Taking a Stand for Farmland

This quote sums up the number one mistake of many ancient civilizations that thought they had it all figured out, until one day...their resources were gone. Forever. This resulted in their eventual demise. We are globally headed in a similar direction, unless each of us takes some responsibility for ourselves and our own food supply. I listened to the audio version of this book, A Short History of Progress, back in 2006, which was probably when I began to think a little bit more about sustainable living. It's really worth a read/listen. 

Last week we attended a meeting regarding the ALR, or Agricultural Land Reserve of British Columbia. It was put in place in the 1970's to preserve farmland across the province. There was a hall full of concerned citizens who want to see the land remain as productive farmland. They're full up on strip malls, fracking sites and housing subdivisions.  I was surprised to learn that something like only 5% of the landmass in BC is fertile farmland. And it's shrinking. 

Yikes. 

We signed petitions and shared lengthy discussions about what we can all do. The same group organized a rally that took place today in front of the legislature in the capital city of Victoria.

We woke up this morning to a snowy winter wonderland (of all days) which made for a slushy trip to the Capitol.  Once we arrived, the sun came out and stayed out just long enough for the remainder of the rally. 

Over a thousand supporters from all walks of life came out to cheer on the speakers and show our government that we won't just sit back and watch them destroy this precious fertile land forever. We even enjoyed a local apple, which a fellow hauled by many bushels on the back of his bike trailer. That's dedication to local food. 

My personal response to this issue is to stay informed and to continue to further my knowledge of small scale, natural food production. We are so excited to grow a garden where the growing season can be extended nearly year-round for the hardier veggies.

What steps are you and your family taking to create a sense of ownership and pride in your food supply? It's easier than you may think. And it's fun too!

On the weekend we took a ferry across to Salt Spring Island's "Seedy Saturday" seed exchange event. We left there with a hardy helping of 25 varieties of mostly organic, locally-saved non-GMO seeds.

 There were hundreds of varieties (Many I had never even heard of!) of everything at numerous booths and it was fairly overwhelming. I felt like a kid in a candy shop! Thank goodness we made a list beforehand. The vendors were all so enthusiastic and passionate about saving seeds and they encouraged others to grow their own food and save seeds themselves.

Speaking of local food, I am excited to begin working at the local organic market next week as part of the produce team. We were invited to sit in on a meeting with some local farmers to discuss who would be supplying the store with which produce this season. It's so refreshing to see these kinds of partnerships happening! Things are coming full circle. 

Think about this:

Now it's time to get supplies to start some seeds indoors. The challenge always seems to be finding space to do this. I think we may have a few window sills available...on your mark, get set, GROW!

California Dreamin'

As we continued west along the US/Mexico border, the land got drier and more deserted. Towns were few and far between and many establishments that were once thriving were boarded up and abandoned. 

As soon as we crossed from Arizona into California, something changed. Suddenly there were endless fields of vegetation at various stages of growth, all being watered in the intense mid-day sunshine by thousands of sprinkler heads.  My guess is that watering in the peak of the heat is the only way to keep lush green crops from shriveling up in the extreme desert conditions, which are only conducive to growing cacti. Not sustainable. The most disturbing part of this was the hundreds of miles of open aqueducts (like canals) that were being used to supply massive quantities of water to these plantations.

 These canals are sourced from several major rivers and from the Ogallala aquifer, which lies beneath a large potion of the Midwest and southwestern USA. It's estimated that it formed over millions of years, and It's being drained at an alarming rate to feed the need for mass-produced meat and commercial produce across North America.  In some places the aquifer is nearly tapped out, giant sink holes are forming and communities are running out of water. It is estimated to run dry in the next several decades. Consider these circumstances. It's alarming to me that we have no idea where the majority of our food is coming from and what it takes to get it into our shopping carts. The severity of the sacrifices that are being made now and left for our future generations to deal with later is a huge concern. I will forever have these images in my mind when I see produce that has a California sticker on it. (probably Mexico too). Another great reason to eat local, and in season.

