tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2463122129251912602024-02-21T04:26:43.865-05:00Down to EarthA day in the life of an unashamed tree hugger...down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-7693711090319891702018-04-28T10:41:00.001-04:002018-04-28T10:59:31.255-04:00Gloria Ushigua, President of the Sápara Women's Association of Ecuador <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My brave friend Gloria. She has fought for decades for the rights of her people and their piece of Amazonian jungle. They are only a few now... I think she said there are only a dozen of the pure tribe left.<br /><br />Gloria has been jailed, torn from her bed in the middle of the night by masked men, beaten, tied up and thrown in the trunk of a car and left to die by the side of the road. <br /><br />
But she is not alone. The women of various tribes like the Shuar, the Huaorani, the Ashuar, the Quichua and others are putting differences aside and banding together now.<br /> <br />
So why should we care about some women half a world away?<br /><br />Even if you don't care about the human rights of Amazon Tribes, <br />Even if you don't care about ONE THIRD of the species of birds in the world, <br />Even if you don't care about the remarkable animals and birds, like the jaguar and the hyacinth macaw, that exist no where else on earth, <br /><br />Then maybe care about this:
<br /><br />Without the Amazon the lungs of the world are gone. <br />Without the Amazon untold medicinal plants that could save your lives will be lost.
<br /><br />Her exhaustion, her ravaged face tells the story of what she has been through yet still she stands and fights for what she believes. <br /><br />I wish I had a tenth of her guts.<br />
<br />
Leonardo de Caprio and other famous people have taken up the fight for this cause and that of others Amazon nations.<br /><br />I wish I believed it will make a difference.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPfnMGctL6k&feature=share">Gloria Ushigua, President of the Sápara Women's Association of Ecuador</a><br /><br /><a href="https://www.frontlinedefenders.org/en/case/case-history-gloria-ushigua">Gloria Ushigua harrassed for her legitimate and peaceful protests</a></div>
down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-28977239811456433332016-09-05T16:02:00.000-04:002016-09-05T16:02:15.983-04:00It's alive!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It has been two years since I have posted anything. You wouldn't be blamed if you thought this old tree hugger had passed on. But I'm alive and hugging with a new project on the go. <br />
<br />
Thanks to a friend in Ecuador I was recently electronically introduced to author Scarlett Braden.<br />
<a href="http://scarlettbraden.blogspot.ca/2016/07/signs-of-worthy-mission.html">http://scarlettbraden.blogspot.ca/2016/07/signs-of-worthy-mission.html</a> She was collecting anecdotes from Ex Pats to produce a little book that could be sold to gather funds for the earthquake victims in Ecuador. By the time word got around the book and submissions poured in the book grew into 5 books and a whole anthology was born.<br />
<br />
I knew that somewhere in the myriad files on my computer I had many stories from ten years spent in that wonderful country. <br />
<br />
So I sussed them out, dusted them off and purtied them up. Of the six I submitted I was pleased to see four of them accepted.<br />
<br />
The book, entitled Friends in Foreign Places, is due to launch on September 25th. There are some great stories from about 35 writers. Some of them are published authors and others who, like me maybe, are wannabes.<br />
<br />
I am hoping some friends, friends of friends and maybe even some who think I stink might buy a copy. All proceeds will go to victims of the earthquake and to another charity, Hearts of Gold Foundation. <br />
<br />
We contributing writers don't benefit monetarily. But if the rest of the gang feels like I do, it is a super feeling to be able to help people in need by doing what we love best - writing. <br />
<br />
There has been a very personal gain for me in rekindling my writing fire which had just been smouldering quietly for a few years. <br />
<br />
I learned a tiny piece of the publishing business and hope to share more stories from my life and times in the future.<br />
<br />
I'll remind you of the launch date, how you can purchase this book, and how you can put a smile on an earthquake victim's face.<br />
<br />
It's good to be back hugging trees again. </div>
down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-67699827490367689892014-03-31T10:15:00.002-04:002014-03-31T10:15:27.516-04:00Twenty First Anniversary of the Josefina landslide near Cuenca Ecuador<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
It is hard to believe that 21 years have passed. I remember it well as I was living just off the Pan American Highway on the road to the village of Llacao, a few minutes drive from the affected area. We were fortunate but many of the people I knew were not so lucky.<br />
<br />
When I came home a few years later I wrote this piece entitled <i>Los Damnificados</i>...The Cursed Ones..which is what victims of the ensuing flood called themselves in those days.<br />
<br />
I apologize in advance for any errors you may find in this post.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Los Damnificados</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“If something isn’t done it could reach <st1:place w:st="on">Cuenca</st1:place>,” said Ashiko.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ashiko was our hired man and he was speaking about the <i>inundacion</i> or flood that was creeping backwards inch by watery inch from the junction where the Hadan and Cuenca rivers poured into the River Paute.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We had a property just past the bridge at El Descanso de Sucre in the tiny settlement called La Victoria del Portete.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We went to take a look, along with hundreds of other cars on
a Sunday outing, to see the latest disaster to befall <st1:place w:st="on">Ecuador</st1:place>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although the Cuenca-Canar section of the Pan
