Take me Home...

One of the best things about country roads is the surprises they hold. And in the summer especially, they make no secret about their magic- the wildflowers nod along their shoulders, the sweet churches appear around their curves, the cows doze in the shade of the trees that are left in surrounding fields like gifts. They are wondrous in their beauty- mostly because they seem so oblivious to it. We always exclaim at how one could choose nearly any three turns off of the highway and wind up somewhere that takes our breath away.

But, yesterday we had a mission. Casey and I were going to visit the most honorable Hyla Brook Farm- home of native Virginia plant landscaping. They are open only once a month, when they have demonstrations. Yesterday was the Perenial Propagation open house- we were both free, and off we went. We arrived to a bunch of people standing around a table, moving soil around. I don't know what we expected, maybe a lecture? A tour? Noooo- this was even better. So, like kids in a candy store, (or maybe more like pigs in mud), we elbowed our way through to the table and started stirring. We cut and rooted three different kinds of asters, goldenrod, and monarda (the one Earl Grey Tea comes from). We divided a groundcover called Green and Gold, and sowed seeds for coreopsis, echinacea, and campanula. We got to keep them all!! I think I was actually dancing I was so excited. (Plus, I only cut myself once.)

Anyway, here's to country roads and their many gifts. And to Casey, who is willing to drive them.

One good (wo)man

After a long chat with Erin last night about my lack of postings- here it is. This strays from the farm animal and vegetable theme but may touch on the wilderness bit. Sort of the wilderness of the soul of America right now - I (and I guess many of you) have been deeply disturbed by the administration's carte blanche use of torture in the "war on terror." After all the founding father reading done at SJC and law school, constitutional law and human rights are what I have always felt are the cornerstone of our country. Sadly, we (read the gov't) have given certain individuals the OK to treat human beings in a manner that defies our own laws - - it is most disturbing to hear about things done in the name of freedom that would in other times (and even now if done by another country's gov't) qualify the victim to seek political asylum. Not making too much sense, I know, but if anyone is interested I can give a tutorial some other time about what qualifies people to be granted political asylum. Point being, I have been feeling discouraged about humanity and most particularly the stark political divisions in the America. Surely not everyone who is "conservative" is behind this treatment! Surely it is not patriotic to support it or even ignore it! So, I was more than uplifted to read this opinion piece on WP today. I encourage you all to check it out. It has renewed some faith that our structure of government, based on the theory of one good (wo)man, may survive and this may again be a place where the rights of all are upheld, where we treat each person as valued, with a voice, a vote, and a dream (without which it wouldn't be America, huh?). So ladies and gents, as Jefferson encouraged each decade, it is time for a change in course, a revolution of humanity, a push for renewed democracy! I guess I should have posted this closer to the 4th of July! Yours truly, giddy with patriotic fervor

My Freak Flag (Part 37)

So, I just watched the most lovely film ever called The Price of Milk, and I had to explain a little before I put it on the recommended film list because the title makes it sound like it is a Fast Food Nation kind of film. (FFN was terrible- Avril Lavigne and Ethan Hawke tryin' to tell me what to do? C'mon...) But, really The Price of Milk is a (fairy tale) allegory about love AND farm animals- (and KT- just for the record, it is not love WITH farm animals...)

Determining Wildness

I am working on my last paper, (at least for a while), and I can't say I am not ready for a break. I swear I have sustained a typing injury- and I think my right forearm muscles have grown slightly larger than my left, not to mention I am super restless and (can you tell?) slightly whiny. I am dragging my feet in my work, though I do (in theory ) find the subject fascinating. It is this: that our creation story introduced the world in terms of polarities- right/ wrong, obedience/ freedom, man/ woman, good/ evil, nature/ civilization- even dominion/stewardship. In order to transcend this dualistic thought, a third idea must be born. One plus one equals three.

So, I love the books- these quotes are from 'Uncommon Ground', the result of an academic seminar on the state of the environment, attended by scientists and literary types alike. Good stuff. These are from an essay called "The Trouble with Wilderness" by William Cronon.

“This, then, is the central paradox: wilderness embodies a dualistic vision in which the human is entirely outside the natural. If we allow ourselves to believe that nature, to be true, must also be wild, then our very presence in nature represents its fall. The place where we are is the place where nature is not. If this is so- if by definition wilderness leaves no place for human beings, save perhaps as contemplative sojourners enjoying their leisurely reverie in God’s natural cathedral- then also by definition it can offer no solution the environmental and other problems that confront us. To the extent that we celebrate wilderness as the measure with which we judge civilization, we reproduce the dualism that sets humanity and nature at opposite poles. We thereby leave ourselves little hope of discovering what an ethical, sustainable, honorable, human place in nature might actually look like."

