As you may have gathered, I am a latecomer to the computer world. (hence the bold type on the last post. I really didn't mean for that to happen) For some time now I have been trying to get this blog to accept comments. All of the obvious steps have been taken, this problem should not be a problem - and yet it is. I think I must go deep into the Html code that supports this enterprise to resolve the issue. I wish I could ask you, dear reader for your advice - but, this blog does not seem to accept comments. The fact that I have even peered into the Html code - something I don't even know what the initials stand for - should strike fear into all of our hearts. If the Internet collapses suddenly......

Do Not Go Gentle

It has been a cold winter, with much more snow than we have become accustomed to. But it had not been one of our coldest nights. In the morning the snow was fresh and white. My eyes, narrowing against the brightness of the day, immediately were drawn to a glistening refuge of black. As I walked down the stairs my brain struggled to assemble the darkness into meaning. It was not until I was almost upon it that its form became understandable. I saw the cold glittering eye, the hairlike feathers gathered at the base of its beak. The crow's wings were not fully extended, but rather crooked, as if it were in mid dive and the force of rushing air was too great to permit complete extension. It was only

as I squatted beside it and saw the still,

half-clutch of its feet that I knew for certain it was dead.

I looked up into the Spruce above us, trying to imagine the bird's last perch. There was no branch that looked more likely than another. Each would have given protection against the snow. I wondered if it had spent a cold solitary night, without the comforting pressure of a companion, or if only in its falling was it single. I felt very alone, there, squatted next to a dead bird in the middle of a city. Although my wife was only moments behind me and cars hissed by on the boulevard, it seemed isolation was the only realistic sentiment. Still, I didn't move, I stayed to gaze at the metallic sheen of crow feathers, and to note the dull black of its lizard feet. Its eyes seemed yet to mimic the shimmering, mirror-like quality they held in life. Looking up again at the tree and then down, at the bird with its wings half spread, its breast cradled in the snow; I realized that the last action of its life had been flight.

Twenty minutes later I pulled into the parking lot at work. One pair of bootprints preceded mine to the front door. Alongside them, clearly marked on the fresh snow of the sidewalk, was the straightline track of a red fox. I knelt down again, noting how the fox had almost exactly superimposed the print of its hind foot onto its front, leaving the impression that it too, needed only two feet to navigate the streets of the city. I looked around at our neighborhood, its grey industrial shoulders covered by a mantle of snow. A truck rushed by.

Smiling, at the frozen reminders of a fox and a bird.

Damn, I just wanted to talk about crop rotations. But a friend said the other day, when I told him about the miles of fence being built on the Mexican Border, he said: "they're really doing that?" 

Like, maybe it's some thing that's not really happening.

But, Yeah.  We're building a fence. 

It's the same thing for me with GMO's - Genetically Modified Organisms. 

And so I forget. It slips my mind. But I need to bear witness, even to myself, I need to remember: The law does not require a company to tell us if their food has been created from the DNA of another plant or creature. In our law all corn is the same corn, whether made in the laboratory or in the field. Perhaps there is a place for genetic engineering - you would be surprised to know what role it already plays in your life, but not all corn is the same corn.

My grandfather was an early adapter of contour plowing. He was the first in his county to use a rubber-wheeled tractor. He said: "They all told me it would sink in the mud."

But he kept his horses. Down in a pasture by the river. He kept them long after most horses were replaced by tractors on other farms. He kept them as a precautionary measure, a hedge against technology. A horse does not run out of gas, not start in the cold. Grandpa was conservative by nature, not a fool.

I'm not a Luddite, but it is my right to know if my corn's genome has been infected with a bacteria. I want a hedge against technology, but currently the law doesn't give me the right to keep horses.

 

GMO crops should be listed as ingredients in the food we eat. It happens in other places.

Everyone talks about crop science and genetic engineering, But let's be honest, most GMO crops are designed for herbicide resistance. If GMO crops were so great for consumers the great agricultural technology companies would declaim their value to us, but they do not, they hide their product among golden mountains and silos of grain. If GMO's held some great advantage to the consumer then companies would promote them, but instead they hide. This advantage is not for us. It is for Monsanto.