Americano was impassable on the first Sunday we could reach our property </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by going the long way around through some pretty country towns.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Upon arrival we harvested our first planting of hominy corn and retrieved
some items from the property. The two houses, made of concrete block, were still dry and one was higher up the slope so might be safe. It could never cover our houses like it had some of the ones located on the
banks, could it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Tuesday we tried to return but t</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">his time there was no pass.
The swollen brown river licked the belly of the old stone and cement bridge
where the road forked off to Gualaceo at El Descanso. There was fear that the river would take
the bridge as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Telephone poles near the river bank came up, gasped and sank
beneath the waves. The beautiful hacienda right on the riverbank that I had so
admired, was entirely submerged and lost from view. Bloated corpses of sheep, goats, cows, dogs, cats
and, yes, humans bobbed on the gently rippled surface.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thievery was rife. The intrepid held their breath and dove down to pull out soaked
treasures. Some limited themselves to stealing clay tiles from a few still exposed
roofs. Mud huts dissolved slowly back to their original form. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our neighbour, a lawyer from Cuenca who had an extensive flower export business lost most of his crops and buildings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the government dickered and scratched its head the water
moved inexorably on. “Why don’t they
just dynamite it?” said my practical, action-oriented husband Julio.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ever erring on the side of caution, I was horrified. “But that
could cause more of the mountain to cave in couldn’t it?” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We should wait to see
what the experts , called over from Switzerland, say, I thought. Julio, never impressed by experts insisted he
was right. </span></div>
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<img src="http://www.ipitimes.com/lajosefina062007.jpg" /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over eons the Rio Paute had carved a deep canyon through the
mountain as it made its way to the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Amazon</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Basin</st1:placetype></st1:place>. The road through the canyon passed by Gualaceo and Paute and other small settlements. These faced an uncertain future should the now dammed up water release too suddenly from the algae covered lake they had formed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gualaceo was proud
of being “<i>La Puerta del Oriente</i>” literally
the door to the east but in <st1:place w:st="on">Ecuador</st1:place> the Oriente signified deep
Amazonian jungle. The local landmark...the golden chicken (an image that appeared on the canyon wall) would be drowned and gone forever
now.</span></div>
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<img src="http://blogs.agu.org/landslideblog/files/2010/10/08_05-Beichuan-lake-2.jpg" /><br />
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<a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSV7FTgketf0PvZccL48Gi0uAEyAwImBZSHvTuLs3FWc7sQrT2s" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSV7FTgketf0PvZccL48Gi0uAEyAwImBZSHvTuLs3FWc7sQrT2s" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Years of poor mining practices, allowed to continue by the
fat graft paid to government officials, had finally weakened the mountains resolve to
stand tall. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One fateful morning it just
gave up. It slumped its mighty shoulders all the way down to the river,
covering huts perched on its side, animals, businesses, bromeliads and humans before it reached the road and a large section of river Paute. The rivers that poured into the Paute had nowhere to go after they formed the large lake, but backwards and upwards. And up they
ran, over houses and fields.</span></div>
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<img src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSV7FTgketf0PvZccL48Gi0uAEyAwImBZSHvTuLs3FWc7sQrT2s" /><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One victim, who took refuge with us, told us his family was sleeping when they heard a
tremendous rushing sound. They looked
outside to see an ocean of mud, rocks and water licking the bottom floor of
their house. </span><br />
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<img src="http://i.hoy.ec/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/josefina.jpg" /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a tree outside
the window. Thinking quickly he helped his wife out and handed the three
children out to her. Before he could reach the tree his wife and young son were
swept away. He spent a horrifying night
clinging to his other two children in the crotch of the tree before being
rescued. Homeless and heartsick he was a
haunted man, wandering with blank eyes seeking shelter from one relative and
another but finding no solace anywhere. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The <i>damnificados</i> , victims of the flood, were
housed along with their heavy burden of anguish first in tent cities and later in convents and schools. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Collections were taken from the already impoverished to cover their food and
for a rebuilding fund. Sickeningly there was much scandal surrounding what happened to a large part of these collected funds and several esteemed members of the Catholic Church were rumored to be involved. Tongues were clucked, shoulders were shrugged but no one was taken to account as far as I know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the river rose. And rose. Thirty three long days went by as the army chipped away at