“Learning to honor the wild- learning to remember and acknowledge the autonomy of the other- means striving for critical self consciousness in all of our actions. It means deep reflection and respect must accompany each act of use, and means too that we must always consider the possibility of non- use. It means looking at the part of nature we intend to turn toward our own ends and asking whether we can use it again and again and again- sustainably- without its being diminished in the process. It means never imagining that we can flee into a mythical wilderness to escape history and the obligation to take responsibility for our own actions that history inescapably entails. Most of all, it means practicing remembrance and gratitude, for thanksgiving is the simplest and most basic of ways for us to recollect the nature, the culture, and the history that have come together to make the world as we know it. If wildness can stop being (just) out there and start being (also) in here, if it can start being as humane as it is natural, then perhaps we can get on with the unending task of struggling to live rightly in the world- not just in the garden, not just in the wilderness, but in the home that encompasses them both."

You think you are weird...

So, for her birthday, Camilla received two sheep from her husband the prince. Call me crazy, but I am so jealous. Farm animals are definitely the way to this girls heart. And apparently to Camilla's as well- a British paper says: "Camilla is, in fact, absolutely chuffed to bits."

I'd be chuffed too.

We are Weird

Ok, well Sallie already knows this because I had a long conversation with her outlining just how weird I am last night. But this point is watermelon specific. I made that fabulous watermelon salad a few days ago, the exact day that it was posted by our blogmaster, in fact. Well, Ted and I thought it was THE most fantastic thing!! Great recipe. Then my last day of class and we were all supposed to bring it some food to make it celebratory, you know. I was too preoccupied to make something special for my classmates, so at the last minute I grabbed the bowl of watermelon salad and brought it along. One person asked for the recipe but didn't eat anything. (What is that? Her special method of being polite?) The people that ate it said things like, "Oh it's actually good," that kind of thing. I said "I know it's good." I think they felt like they had to like it, but fellow bloggers, I'm here to tell you, the watermelon salad was not a hit. Of an unwatermelon nature, shall we wear our strangeness like high school chidren wear their combat boots and black eyeliner or shall we tuck it neatly away in our sock drawer for a private moment on a cold winter's night?

Distractions

As the front lawn goes the way of green shag carpeting, (or in my case, crispy brown astro- turf), I am considering ripping it all up in favor of native grasses in the front and woodland green in the back. What do you think? That is AFTER school, AFTER I land a fantastic job, and perhaps AFTER I give this place a good scrubbing. Or, in the fall- whichever comes first.

In other, more interesting news, my brother Al opened an online artists' collective called Drip Book- He is so fantastic, and I am oh- so- proud of him. I'll give y'all the address etc. when it is full blown opened.

I, on the other hand, am reading Ishmael by Quinn, and am finding that I have a rather fragile constitution for impending disaster literature. I put the book down two days ago, and am obviously avoiding picking it up again. Egads.

So, as I continue to attempt to distract myself, I wonder if it is a little strange that I find the song 'Stickshifts and Safetybelts' by Cake one of the most romantic songs ever? Really, is there anything sweeter?

I heart watermelon.

So, I kind of thought that I would not post recipes here. But, as with most things I am at one time adamantly against, I have found an exception. Except you won't believe it. It is so good, and so very strange- my favorite combination...

I cannot post exact measurements (not that I follow those anyway) because I had this at a dinner party, but I think it will be good almost no matter what.

Tomato Watermelon Salad (!)

A bunch of red tomatoes, large chopped
One seedless watermelon, large chopped
One red onion, sliced and soaked in the juice of three limes (juice should be added to final salad)
Feta, crumbled
Kalmata olives, whole (pitted)
Basil
Mint

Swoon.

Really, as far as I am concerned, this is the only way to eat watermelon.

That word thing again...

You are right, preventative care is a stupid term. It sounds as though we stand, battle ready, for any disease that is ready to pounce. Really, it should be about maintaining health. We are just not educated on, nor connected with how to maintain our body's health. Our physical (and therefore emotional and spiritual) health is connected to the 'outside world'. Have you ever considered what a sublime act eating is, taking something from the outside, something that was not a part of you, and somehow turning it into a part of you? How intimate that act is, and how for granted we take it. We have stepped outside of maintaining our mere existence- or is it our miraculous existence?