Ronald Reagan said there would be no free lunch and I have heard, you can't get something for nothing. Because the impacts of our technological advancements are not immediately apparent, does not mean they are not significant. 

Studies continue to show the higher food and health values of organic meat and produce, but did you know that GMO's are actively bad for you? Here's some research, I will try to find more.

Science gives us a hundred cures for cancer, along with a thousand causes. 

Fight the power. Let the president know. Real food for Real people. 

Remember most GMO crops are either corn, soy or canola, avoid them or buy organic (organic rules do not allow GMO's)

The List

Leeks, Onions, garlic, shallots
Spinach, Lettuces, Perpetual Spinach, Radicchio, Sorrel, Mizuna, Beets, Arugula, Purslane
Broccoli, Cabbage, Cauliflower, Brussels Sprouts, Kale, Rapini, Rutabaga, Radish, Piracicaba, Turnip
Parsnips, Celeriac, Fennel, Carrots
Tomatoes, Potatoes
Okra
Cantaloupe, Winter Squash, Cucumber
Beans, Peas
Herbs
Flowers
Cover Crops

This is a list of my plant goals for the new year. It is roughly divided into plant families, except for the greens, which cover the waterfront. There are some additions and some subtractions from last year's garden list. I think I will pass on Chard in favor of the Perpetual Spinach. Peppers have been a bit of a disappointment in the past, because of a little bug that bores into the fruit and makes them rot from the inside out. Instead of fighting the bug, I'll try Okra, which is a beautiful plant and from a different family. I am determined to get Rutabagas to survive the depredations of the flea beetles this year and I am sick of not having Brussels Sprouts. This year's plan has a greater emphasis on storage vegetables. I am still enjoying my potatoes and garlic from the basement and wish I had even more stuff down there.

Looking at this list, with its 36 entries, gives an idea of the range of what is possible in an intensively managed plot. For many of these plants there will be multiple plantings and multiple varieties. Figuring it out can be done on the fly - which is pretty much how I usually do it - but that often leaves me cramped for time and space on some crops. This year I am trying to work it out before hand. The first place to start was this wish list. Next comes the piece of paper, where I will attempt to make a "picture" of my garden plans and how they will evolve over the year.

Defender of Food

I just finished In Defense of Food, Michael Pollan's latest. I had been putting it off, since many of the articles it is based on I had already read when they were first published in the NY Times Magazine. A big improvement on The Omnivore's Dilemma, this book is much more of a rant, with back-up. It's more fun to read, with tasty nuggets of fact buried inside - kind of like some of our favorite adulterated food-like products.

Pollan is straight-up from the get-go. He says our food system is sick and its illness is reflected in our societal health. He recommends a simple solution: Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly plants. In 200 pages he presents a relatively plain-spoken argument of what our food mess is, how we got here and how to apply his simplistic (and common-sense,) solution.

Pollan points to two important events of the 70's, Nixon's expansion of farm subsidies, which massively increased corn and soy production, and a little noted "political dust up" that led the Senate Select Committee on Nutrition and Human Needs to change the recommendations they gave Americans about their diets. Rather than suggesting we "reduce consumption of meat," they instead told the public to "choose meats, poultry and fish that will reduce saturated fat intake."

Pollan does not imply that these events created the reductionist nightmare of "Nutritionism," where we talk not about food, but foodstuff's "nutritional value," but he connects them to the broader sweep of American Culture and the Western cult of Science that seems incapable of recognizing its methodology is not suited to understanding every problem.

Now who is ranting?