the lip of the earth with shovels. Their plan was to make a small breach through which the
river would slowly trickle downward to Gualaceo and Paute. The residents of these towns had been evacuated
and lived in a tent city for a time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And it turned out I had been wrong about the property in La Victoria.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Some said the water had risen to a depth of 75 feet. The lower two story house was completely submerged while the upper house had water up to the window sills...approximately 3 feet off the ground.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meanwhile the creek
behind our house </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">near Llacao</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> became a stream and then a river, makeshift bridges were swept
away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were thankful that we had built on the second level of our new
property. It sloped steeply in three
tables from the gravel road winding between the Pan Americano and the mountain <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">village</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Llacao</st1:placename></st1:place>.
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But some of the </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">damnificados </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">came out ahead of the game. Our housekeeper, her husband and four small children had lived in a house under construction as </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"guardians". </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The life of a <i>guardian</i> is a nomadic one. Moving from unfinished home to unfinished home, guarding piles of materials from thieves. It is a hard one with no running water or toilet facilities, no heat ...cold winds rushed through the incomplete walls and rain poured in unfinished rooftops. Andean nights can get as cold as the high 40s or low 50s.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the house they were guarding was washed away my housekeeper and her family lived for a time at one of the tent cities and then were moved to a convent in Cuenca. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eventually they came to live on our property in a snug and charming old adobe house with patio, and outdoor plumbing. In exchange for the house the wife, M, tended the animals, a few cows, goats, sheep, pigs, chickens and <i>cuyes (</i>or guinea pigs which are a sought after delicacy in Cuenca). Her husband worked in construction. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eventually they were given their own cement block home in </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">El Cisne</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">; </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a small settlement built for the <i>Damnificados. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like its namesake the swan, it floated safely, not on water but in the beautiful eucalyptus dotted hills high above the disaster zone.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> It is highly likely that they never would have been able to afford a home like this in their lifetimes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After they moved M continued to work for us for a weekly salary. She developed strong muscular legs from climbing to her own house and plunging rapidly downwards to ours every day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Melida and I developed a friendship over the years and she kept in touch with me after I left Ecuador.</span><br />
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> When the water was eventually released and things started to dry out we went to see our properties. The straw roofed adobe homes of our former neighbours had returned to the earth. Our houses, built from cinder block had survived, muddy but intact. </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> This was thanks in no small part to my husband's tendency to overbuild! He had recently reinforced the corners of the lower house so that he could build a parking area over the roof!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remarked to him at the time, "You know this could be a good selling feature in the future." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And sure enough one day a gentleman approached us wanting to buy the property. He had noticed that it was among the very few that had buildings still standing and solid after the flood. We were all happy about our transaction. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*******************************************************************</span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> In 2003 I stumbled upon this write up on line</span></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ten years ago a
landslide in the mountains of </span><st1:country-region style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;" w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Ecuador</st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
killed over 100 people. It also blocked a mountain river, creating a temporary
flood reservoir that, a month later, burst through the debris and caused
extensive flood damage downstream. The geomorphology of the whole valley was
substantially altered and it become unstable, not helped by continued local
aggregate mining. This paper reports on the delicate, long-term operation to
monitor and stabilise the Paute river valley, including shaving two million m</span><sup style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3</sup><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
off a mountain and installing a novel system of drop structures on the river
bed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="display: none; font-size: 9pt;">Author(s): </span></b><b><span style="display: none; font-size: 9pt;">B. Abril</span></b><sup><span style="display: none; font-size: 9pt;">1</span></sup><span style="display: none; font-size: 9pt;"> | </span><b><span style="display: none; font-size: 9pt;">D. Knight</span></b><sup><span style="display: none; font-size: 9pt;">2</span></sup><span style="display: none; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-left: 108.0pt;">