Progress

Also, what is this myth of progress. It seems that we are indoctrinated with a mythos of, "moving forward in time, we are always better off because of our 'advancements' and our newest enchantment with our 'technologies', like a man admires his descendant gonads. but nobody questions this bit of brainwashing except with the occasional romanticizing of some nonexistent past. meanwhile we all suffer as one while Mother Earth is gang raped with our "technologies" and we're all supposed to smile proud. Primitive people can have their dreamtime, but we've all moved past that bit of nonsense into the far more sterile 5th Avenue condo of the Mind. While we drag our now dead bodies around like so many sacks of potatoes. Why would it matter now what we put in it?

And we've built a mountain out of time, so we can always be perched at the pinnacle, staking out our flag of separateness. The incrementation of time was the worst idea of all humanity. Seasons, Yes! Moons, Yes! Solstices and Equinoxes, I'm all for it. But when did it change from a circle to a line? And now, horror of horrors, a grid that I must pack myself into. (Maybe it's just that I'm tired of being late)

Dear friends, I do know that this is terrible cocktail party conversation. I must be driven home.

Argh...

I saw Sicko recently, and afterward my first impulse was to figure out how to pick up and move to another country. Any other country. I was so discouraged by witnessing this piece of American injustice through our own neglect that I thought I'd just have to abandon ship. Then, I realized how much I'd miss my people, and that we all deserve the same rights that will be lost if we just leave. I remembered the words of my precious Avetts, 'When you run, make sure you run to something and not away from, 'cause lies don't need an aeroplane to chase you down.' Not lies I have told, but lies I have believed. Lies I have encouraged through my own disregard for the truth. Admittedly, trips to the grocery store have lately taken on a new learning curve as I am trying to be aware of where my food actually comes from, but I have faith that will get easier with practice. We all know that as Americans, we vote with our dollars. What we choose to spend our money on empowers us and our world more than amorphous policies handed down from government agencies. Which brings us back to Sicko- what are we to do? Half of the group I saw the film with have no health insurance. It only puts them in precarious situations when they, say, have to have an emergency appendectomy, or when they get sick and it is a hassle to find a doctor. But it matters that they do not get preventative care. It matters, specifically as Michael Moore points out because we no longer are taking care of each other. America worships the individual, and yes, I am a lucky American, but we value our own needs over those of others. We care not what we are feeding, teaching or helping each other. Americans are like spoiled party kids, trashing the house because we can with no consequences. I do not even know how to begin to clean it up.

So, in a book by Susan Griffin, I found this:

“If human consciousness can be rejoined not only with the human body but with the body of the earth, what seems incipient in the reunion is the recovery of meaning within existence that will infuse every kind of meeting between self and the universe, even in the most daily acts, with an eros, a palpable love, that is also sacred."

So, for now, I will ponder and hope and be and do, and try to honor this world as an extension of my self and of your self.

A Midsummer's Thanks Giving

Ah... the fourth was so very food exciting. I found myself squealing about each dish to some poor soul, and wound up eating so much that my stomach ached long into the night. It was worth the pain. Casey MADE mozzarella, Ned grilled foccacia, and we just chopped and peeled our way through grilled vegetables, cucumber yogurt soup, a berry crisp, lavender honey ice cream and another attempt by me to solve the shortbread mystery. More food arrived in glorious appreciation of the vibrancy of the season, and together we happily listened to the chirping crickets and waited patiently for the fireworks to begin. Thank you, Freemans for a proper and so very joyful passage into mid-summer.

Now, I must make my way out of this food love haze to class, for which we read Pete Hamill's 'Snow in August'. I didn't adore the book, but I did love the rabbi's edict that "Love is almost always about words." Now, I am not even going to pretend that I understand anything about love, but I do revere the power of words. I have a near visceral reaction to words, so much so that there are some I stubbornly refuse to use. Fortunately, most of these are proper nouns, and so can be easily avoided. Anyway, I thought I'd share a few of my favorite words with you- Roll these around on your tongue, and see what occurs to you. To me, they are gifts, prayers and spells. In English, you can't beat the power of Shazam! In French, aubergine resounds. In Spanish, mariposa undoubtedly has a life of its own. And in Greek, you can feel the depth of logos.