Anyway, back to the book. Have you ever wondered how to keep up with the changing health news? Eggs are bad - no maybe not. Meat is bad, or maybe just red meat - no its carbohydrates. Fat is bad -well only some fat - well maybe no fat is bad. Turns out all of this info is suspect, or just plain crap. It's all based on science that thinks you can know what food is by breaking it into its parts (and only those parts we have figured out how to measure) It turns out food is way more complicated, especially when its not just how food is prepared, or combined that gives it value, it also matters how it is eaten, or how it is grown. It also turns out there are some very powerful actors that find it useful to discuss food in this reductionist manner. How else can a new product be rolled out every year - or at least relabeled - to reflect the changing winds of "Healthy Eating" Pollan names some names and provides good sources, but this books strength is mostly what its subtitle suggests it is: "An Eater's Manifesto"

In its final section Pollan fleshes out his simple suggestion of eating food, explaining how to identify it, where to find it and some simple tips on how to afford it. You see, good food actually costs more than crap, both in terms of time and money, but it turns out that expense is not as straightforward as it may seem. In 1960 Americans spent 17.5% of their money on food and 5.2% on health care, today the numbers are nearly reversed; food expenses have declined to just 9.9% while health care eats up 16% of National income. Personally, I would rather spend time and money eating well with my friends, than cooling my heels alone in a Doctor's waiting room.

Which is why I already follow many of Pollan's practical food suggestions, such as growing a garden and eating free range organic eggs - because long ago it made sense to me that "You are what you eat eats too" Unfortunately, I can't afford organic, free range meats, so I just try to keep meat a small part of my diet and follow Thomas Jefferson's injunction that meat should be used to flavor vegetables and not the other way around. I have been telling Tiz I'm going to start hunting for a while now, although I'm sure she thinks I'm pulling her leg. But I have talked with enough forest experts to know that here in the Northeast at least, killing Bambie is an environmentally positive thing to do.

Anyway, it's a worthwhile read, even if you are a foodie like me you will surely get something out of it. This year, for example, I will finally order seeds for golden purslane and put a few more Omega-3's in my diet

The Solstice Fire

Not really. I missed the solstice party in the frozen north, where every year they gather beneath icy stars and the pregnant moon to burn everything they could not compost. It has been too long since I was there with them, the white snow beneath, the black sky above and a golden fire reminding of spring returning.

This fire is from the summer past. With our new technologies we are no longer dependent on magic or storytellers to recreate seasons gone. It is easy now to evoke the lushness, buried in death and snow. Something lost with an accurate image gained. 

A picture of my garden in the present tense shows little but white, with the tattered flags of a last column of leeks promising one last harvest. There is a half-row of carrots there too, to be dug during the January thaw. I am busy planning and plotting for next year, deciding on what seeds and tubers I will order to supplement those distributed by Community Gardens. Instead of the tattered present here's an image of the turgid past:

   

Rapini

This is from 11/17, never posted, I'm not sure why, perhaps I wanted photos or to add more. I have included a photo of Bavarian White garlic so that you can get a sense of its size. All of my garlic was large, but the B White was massive. Anyways, the old post:

I planted it sometime. After the turnips and storage radishes.

This is the point of careful records.

It was fabulous. I picked it. One umbel had broken from green to sulfur yellow. The rest were tender, well-branched to 12 inches. I harvested one half of an area five foot square. It made a giant bunch - worth two of what you buy in the market.  It was not as dense as what I have grown accustomed to from the market, but significantly less leafy than other local Rapini I have bought at the Coop.

The surprise came when I cooked it. I wilted, then sauteed a few Portobello mushrooms with more garlic than seemed appropriate. I added the blanched Rapini.

$#%$#$ fabulous. I like Rapini. I'm a bit of a snob. This Rapini rocked. I am happy.

There should be pictures, but I misplaced the camera. 

Today I planted flower bulbs and Bavarian White garlic. The garlic was planted a month after the main planting. I am curious to compare their growth to the earlier planted garlic. I suspect they will be a bit later, but essentially equivalent in mass to those planted earlier. 

1/1 As an addendum let me note how the wrapper on this head in Tiz's hand is split open. This garlic, like too much that I harvested was dug late. The split heads do not store as well and are difficult to clean up, but much more on that subject later.