<span style="display: none; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hide: all;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;">1993</span></b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">
Mar. 29 - "La Josefina" Disaster: Over 30 million cubic meters of the
hill Tamuga slide and block the flow of the Cuenca and Jadán rivers (at the
border of Cañar and Azuay); the largest producer of electricity, the Paute hydroelectric
plant, and surrounding towns are at imminent risk of destruction. Apr. 30 -
Soldiers breach the obstruction at "La Josefina" with anti-tank
rockets; the rushing waters partially destroy the towns of Paute, Méndez, and
other small towns.</span> </span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><strong style="border: 0px; color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 1em; line-height: 10.666666984558105px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Confirmed "instability" in La Josefina, Zone 1</strong></div>
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<span id="result_box" lang="en" style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="en"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">May 15, 2011</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Environment Minister, Marcela Aguiñaga, yesterday toured the La Josefina, located approximately 15 kilometers from Cuenca beside the road</span></span> El Descanso-Paute<span id="result_box" lang="en" style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="en"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">, in this place was the Tamuga hill slippage in March 1993.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Alexandra Quinn, an official of the Ministry of Environment in Cuenca, recalled that the disaster of La Josefina flooded large areas, crops, roads and more, plus the lives that were lost.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">The holder of this ministry in Cuenca, Gustavo Morejon, following the route taken with the technicians, said <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">"the geological situation of the area is quite unstable, it is clear that there are areas that are slowly sliding running and causing increasing vulnerability in the</strong></span></span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">area, this has led to the Declaration of State of Emergency ... the state of vulnerability of populations upstream and downstream is high. "</strong></span></span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">In Zone 1, the Minister Aguiñaga after the walk together with technicians, said that currently there is no aggregate mining, recalled that the decree is in force, warning that this area is free of any quarrying stone material.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">The restriction is for security reasons.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">He also explained about the process, which already started, the expropriation of land under the Public Utility declaration with respect to Zone 1.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">There are <strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">approximately 3,000 hectares of which 500 will be affected.</strong></span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Families will have to leave their properties.</strong></span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">This process is leading the ministry is quite complicated because <strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">expropriation in an area where they have lost the property lines, as happened in 1993, which makes everything more complex, he said.</strong></span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">He stressed that it is not that families accept or not the amount the government will give for their land <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">"is a condemnation proceeding, not a negotiation mechanism."</strong></span></span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">(ACR)</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">$ 300 000</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Secretary of State declared that the expropriation process will take a long time, but that families "are assured that the ministry will pay the fair market value for land that is determined by valuations and land registers."</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Are allocated more than $ 300 000 in court for those people who have been notified come to accept the legal process and that they charge their values.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Not yet started the expropriation of any land, Aguiñaga said, because they do not match the cadastre or the boundaries that existed at the time that people took to the real situation.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Therefore, they are required first to perform planimetric survey studies and other processes.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">To date 275 have cadastral parcels.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.elmercurio.com.ec/280411-confirman-" rel="nofollow" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; color: #3c78a7; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">http://www.elmercurio.com.ec/280411-confirman-</a>“inestabilidad”-en-la-josefina-zona-1.html</div>
