 that the American public and physicians began to turn toward germ theory. His slow and painful descent from an assassination attempt was well documented and publicized at the time. Americans read in their daily papers about the lingering and avoidable pain that Garfield suffered from infection. For more than two months the public got continuous updates about the President’s condition, and countervailing voices advocating antiseptic practices grew louder. Garfield, himself a veteran, was (in the words of Jake Wynn) the last victim of Civil War medicine.
The lessons for today are pretty clear, and thankfully the world’s medical community has learned from it. Two-thirds of all deaths in the Civil War came as a result of disease. Knowledge of germ theory now enables organizations like the World Health Organization, or WHO established in 1948, to prevent the hundreds of thousands of deaths from disease seen in the Civil War. Other entities like our own Centers for Disease Control, or CDC, works to prevent the spread of disease both at home and abroad by encouraging international learning and cooperation. The National Institute of Health shares scientific research from around the globe with our own American medical professionals. We here at the National Museum of Civil War Medicine are proud to facilitate this dialogue, and we look forward to continuing it with you when you visit.”
Pretty clear where they stand in this debate. Logical? Hardly. But, what about the other positions?
The popular freedom-loving crowd backs Team RFK, Jr. His take is that germ-theory is still the go-to theory because, well, basically because that’s what his fan club believes. Logic and real science be damned.
The deconstruction of the entire field of virology is in process. And I say good riddance, as it is a pseudoscience. I say this with confidence after reading and listening to now hundreds of hours of material provided by these researchers and available at our fingertips. I stand firmly with Team No Virus until the popularity contest is finally over and logic and reason win over half-truthers and opportunists.
I agree wholeheartedly with the Doctors’ statement:
“It seems obvious to us and, in fact, has been a guiding principle throughout our entire lives that a life based in freedom and integrity must have a solid, factual foundation. In other words, if the foundation is not based on the truth, as best we can see it, our entire lives are based on mistruths and are in danger of collapse at any moment. Imagine building a relationship, a family, a homestead based on love between two people when the reality is that, rather than love, there is distrust, suspicion and even ill will. Sooner or later, that life will collapse into ruins. This is the same with a financial system based on fiat currency, an agricultural system based on inattention to the health of the soil, or a medical system based on anti-scientific medical hypotheses. After careers of examining medical research and theories, and three years of intensive investigation into the question of whether particles or, perhaps better said, entities known as viruses actually exist, it is our clear conclusion that no such particle has ever been shown to exist, let alone cause any disease in plants, animals or people. For us, this conclusion stands as a clear fact. It is also clear that the dramatic events of the past three years, events that have devastated the lives of many people all over the world, are based on this very misconception that so-called pathogenic viruses exist. This misconception has been around for a very long time, and it has led to damaging public health measures, the most notorious being vaccines, which have themselves harmed and killed millions of animals and people during their long and sordid history. —This carnage needs to stop.”
The way I see it is, to look the other way now, because it’s inconvenient, or difficult, or unpopular is to spin our wheels on the pavement of evil.
“Over the past few years, this is exactly what happened to many of us. Powerful forces in society unilaterally decided that many of our highest priorities — feeding ourselves and our families, experiencing social connection, exercising, worshiping and connecting with nature — many of these things vital to our health and even survival — suddenly didn’t matter anymore. There was no negotiation. There was no attempt to figure out how we could all get what we wanted — creative solutions, like the Great Barrington Declaration, were sabotaged and vilified. We were simply told: your priorities are worth sacrificing. And all this over a virus that doesn’t even threaten most people’s lives.”
Another big week on the wee homestead! A real treat this time because we have rare video clips of a swarm moving into one of our bait hives. So cool! We really had lucky timing with that one, after another near miss.
Plus, one little piggy already off to market, more to follow soon. And a much better incubator hatching success.
Mama’s pushing them off, which means their days here are numbered24 chicks from the incubator this time, much better than the 9 from last time
In other news, not so lucky, with the timing all wrong, another tree falls. And still other news, we continue to wait for rain, annoyed and impatient.
