Radical homemaking. January 25, 2012Posted by ourfriendben in chickens, gardening, homesteading.
Tags: back to the land, CSAs, farmers' markets, Gene Logsdon, Helen and Scott Nearing, Jackie Clay, Jere Gettle, locavores, organic gardening, Radical Homemakers, Ruth Stout, self-sufficiency, Shannon Hayes, slow food
Silence Dogood here. I was intrigued and excited to receive an e-mail from PASA, the Pennsylvania Association for Sustainable Agriculture, announcing the keynote speaker for their upcoming symposium: Shannon Hayes, the author of a book called Radical Homemakers: Reclaiming Domesticity from a Consumer Culture (Left to Write Press, 2010).
Heading to Amazon to read what people had to say about this, I found this bio of Shannon: “Shannon Hayes writes and farms with three generations of her family on Sap Bush Hollow Farm in West Fulton, NY, where she grew up. The family raises all-natural grassfed lamb, beef, pork, and poultry. She holds a BA in creative writing from Binghampton University, and a Masters and PhD in Sustainable Agriculture and Community Development from Cornell. Shannon is the author of three books: Grassfed Gourmet, Farmer and the Grill, and Radical Homemakers…. Shannon currently blogs for Yes! Magazine, and her books are available through most conventional channels, as well as directly from the author at RadicalHomemakers.com and GrassfedCooking.com. Shannon’s newest book, Long Way on a Little: An Earth Lover’s Companion for Enjoying Meat, Pinching Pennies and Living Deliciously, is due out from Left to Write Press in 2012.”
The cover of Radical Homemakers shows Ms. Hayes defiantly brandishing a rolling pin with one well-muscled arm, much like the iconic poster of Rosie the Riveter. You can see that she’s picked her battle and joined it exuberantly. And that battle is an old and honorable one, agrarianism versus industrialization, family and community values versus blind consumerism, honorable, rewarding work versus the mindless climb up the corporate ladder, whatever the price.
The roots of this argument go back to the dawn of the Industrial Revolution. It shaped the lives and thoughts of the Founding Fathers; it spawned the Agrarian Movement in the early 20th-century South, led by such literary luminaries as Robert Penn Warren, Allen Tate and John Crowe Ransom.
It inspired the Back to the Land/homesteading movement of the 1970s, led by those pioneering intellectuals, Helen and Scott Nearing, in their Living the Good Life books; it has been the life work of the fine novelist and farmer Wendell Berry, and has been embraced by the novelist Barbara Kingsolver. It has inspired the rise of local and seasonal eating, of CSAs (consumer-supported organic farms) and farmers’ markets, and has created a renaissance of home cooking and a backlash against fast so-called food. It has inspired chefs and cookbook authors like Alice Waters, Mollie Katzen and Laurel Robertson, and seedsmen and seedswomen like Rose Marie Nichols, Rob Johnston, Jere Gettle, and Renee Shepherd.
Our friend Ben and I are totally on board with this. We moved to Pennsylvania back in the day when an opportunity arose to work for Organic Gardening, a magazine we wholeheartedly believed in. Our escapist reading has been publications like Mother Earth News, Back Home, Backwoods Home, and Plain, and the works of the Nearings, Wendell Berry, Gary Paul Nabhan, Ruth Stout, Jackie Clay, and Gene Logsdon. Our families still scratch their heads over why we chose to make our home in a rural cottage and fill our property with a greenhouse, chicken yard, compost bins, raised beds, fruit trees, vine trellises, woodpiles, rain barrels, and the like. Our colleagues have always asked us why we didn’t seek jobs in New York and Philadelphia, just a few tedious hours’ commute away.
Well, we didn’t want to. We’ve enjoyed our organic connection with our work and with our land, and all the plants and animals we share it with. We’re so grateful to the internet for making broader connections effortlessly possible, enabling our lives to be home-based while still keeping us connected to friends, family, world events, and the latest discoveries in every field. Letting our minds and hearts reach out, even as we’re able to remain centered.