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<a href="http://api.ning.com/files/Yq0FTTSEegy8zkKcb4wQ*ef4Z4rvUZuH03wfHGfpnjlWO4bkCHhVrhRyJ3go3A84Kpnd45oa34O0PVFDLIEi1rnVNr7xQz1J/Ecuadormegaslide2.jpg" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; color: #e0a00b; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_self"><img class="align-full" src="http://api.ning.com/files/Yq0FTTSEegy8zkKcb4wQ*ef4Z4rvUZuH03wfHGfpnjlWO4bkCHhVrhRyJ3go3A84Kpnd45oa34O0PVFDLIEi1rnVNr7xQz1J/Ecuadormegaslide2.jpg?width=721" style="border: 0px; clear: both !important; display: block !important; font-size: 1em; height: auto; margin: 5px 0px 10px !important; max-width: 644px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" width="721" /></a><span class="long_text" id="result_box" lang="en" style="border: 0px; color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="en">Area Tamuga and</span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px;"> </span><span class="long_text" id="result_box" lang="en" style="border: 0px; color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="en">Zhizhi</span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px;"> </span><span class="long_text" id="result_box" lang="en" style="border: 0px; color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="en"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">permanence is not recorded daily of inhabitants.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">The landowners live outside the town</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Josefina grounds of the delay compensation without registration</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">May 13, 2011</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">An area of Josephine in surveillance, but the progress of stabilization depends on the compensation of the properties.</strong></span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">The stage of expropriation and compensation for <strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">the land surrounding hills Tamuga</strong></span></span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px;"> </span><strong style="border: 0px; color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="long_text" id="result_box" lang="en" style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="en">and Zhizhi</span></strong><span style="color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px;"> </span><span class="long_text" id="result_box" lang="en" style="border: 0px; color: #454545; font-family: 'Gill Sans', 'Gill Sans MT', Gill, 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 10.666666984558105px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="en"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">has remained static since most land ownership has not been legalized.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">According to Gustavo Morejon, regional director of the Ministry of Environment.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">The grounds are an inheritance from grandparents and parents who have never been legally registered.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Besides this drawback, coupled with the absence of boundaries that makes the calculation of compensation for the fair value of each item.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">To do this, carry out cadastral surveys to define the area of land and property owners in the area there.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">The purpose of this is to cancel Prosesa real prices and keep families feel cheated by selling their properties.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Morejon said they will open a technical office in the canton Paute to have greater accessibility to the site and expedite the process.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Stabilization Plan</strong></span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Carlos Fernandez de Cordova, manager of the Management Board of Water Basin Paute CGPaute said that to start the Master Plan Stabilization of Tamuga hill, need authorization authorities intervened to protect the area one of the</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Josefina.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Such authorization must wait until the Regional Directorate of the Ministry of Environment completed the expropriation and compensation of land, said Cordova.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">The <strong style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">stabilization work is due to the continuing risk of another landslide in the area,</strong> especially if it allows the exploitation of mines still in place.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">In recent years, investment was more than four million dollars, he said CGPaute manager.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">María Dolores, a former resident of Hacienda Tomebamba sector, said that in the disaster and lost her husband sold their land, so far from where he now lives, but has relatives in remote areas of the hills.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">However, requests that if they were to expropriate the property of the few people who live within the risk area, they cancel the corresponding value for them to move to another space.</span> <span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">(OEM)</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><a href="http://www.elmercurio.com.ec/280096-predios-de-la-josefina-sin-registro-retrasa-indemnizaciones.html" rel="nofollow" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; color: #3c78a7; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: static !important; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">http://www.elmercurio.com.ec/280096-predios-de-la-josefina-sin-regi...</a></span></span><br />
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Now it is 2014, Twenty one years later and I am reading all about it again in Gringo Tree a publication written for and by Gringos - expats who now live in Cuenca Ecuador.<br />
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Here is a clickable link to that article<br />
<a href="http://www.cuencahighlife.com/post/2014/03/29/Josefina-landslide-disater-of-1993-could-see-a-repeat-experts-warn-if-stabilization-work-doesnt-continue.aspx">Twenty-first Anniversary of the Josefina disaster</a><br />
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down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-25663633399449430072014-01-08T07:00:00.003-05:002014-01-08T07:00:23.856-05:00The Way We Were? Saved by a Worm.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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First an apology. Somehow a draft I was working on got published before its time. This is what I was working towards and if you have time to read it great. I hope you will find it interesting.<br />