I was relieved to see fields full of wind turbines (a step in a better direction?) spanning across the desert as we approached an extremely unique mountain range called the Cuyamaca Mountains. 

These mountains were actually made up of huge piles of giant boulders that looked like a massive bulldozer had dropped from the sky. So amazing. 

As we summited the mountain range and coasted down the west side, weaving in between peaks, we began to see signs of human settlements again. After driving for an entire day, without seeing more than a gas station, this was strangely relieving. 

As per a suggestion from TripAdvisor, (which we rarely turned to for "touristy" suggestions) we headed late afternoon to the Sunset Cliffs in San Diego. We wanted to watch the sun go down and celebrate our return to the West Coast. 

We parked the car and walked along the cliff boardwalk. What a beautiful place. We strolled through the neighborhood and marveled at the fact that produce was dripping from trees in every yard and many fruits were rotting on the ground. 

Lemons, oranges, persimmons, avocados, pomegranates and many other fruits grow so abundantly here that the locals give them away to each other by the bagful and they are considered by many to be a nuisance.

We had posted a general note on the San Diego Couch Surfing message board seeking a host for a couple of nights. A man around our age responded and invited us to stay with him while we were in town. We thoroughly enjoyed his hospitality and his sightseeing and restaurant suggestions. 

We went just outside of San Diego to a town called La Jolla. Torrey Pines National Park was calling to us for an afternoon hike. The park land was donated to the state by a wealthy family back in the 1930's. This park and a few small surrounding areas are the only places in the world that house the Torrey Pine trees.

The trails scale up steep cliffs and through many acres of chaparral brush land. We concluded the hike with a walk down a long stretch of beach. 

Afterward we headed north to Encinitas to visit the Self-Realization Fellowship campus. It is a yoga center that was founded in the 1930's by Paramahansa Yogananda. What a neat place!

 We strolled through the meditation gardens, which coincidentally were closed to the public that day. We said hello to the security guard who asked where we were from. She said they make exceptions for out-of-towners, so we got a chance to look around after all. There were several acres of lush tropical gardens and ponds with waterfalls that Yogananda had helped plant himself. Such a serene environment.  

 

We climbed a small flight of stairs to a viewpoint that overlooked the ocean. An older woman sat on a bench alone and invited us to join her. We had a lovely visit with her and she told us that this was one of her favorite spots of all time. She said that when she dies, she would like her ashes spread in all of her favorite places, this being one of them. It's a very special place. 

PS.  I think that SoCal is one of the only places where you will see lost pet signs like these:

The Mailbox on the Beach

It's been surprisingly tricky to make time to write and reflect while everything is new and exciting all around me. I made notes along the way so I would remember all of the great experiences we have been having. This is going to be lengthy but enjoyable!

I left off with us heading to visit my mom. We spent a few days with her and my step dad around Middletown, New York, driving around the countryside which was dotted with Victorian mansions, large horse farms and apple orchards. We sought out a particular farm which we saw advertised in a local magazine called Dirt. This magazine is distributed freely in mailboxes around that region and features local food growers and tips about sustainable living. Such a great resource. 

The farm we visited had produce galore, fresh eggs and even grew their own black beans. We wandered into a large barn which housed a walk-in fridge full of more produce and prepared meals and snacks made from the farm's own goods. They also hosted monthly local food dinners in the large, rustic dining room. My mom inquired as to whether their produce was organic. The owner explained that even with an organic certification, certain pesticides and herbicides are still "ok" to apply to crops and that they use no pesticides or herbicides at all on this farm. "So you're beyond organic then?" I asked. "Exactly." She answered. 

Folks are trained these days to seek out an organic certification logo on their foods. Take it a step beyond that and get to know the people who are growing your food (or grow some yourself!). Challenge yourself to find a local farmers market or farm stand. In addition, you can join a CSA (community supported agriculture) group at a local farm, where you can participate in growing your food and get heaps of fresh produce each week all growing season!