Just another day of hazy chemical filth
Best to start with the bad news first. The New Normal manufactured weather continues to rob us of rain while pouring chaos on regions nearby.
It’s not only only ugly, toxic and altering the entire hydrological cycle of the region and beyond, it’s weather warfare! I could spend a lot more posts bitching about it, but I ain’t got time for that.
A friendly young couple and their son came by for one of our piglets and we spent a nice time chatting and it was surprising—as in both unusual and pleasant —to have so much in common with folks who superficially were very different from us — much younger, still working, four children, active church members —yet we could hardly stop yammering on about homesteading life after an hour. And then a good bit more after that!
Each attempt at continuing on with our many chores of the day interrupted by some new spontaneous and urgent topic—and all my favorite ones—bees, goats, gardens, kombucha, even cheese.
And, the young woman looked at me knowingly when I pointed to the disgusting sky and repeated for the thousandth time: ‘Weather warfare!’
She knew! Or at least, she knew I wasn’t crazy for suggesting that. That gives me a lot of hope, because it means we’ve come a long way in the many years I’ve been ranting on about it. She also dared say the not-so-secret buzzword of the decade: “Conspiracy theory.”
So refreshing to listen to these courageous young folks who, when they see the degenerate state of the world around them they don’t send their kids into the state schooling system and cross their fingers hoping for the best, they homeschool knowing, they can do better.
They don’t just whine about inflation, they grow a garden and raise some livestock. They don’t just wait for Jesus to come save them, they become the kind of folks who can save others. Very refreshing indeed—as in—in actual deed.
In the story of poor timing, one of the trees killed during the tornado nearly three years ago and still hung up on a neighboring tree, which the goat kids loved to include in their playtime, finally came down in one of the New Normal ‘storms’ where we get everything in the weather chaos of wind, lightening, extreme temperature shifts, but little to no rain.
Of course, it came down right on Hubby’s fence, freeing the brand new ram to have premature access to the young sheep. We fear unwanted teen pregnancies in our future. ☹️
Before and after:
And our brand new ram, expressly kept separate from our too young for breeding girls has sudden free access. Not good.
Back off, Gaston! Our newest addition, a Dorper, to add to our St. Croix flock. A little too soon for comfort. Sheep, unlike most goats, will breed year-round. Keeping critters separated to avoid breeding is our biggest challenge, like most homesteaders.
During our visit with the young couple we pointed out the open-air bee colony, which I still thought was an open-air colony at the time. It was there for well over a week—we checked on it every day.
I had no idea a swarm would stay that long in search of a new home. But then, within just a couple of hours, big things started to happen.
That huge swarm, which I wrote about last week, disappeared, along with the smaller one on the same tree. I actually thought I heard it while watering in the garden, but I never saw anything.
The easiest swarm capture ever! At shoulder height, cast off from the top-bar hive you can see here just beneath the swarm with the white roof.
And then, the swarm we’d just caught earlier (pictured above) that morning and tenderly transferred into a Langstroth hive and put in a location far from the swarm and originating hive, then started to swarm again. *(Why would you prefer your bees to swarm?! See below!)*
I was just frustrated, I saw it happening! Hubby had put on his veil to come help re-situate the frames on the Langstroth but they were already in air. It was an amazing sight to behold, but I didn’t think for a second they’d stop again so nearby.
I yelled to Hubby not to bother to put on his suit, but to bring the tablet instead. The swarm stalled above the garden and Hubby said, between my sighs of disappointment, “Try to follow them!”
I thought it sounded crazy at first, but then thought, why not. And to my absolute astonishment, they stopped at the bait hive that Hubby built for populating our top-bar hives!
That is the second time a swarm has refused my attempts at populating this store-bought conventional beekeeping hive, the Langstroth. But why?
We captured a couple of short clips of the capture—it all happened in about 10 minutes, tops.
It’s so amazing to watch them pile into the entrance, until finally, all are ensconced and occupied with repopulation.
Happy in their tiny house!