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Now the blog post<br />************************************************************************<br />Giving back to the land, going back to the land...all things that fascinate me. <br />
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A friend sent me a couple of articles today about the use of Red Wiggler Worms in Central America.<br />
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It got me thinking about just how we got to the place where third world countries whose fields had been naturally productive and health giving for centuries had to now be taught about the use of worms for compost. <br />
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Once my former neighbours, born and raised in the countryside in Ecuador, were helping us weed the alfalfa crop. The wife came across a gigantic, glistening worm. Had to be about a foot long . She pulled it out of the ground and casually tossed it onto the chain link fence where it wriggled helplessly, drying and dying in the Ecuatorial sun.<br />
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"And all they eat is earth," she said by way of instructing me.<br />
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I immediately went over, gently disentangled it from the hot metal fence, laid it tenderly into some soft cool earth out of harm's way. <br />
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She stared blankly as I said, "They eat dead leaves and other vegetable matter that has dropped to the ground. They turn that into a rich earth that helps you grow your crops. They are your best friends in the fields."<br />
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She and her husband stared at the crazy gringa, in total disbelief. I am sure it gave them lots to talk and laugh about with their ten children when they got home; stories to tell in town as they bought chemicals to put on their corn field.<br />
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Talk about taking something for granted. Worms are something to be casually cut with your shovel, crushed under your shoe, or if they are lucky, just ignored. They have no value unless it might be for fishing bait, right? Wrong. I have written about this before under my post entitled <strong style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.63636302947998px; line-height: 17.27272605895996px; text-align: justify;">Better Worms and Gardens - Part I - Vermicomposting - published in October 2009.</strong><br />
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I got to thinking about how we had come to this, to a point where we had so terribly depleted the life giving earth. Where we had so little understanding of our part in the cycle of life. What had gone wrong?<br />
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Today I saw it all so clearly. Until recent history, fields everywhere were tilled by hand or assisted by oxen, after harvest crops were ploughed under, chickens and other animals roamed freely and acted as a natural insecticide as they picked off bugs to supplement their diet, people used the fields as a bathroom, kitchen waste was thrown on the fields as well.<br />
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When Progress and her Sister Hygiene arrived things changed dramatically. In stead of oxen, tractors tilled the fields, producing pollution instead of rich poop. People made their daily deposits to an outhouse instead of a field. Chickens and other domesticated animals were confined instead of roaming freely and their waste was collected into putrefying piles buried far from where it would do any good.<br />
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In the past, when small quantities of human and animal waste were deposited randomly over the fields it was not a problem as it was quickly taken care of by.... bugs and bacteria and most of all worms. <br />
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The household waste that was thrown on the fields was no longer totally biodegradable spoiled vegetables, fruits and grains. People had progressed, become sophisticated. They were using non biodegradable disposable diapers, processed foods in plastic and cans. But they still threw them on the fields.<br />
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The land, starved for food now, could no longer produce bountiful, vitamin rich crops. The yield was smaller, and weaker, susceptible to diseases and pests. Something had to be done.<br />
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Enter the chemical companies with their products that were going to increase the yields with one simple fix. And they had just the thing to kill those pesky bugs as well.<br />
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Poor people scraped up enough to buy chemical fertilizers and insecticides and were rewarded with bumper crops. It was a miracle! This continued for a few years until the land became exhausted and used up. <br />
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he chemicals did not FEED the land, only made it easier for the plants to take up more minerals, depleting it even further. More and more chemicals were needed to try to replicate the results obtained initially.<br />
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Now at last there is a movement back to, not the way we were, but to something that combines the modern way of living with a cheap and effective solution; one that will clean up land fills and put vitality back into the land. <br />
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That lowly, unloved creature, the earthworm! She is finally getting the respect she deserves. And Pachamama is so proud of her child.<br />
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<a href="http://www.ticotimes.net/More-news/News-Briefs/Fighting-poverty-with-90-million-California-red-worms_Sunday-January-05-2014">http://www.ticotimes.net/More-news/News-Briefs/Fighting-poverty-with-90-million-California-red-worms_Sunday-January-05-2014</a></div>
