Our home school collective went on a field trip to a dairy farm yesterday. The excursion was illuminating, to say the very least. I certainly don't feel like an uninformed person when it comes to understanding where our food comes but seeing things up close and personal really brings the details into the blaring light. From my perspective, it was a sad, sad place to be. The cows live under a roofed concrete floor that is fashioned with water mattresses for them to lie down on. They walk around in their urine and feces. Their legs are and sometimes their sides are caked with their bodily fluids. And if you haven't been a round a cow in a long time,  their is a lot of urine and poo. The children marveled at the copious amount of waste issuing from the backsides of these black and white dairy maids.

I'm sure the waste is hosed out a few times a day and it probably wouldn't have seemed as awful to me if I hadn't asked the question, "When do they go out to pasture?" The answer: "Only when they are about 2 months from giving birth." Other than that they live on concrete floors. They are inseminated by humans (with bull sperm , of course), their calves are born, taken away and fed formula. The calves live in little plastic huts called "Calf-tels." Some of these structures  have the word HUMANE imprinted on them.

On the flip side, the farmers aren't rich. I don't mean this to be some sort of expose on dairy farms. My understanding (from a friend who has dairy farming family)  is that dairy farmers are not financed by banks unless they farm a certain way. The "certain" way is the the path to the most profit. The path to the most profit does not include pastures and exercise for the cows. The path does not include a natural diet for the cows but rather corn. Cows normally eat grass. Funny, we grow lawns and mow them like it is a religious ritual but cows must eat corn. The path does  include antibiotics, chemicals, water beds and aqua cow rising systems for downed cows.

So then, the farmers barely eek out a living, the cows live a life on concrete, corn and three milkings a day, we consumers imbibe denatured milk containing who knows what (really), and who reaps all the benefits from this mess? The big milk companies, chemical companies, agribusiness and banks I guess. I'm sure I'm missing something here but it all adds up to me thinking our family needs to change its eating ways. Reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle along with my continued readings of Wendell Berry has enlightened me but the path to eating in a just and sustainable way is a windy one. Our family lives on a very modest income. CSA's, buying shares in cows, buying local and organic foods and are prohibitively expensive for us. I held back a gasp the other day at our local organic Market, Ellwood Thompson's, when the clerk informed me that ONE organic red bell pepper cost $8. Again, who is REALLY profiting from those prices. The farmers? I doubt it.

So, I'm growing bell peppers and tomatoes and lettuce and peas and beans and basil and squash. But it won't be enough to get us through a year. It'll help though.

I've also been peeking through a book called Food Not Lawns. It has some radical ideas. I always like a sprinkling of radical. Food Not Lawns also has some fantastic ideas on how take control and ownership of our foodchain here and now. I'm pretty sure I'll be owning this book soon!

Clean Food. Pure Air. Clean Water. We, the living beings of this planet, need them all to be healthy.

Are we healthy? That is the question.

____________________________

Other suggested reading: Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals 

photo: Shy Calf. Kimmy Certa 

 a glimpse of yesterday. boy removing a  holly leaf from  his sister's foot.

If not for the love of friends I'd probably have made my stay in the dark parts of myself a little longer this April. If not for friends, I probably wouldn't have made serpants cakes for Beltane. If not for the love of friends, my life would be fretful, dull and colorless....

I HEART Nancy and Debbie.

I opened my eyes this morning and gazed over at little Ane. She was still asleep and even more lovable because she was sleeping. That might not be the most kind thing a parent can say but when your four year old has taken to screaming, harassing, and repeating things over and over in a monotonous chant until you cave, explode or run away.....well, it was a nice change and she looked quite sweet.

So, the morning is starting out well. No screams.

Sunshine. Another good omen.

Ane wakes up and smiles at me. Crux hears us and comes to snuggle under the covers. All cozy and happy.

Then I clear my throat and feel a nasty loogie . A really nasty one that has to come up. I hack like a cat with a hairball. I throw the covers off and attempt to sit up but I haven't realized that I am sleeping on the very edge of the bed. As I turn over I fall out of the bed on to my knees and one of my arms reaches out to break my fall but, instead, smashes right through one of our bedroom windows .

Fortunately, the window was covered by a curtain and I sustained no injuries.

This was a fun story to tell Chris on the morning of his birthday. I have a penchant for breaking windows. I accidentally broke the window of my wee little Nissan/Datsun Sentra the morning Chris and I fell in love. I also broke one while he and I were playing with a Nerf ball.  Now I've broken one falling out of bed while hocking up a loogie. It is one of my endearing qualities.

Not having to do with glass but related: In fourth grade we were bunny hop relay racing up to the brick wall and back and I somehow bunny hopped head first in to the wall and broke my wrist and sustained a concussion. Just last month I sprained my neck and had a concussion while taking out the garbage at work. This is just something I live with.

Maybe I'll tell you some time about the time I inadvertantly slashed a wrist on a rock in the middle of the James River and how my dog and my best friend swam me to the shore. Or the time I woke up from fainting with one arm tied to a doorknob and my best friend (again) smacking me  in the face as I aspirated vomit. Classic Kimmy.

Farewell April, at long last. 

 *Photo by Kimmy Certa. April Sapling Shadow and Moss*

"The best way to control bamboo is to eat it."

~David Fairchild, American Botanist and plant explorer 

In order to distract myself from my foul mood and temper, I decided yesterday that I was going to go with the flow. It was overcast and cool and I needed a day of nothing. It was urgent that I do so.

I sent the kids out into the yard to kick over bamboo shoots like I do every time this year. There is a huge stand of it in our neighbor's yard but every year it sends out more roots and shoots. They are impossible to destroy. The incredible growing grass was planted by the previous owners and now they are gone and know not what they did.  Every spring bamboo shoots emerge on our side of the fence. They grow with amazing speed, sometimes several inches in a day.  If we were to move out of our home there is no doubt in my mind that the bamboo and honeysuckle would take over the house in short order. Not only would these invasive plants bust through the foundation and cover the roof but I reckon Percy, the groundhog, and all the little songbirds would move in. It would be a lovely little ruin.

Each year as we kick over the shoots I tell the kids that you can eat bamboo shoots. Indeed, one of our neighbors used to come over and collect the shoots to cook in his outdoor kitchen. They have since moved from the neighborhood, but I was always fascinated by Fred because he could find Chanterelle mushrooms growing on stumps in the alley and make a gourmet meal in his backyard without heating up the house. He was a mountain man.

I'm an amateur mountain woman , except I fancy I'd live near the shore....

I've always been very interested in identifying plants and wildlife. Bugs , like the fluffy centipede crawling on the wall of the pizza shop on Friday, get me giddy. Finding a Ladyslipper is cause for celebration, and being able to make a meal from foraged plants is something I aspire to. So, when Ane said, "Let's cook the bamboo," I decided to go with the flow.

She collected a few shoots and I peeled all of the tough outer leaves off until I found the soft yellow/white center. I chopped it and boiled it for 20 minutes. I read that boiling it takes out the bitter. Then I made a bamboo gratin with milk a little butter and flour, garlic and bread crumbs. It was very tasty and Ane (4 years old) had three servings for dinner: little Panda Boo.

This week I will make a bamboo slaw with sesame and ginger dressing. 

Meanwhile, I'll try to cast off this foul and angry mood that April has bestowed upon me and try to make sense of it all through creative cooking and foraging.