It is so fascinating to me to imagine all the social dynamics that went into the decision of that swarm in that short time to move from my preferred space, to their preferred space 150 feet away, communicating in ways far beyond the powers of man.
Luckily, our efforts are all not for nothing! The bees traveled right over the garden where I hope they’ll be spending a lot of time very soon. The garlic is flowering too soon, no surprise in the Yo-Yo weather. The onions are starting to bulb already, but that doesn’t mean we won’t still get a good crop.
Our new dog, Shadow, continues to bring smiles and joy as he gets ever more comfortable in his surroundings.
Thanks for stopping by, Bye!
*Bee swarms, more info for the interested* For those embarking on treatment-free beekeeping, we are the ‘anti-vaxxers’ of the beekeeping community. Swarming is a natural and healthy process of established bee colonies. Interrupting this process by taking ‘splits’ on hives in spring is the preferred industrial/commercial method. However, for the hobbyist, conservationist and connoisseur it is known that it is better to trust the bees and to limit synthetic intrusion on their natural processes. The bees have chosen their swarm companions, not me, as in a typical split. They have chosen their queen, not me, as is the case in typical industrial methods. The swarming process is not only genetic, but also hygienic. When honey production is not the primary aim, it is amazing what we can learn about natural bee behavior. 😊
Feel free to ask questions or share comments on the bees, or any of the other things!
I understand it’s different for everyone. Not only that, but it’s different for any one individual in different times and at different stages in life.
What’s considered a high quality of life at age 19, differs greatly from one of 49. Or at least, we can hold out hope.
As one example, in the past I said I wouldn’t ever want livestock beyond chickens, for a couple reasons that seemed very significant to me at the time—I was scared of the responsibility of life and death for these precious creatures, and I didn’t want to feel ‘a prisoner’ here.
Now I am fully on board with the responsibility, and I can rarely whip up a desire to leave our wee compound. My notion of who is the actual prisoner has shifted significantly.
When I hear criticisms—and there are plenty—aimed at the growing number of homesteaders, survivalists, preppers, back-to-the-landers, I’m not bothered. They can slur us with their derogatory terms like Luddites, subsistence farmers, backwards, selfish, hoarder, bitter clinger, extremist, even, violent extremist.
They don’t know. How could they? I can forgive them their ignorance. For as long as I believe it to be genuine ignorance. Those who are genuinely ignorant are thankful when presented with an opportunity to learn.
“There is a cult of ignorance in the United States [that] has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that “my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge.” – ~Isaac Asimov
My definition of a high quality of life changed significantly over time, and I can hold out hope for them as well.
That is, until their powerless slurs become serious impediments. My choice of a quality lifestyle does not harm them in any way. However, their definition of one severely hampers mine which, over time, makes mine quite impossible.
And that really pisses me off.
Their quenchless thirst for cheap thrills and consumable crap and loot, plunder and pillage of all that’s precious to me is intolerable. More specifically, the tolerance of the majority for abuse of themselves, their environment, the future generations, is outrageous and inexcusable.
“The fecundity and flourishing diversity of the North American continent led the earliest European explorers to speak of this terrain as a primeval and unsettled wilderness—yet this continent had been continuously inhabited by human cultures for at least ten thousand years. That indigenous peoples can have gathered, hunted, fished, and settled these lands for such a tremendous span of time without severely degrading the continent’s wild integrity readily confounds the notion that humans are innately bound to ravage their earthly surroundings. In a few centuries of European settlement, however, much of the native abundance of this continet has been lost—its broad animal population decimated, its many-voiced forests over cut and its prairies overgrazed, its rich soils depleted, its tumbling clear waters now undrinkable.” (The Spell of the Sensuous by David Abram, p. 94)
Unforgettably Unforgivable
While our personal definitions concerning quality of life is unique to the individual and may shift, even quite considerably, over a lifetime, there remain constants.
For example, I doubt there’s a significant number of folks whose idea of a high quality of life includes having their health, wealth or well-being routinely stolen from them.