Our choices have had, as you might expect, considerable impact on our style of living. Our cottage home needs painting in the worst way. Our cars are ancient and battered, held together with a prayer and a few strips of duct tape. We need a new stove, new laptops, a digital camera, a washer-dryer. We dream of travel but stay at home. Going to a movie, eating out, buying even the most basic new clothes become major decisions. (Thank God for thrift shops, home cooking, and Netflix!) And yet, imagine this: A life without deadlines, without meetings, without commuting, without constantly having to check your smartphone and talk, text, tweet. “I know a place where dreams come true and time is never planned,” James Barrie, author of Peter Pan, wrote longingly. We know that place, too. We’re lucky enough to live there.
But let’s get back to Radical Homemakers. The title should have clued me in right away that this is an interview book, a profile book, not a how-to book. Homemakers, not Homemaking. The author is also apparently very eager to show that homemaking is not anti-feminist, and feminism apparently occupies a good deal of her approach. (To me, true feminism is doing whatever you feel is right, not wasting time trying to prove that you’re really as good as men—shock surprise!—or that what you’ve chosen to do isn’t demeaning. But I digress.) And she was fortunate enough to have a working family farm to move her family to (for free) when she decided to leave the rat race for a more meaningful life.
Shannon Hayes has, in my opinion, created the meaningful, home-based life she sought for herself and her family. And in Radical Homemakers, she interviews families across the country who have also achieved this goal. What the book doesn’t do is provide a roadmap to help others who have the same dream achieve their goal, especially if they don’t have a family farm to move to or a family who will pay their expenses.
This is in marked contrast to the Nearings’ books, in which they explained exactly what they thought, exactly what they learned to do, exactly how they planned, exactly what they gave up, and exactly what they did to create “the good life.”
And yet. The Nearings inspired the entire Back to the Land movement with their books. But they made their move in the 1930s, when land was cheap and plenty was available. They were published and accomplished authors, who had led privileged and cosmopolitan lives and had influential connections across the globe. Their connections allowed them to spend half of every year visiting friends and lecturing abroad, and the earnest (young, strong) groupies who flocked to their Forest Farm allowed them to delegate unpaid work, often for years, while they wrote and made music and led a civilized life.
Not that they didn’t feed, shelter, and include their volunteers in their cultural life. Not that they didn’t work hard themselves and live very simply (mostly on unbuttered baked potatoes, raw apples, and undressed salad, if memory serves, on the theory that if you aren’t hungry enough to eat plain food, you aren’t hungry enough to eat, period).
Rather, the problem was that they were delineating the new/old Utopia, based on backbreaking agrarian labor, and their vision was espoused not by farm workers but by Hippies, who embraced peace, love and drugs rather than hard work, who had no experience of work, much less farm work, and who had no support network. The Nearings were as horrified by the people who created a cult around them as JRR Tolkien was by the fans of his Lord of the Rings trilogy. There simply was no meeting of the minds. The Flower Power generation tried the homestead life, alone and communally, and next thing we knew, they’d become Yuppies, pursuing their parents’ have-it-all consumerist lifestyle with a vengeance.
Well, we’ve seen what happened to the ’80s. We’ve also seen the resurgence of the back-to-the-landers, with urban farms and urban chickens and CSAs and farmers’ markets and slow food and seasonal eating and locavores. We’ve seen how the internet has given all these trends vitality and longevity. And we love that.
So what if Radical Homemakers is an inspirational rather than a how-to book? As long as readers expect inspiration rather than how-to, I see no problem with that. Reading the Nearings and Organic Gardening opened our eyes to new possibilities, honorable livelihood, the concept that you could go back to the land without giving up culture and civilized pursuits. This realization changed our lives’ directions. Who knows what you might find that would trigger a total life change, or a minor tweak that would make your own life whole?
The world of blogging offers a great opportunity to explore the lives of real-time homesteaders, family farmers, and urban bioneers, to see how hard they work, what they’ve chosen to do, the rewards and trials, how their families like it. Some places we love are Jackie Clay’s blog (http://www.backwoodshome.com/blogs/JackieClay/), Gene Logsdon’s musings (http://thecontraryfarmer.wordpress.com/), Alan’s adventures over at Roberts Roost (http://www.robertsroostfarm.com/), Daphne’s Dandelions (http://daphnesdandelions.blogspot.com/), Aunt Debbi’s Garden (http://auntdebbisgarden.blogspot.com/), Future House Farm (http://futurehousefarm.blogspot.com/), and The Home Garden (http://www.growingthehomegarden.com/). We love many other blogs, of course, but these cover various aspects of self-sufficiency and food gardening, from urban and suburban spaces to a few acres to a few hundred. Check them out!