Mid-week we booked a room in a hostel in Brooklyn, NYC, which was only an hour and a half away. We drove into the city after morning rush hour and checked into our hostel, which was actually a converted third floor apartment. It was cute and cozy and hosted young folks from around the world.

Outside, at our car we were approached by a man in his 60's who was a passenger in a large SUV. He asked in French if we spoke French and I said no (where did my french skills go from two years of French class in high school?) He pointed to our Canadian license plate and must have guessed we were French speaking. He got out of the vehicle and proceeded to tell us all about NYC, and Brooklyn in particular, in his thick foreign accent. He said the recent mayor had broken up the mafia and that it's now a much safer city, with less dismembered bodies in garbage bags. (Phew!) He did give us pointers on how to out-think anyone who may be trying to intimidate or assault us on the streets. Mind over matter. He said that he, too had traveled around the USA for 9 months in the 1960's after saving up for 5 years. Harvey was a tall, African man, native to Haiti and had lived in NYC for over 40 years. He was warm and cheerful and listening to him was like a scene from a novel. We had just listened to The Alchemist by Paolo Cohelo on CD (amazing story!) and this encounter was like a chapter from that story. We shook hands and thanked him for all of his wisdom and advice and proceeded to the bus station about 8 or 10 blocks away. For the first time in my life, I got a taste of what it was like to be the racial minority. We were the only Caucasian people as far as the eye could see. I suddenly had an even deeper respect for folks who are treated as unequal in much of North America. Racism is very much still happening all over the world and I can not understand it. I will write more about that another time. As we sat on the bus stop bench, about 45 minutes later, Harvey drove by and shouted and waved from the passenger seat of the SUV with a big grin on his face. Amazing that in a city of millions, he happened to find us twice. I suspect we were easy to spot. 

NYC was wonderful and absolutely insane. I grew up very near there and made yearly trips with school to see Broadway plays and museums, and the US Open tennis tournament was an annual high school tennis team trip.  However, I had never been in a passenger vehicle, as we always traveled by greyhound-style buses.  It was madness. We were on constant high alert for wild drivers and daring pedestrians and cyclists. We spent an evening strolling in a fun neighborhood in Brooklyn called Williamsburg, and met up with some fellow Albertans. The following day, we trekked into the heart of the chaos and accidentally drove (extremely slowly, in a sea of vehicles) through Times Square. The art, music, fashion ad architecture are so unique in NYC. A feast for the senses. It was a short visit to NYC but a memorable one. We both decided spur-of-the-moment to get a permanent keepsake to remember this crazy journey. 

After NYC, we spent a few days regrouping our energy and relaxed back in rural Pennsylvania with family and friends. We took my dad for a birthday brunch with some old friends at a beautiful B & B called The Settler's Inn. They had dozens of spectacularly carved jack o' lanterns decorating the place and it was so cozy and fall-like. We both bonded with my 7 year old nephew and we were all so sad to part. Can't wait to see him again. 

We made our way down the east coast through Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia, down to a tiny place at the southern border of North Carolina's coast. This is where my mom has decided to retire with her beau. We have been here for several days and have enjoyed the beaches and balmy weather. 

On our first day here, we walked several miles on the lovely Sunset Beach to a very unique place. A 1,300 acre wildlife preserve along the beach has been protected to assist in the successful hatching of loggerhead sea turtles. There are thousands of rolling sand dunes covered in tall native grasses and scruffy brush.

A mile from the nearest parking, just off the beach, marked by an American flag pole, on top of a dune, stands a lone mailbox. It reads "kindred spirit". Inside of it are several notebooks and pens. The notebooks are filled with mostly anonymous journal entries from thousands of global visitors. Based on the dates at the start and end of one journal, I would guess that there are hundreds of visitors each month. I paged through and saw hopes and wishes and even confessions. I was so moved by this concept. There was even a package of tissues in the box for the teary-eyed vagabond.  I just about needed one. We left our own entries amongst the others and sat down on the weather-worn bench to take in the beauty of the Atlantic Ocean. What a perfect place for souls to come and recharge.