Yet, we are living in a society where that is exactly what happens and few will lift even a pinkie finger to change it. Few can be bothered even to wag their tongue for one-half minute at the proper authorities for leading them to exactly that wretched level of life: A life fully resigned to blindly accepting the experts and authorities who routinely betray them.
Invariably at some point these folks become so numerous and so delusional and so negatively impactful, that one simply must turn their back on them, for one’s own sanity and the well-being of an entire culture.
I hear far too often how ‘good’ people are just trying to get by and they are powerless against the system and they mean well and on and on and on. Here’s what I sincerely think when I hear these constant excuses: “You don’t know what ‘good’ means!”
If the majority of folks were good, we would not be in this mess!
To not be evil, to not be actively committing evil acts, does not make someone good. It makes one not evil, that is all. There’s a big, long, wide gap between not evil, and good.
Contrary to popular opinion, harmless does not equal good!
This becomes even more apparent in a society where a tiny class of untouchable elites consider themselves to be beyond good and evil.
To be good in such a system requires something of you. It’s not your automatic birthright.
You cannot be serving such a system— one that maintains itself by destroying the health, wealth, well-being and environment of the vast majority in order to serve your own self-interest or that of your corrupted masters—- and still call yourself good.
As the interpretation of reality by the power structure, ideology is always subordinated ultimately to the interests of the structure. Therefore, it has a natural tendency to disengage itself from reality, to create a world of appearances, to become ritual.
Vaclav Havel — The Power of the Powerless
And you can’t call your friends, family, government, society ‘good’ if serving the corrupt system is still what they are doing.
Well, we are having some of the best weather we’ve had in ages. As much as I’m enjoying it, I know the Geoengineering/Weather Modification/Weather Warfare wages on worldwide.
So, the updates.
The United Nations wants to regulate Geoengineering, suddenly, as they continue to pretend it hasn’t been going on for decades.
According to one new report:
“Up to 40% of Americans believe this theory to be ‘‘some- what true’’, which has influenced social attitudes about climate policy, and geoengineering.(25) On climate change, there is growing evidence of a ‘‘spillover’’ effect that leverages local conflict/contro- versies to cascade controversies in order to shift a policy agenda deliberately(28–30), similar to conventional agenda-setting. In this paper, we expand on the conceptual application of the ‘‘spillover effect’’ to evaluate conspiracy theories across geopolitical boundaries and their agenda-setting impact on public emotions and online toxicity perceptions of SG research. This paper is distinct from previous studies critiquing SG governance challenges and their associated controversies related to climate action, on which there is already a rich literature,(3,4,6,7,16,25,31–33) including social media mining-based SG conspiracy analysis.25 One apparent gap in Tingley and Wagner’s (25) study is that the authors had a narrow focus on the ‘‘chemtrails’’ conspiracy theory in their searches for data collection. Therefore, they could not measure any spillover effect from other conspiracy theories in geoengineering debates. This study uses digital data from social media to capture cross-sectional variation in public emotions.”
What is the concern of this study? Hate speech on Twitter concerning Chemtrails conspiracy theory. Lots of “fucks” are being given, quite literally.
I’m so glad to hear that, I didn’t realize how many actually know and care! In combination with the spectacular weather here, I’m feeling downright hopeful.
INTRODUCTION “As the calls for climate action intensify, (1,2) climate engineering technologies, in particular solar radiation management (SRM), have received increasing attention, and public controversy has ensued. SRM includes technologies such as space-based shields, stratospheric aerosols, cirrus cloud thinning, marine cloud brightening, and increasing surface albedo.3–5 While the broader conception of geoengineering may also include greenhouse gas removal options (such as large-scale afforestation or direct air capture and storage), most geoengineering debates focus on ‘‘solar geoengineering (SG)’’, often referred to as solar radiation management or solar radiation modification (SRM).”
I was also happy to see Corbet Report continuing some coverage on the topic in their latest New World Next Week program, instead of following suit of the vast majority of ‘alt’ media in talking about one chemical spill rather than the incessant chemical dispersions in our skies on a regular basis.