And if you’ve read Radical Homemakers, please let us know what you think!
‘Til next time,
It’s all about the tomatoes. August 19, 2008Posted by ourfriendben in gardening, homesteading, wit and wisdom.
Tags: back to the land, gardening books, Heirloom, Helen and Scott Nearing, Tim Stark, tomatoes
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Harvesting tomatoes. Eating tomatoes. Canning tomatoes. Reading about tomatoes. Uh, say what? Today, as Silence Dogood prepares to cut up and cook down a Xerox box full of heirloom paste tomatoes to make and can her famous tomato sauce, it seems only appropriate to recommend a book she discovered on a recent trip to the small but choice used-book store in nearby Kutztown, Pennsylvania. (Especially since our friend Ben dissed the umpteen cookbooks she dragged home from her expedition. Talk about stocking up!)
The front room of the Saucony Book Shop is devoted to regional history, and its proprietor, Brendan Strasser, often displays new books by local authors in addition to the wealth of used books for which the bookstore is known. Our friend Ben once found a book of poems there that was written by the previous owner of my own home, Hawk’s Haven. But what Silence found was a book about tomatoes.
Heirloom: Notes from an Accidental Tomato Farmer describes the conversion of author Tim Stark from freelance writer living in Brooklyn, New York to heirloom tomato farmer back at his family place, Eckerton Hill Farm, outside Lenhartsville, PA. (Obviously enough, though, this is a book we’re talking about. Once a writer, always a writer.)
Now, our friend Ben’s and Silence’s favorite fantasy reading has always been about derring-do involving back-to-the-land adventures. From childhood’s Little House on the Prairie books and pretty much any book about Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett, and their ilk, to grad school’s Good Life books by Helen and Scott Nearing and well-thumbed issues of Organic Gardening and Mother Earth News, to today’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, Wendell Berry’s Port William novels, and Donald McCaig’s An American Homeplace, that pioneer spirit, the centrality of the land, of finding one’s place on earth, has always been “it” for us. (Remember the choleric little Gerald O’Hara shouting in Gone with the Wind, “Land is the only thing that matters, Katie Scarlett!” No, not the only thing. Just the thing.)
So imagine our delight when we discovered a back-to-the-land book with a real-life setting about half an hour from our rural home, Hawk’s Haven, located in the precise middle of nowhere, PA! We pass through Lenhartsville regularly en route to Hawk Mountain Sanctuary, that preeminent hawk migration site on the Kittatinny Ridge. We even think we recognize the description of the author’s home place. And of course, Tim Stark’s description of his journey of discovery, of how heirloom tomatoes (and heirloom chile peppers) came to define his livelihood and his sense of self, resonated with us. We wannabe back-to-the-landers were in awe: Look, he actually did it!
Mind you, we’re not talking about self-sufficient living here, drawing all your resources from the land, the ultimate produce gardener’s fantasy. Tim Stark is able to do what he does because he sells his heirloom tomatoes in New York City, to high-end chefs and in the fabled Greenmarket, as opposed to, say, the Kutztown Farmers’ Market. From what we can tell, he was also the first person to introduce heirloom, non-red tomatoes to New York, creating demand as well as cornering the market.
This is not the life for everyone, to say the least. But for Tim Stark, it’s turned his private passion—heirloom tomatoes—into a profession. God bless him. And let’s hope that Heirloom will prompt the rest of us to take a good long look at what we really want to do with our lives, and think about turning those dreams into reality. Like the Nearings’ books, which launched the back-to-the-land movement in the ’70s, it’s another wake-up call. As Russia goes to war, Pakistan’s political shakeup further threatens the stability of the Middle East, and yet another hurricane slams into our coasts, our friend Ben thinks Jean-Jacques Rousseau had the right idea: We must cultivate our gardens. And, say, can some tomato sauce.