down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-22870724554080449792013-08-11T09:07:00.001-04:002013-12-27T19:08:36.911-05:00A comment I made on the Frugally Sustainable Blog August 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Even though I check before I post there are always errors. Bugs me. So I am reposting this on my own blog and correcting the errors. Hopefully I get them all this time.</div>
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The article on Homesteading I was responding to can be found here:</div>
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<a href="http://frugallysustainable.com/2013/08/modern-homesteading-and-sustainable-living-romance-vs-reality/#comment-23210">http://frugallysustainable.com/2013/08/modern-homesteading-and-sustainable-living-romance-vs-reality/#comment-23210</a></div>
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This is my slightly revised comment </div>
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I am a long time follower of your Facebook page and use many of the recipes from your blog.<br />
I seldom make comments but my hat is off to you for your honesty. Homesteading is hard. Being different is hard. I suppose that is why most people refuse to understand how vitally important it is to protect Mother earth.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
In 1990 I was transported from big city life in Canada to a small farm in Ecuador. For ten years I knew great bliss in communing with neighbouring farmers, learning their methods of planting (for example the Three Sister method of planting corn, squash and beans), shearing sheep and castrating animals that were all done in accordance with the moon cycles. Most ploughing was done with a team of oxen although tractors were appearing now and then.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
For ten years I derived a lot of pleasure learning about medicinal herbs from a relative (by marriage) who is a curandera, providing our own fresh milk and cream, fresh vegetables and herbs for the table. For protein we raised beef, goat, sheep, chickens and guinea pig (a delicacy in Ecuador).</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
Now I am home again with a small property in a village setting where I strive to grow a lot of my own food, edible and medicinal herbs and am exploring the possibility of solar power. Fortunately I live in a rural community where I can fill in the gaps by buying at the farm gate from people I know.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
There are some who think I am nuts when I extol the virtues of red wiggler worms for composting my kitchen waste, make my own peanut and almond butters, laundry soap, shampoo, lotions and balms, cleaners and simple remedies.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
I wish I could explain to them the a pleasure and satisfaction you get from understanding the web of life and knowing that every insect, bird, snake and weed in your garden has a purpose and should not be killed. That varying your planting methods will encourage beneficial insects who will take care of the ones you may not favour as much.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
I wish they could know the satisfaction of scratching a hole in a hill of potatoes and finding those tiny new potatoes, or the feel of when a tomato is ripe enough to drop into your hand with a gentle nudge.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
You rock. I know you will reach your goals…and look like a million dollars with all the healthy fresh air and exercise.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
And I hope you are reaching people who would not otherwise think about these things. I share a lot of your posts with friends in that hope.</div>
</div>
<div class="reply" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px;">
Andrea replied<br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
What an amazing story Jane! You are an inspiration and I couldn’t agree with you more. All of what you mentioned represents to me the human desire of interconnectedness that is growing as our culture begins to relearn and accept ancient ways of growing, cooking, and healing. I am encouraged by the slight shift away from consumption and control as we move closer toward a relationship of coexistence with the Earth and animals of all kinds!</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
It is my hope as well that people like us continue to encourage one another on our journey toward sustainability — all the while leading by example!</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
The key to fuelling the fire of this trend…our continued willingness to see nature as nature is.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px;">
Thank you again Jane and blessings on you.</div>
<br /></div>
</div>
down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-70611865296785698052013-05-11T11:10:00.002-04:002013-05-12T17:29:07.030-04:00I can only weep<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/video/rock-center/51768274#51768274">http://www.nbcnews.com/video/rock-center/51768274#51768274</a><br />
<br />
Click to go to the 10 minute movie about my beautiful rain forest and its peoples in Ecuador's Amazon.<br />
<br />
I am sick at heart at the thought of this great loss that I. merely by driving a car and heating a home am a part of.<br />
<br />
And it cannot be stopped.<br />
<br />
I can only weep at my inability to make a difference.<br />
<br /></div>
down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-79193617037187746262012-12-15T18:24:00.001-05:002012-12-15T18:24:15.984-05:00 Dayuma<a href="http://www.teleamazonas.com/index.php/nuestra-programacion/actualidad/dia-a-dia/16233-dayuma#">Teleamazonas Noticias, Deportes y Entretenimiento - Dayuma</a>:
<a href="https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/pengoopmcjnbflcjbmoeodbmoflcgjlk" style="font-size: 13px;">'via Blog this'</a><br />
<br />
This is Dayuma the first Huaorani to be contacted.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-89996932398505838712012-04-07T19:17:00.001-04:002012-04-07T19:18:21.767-04:00Healing in the garden<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">I wrote this article when I thought I could make some money writing articles for Helium. It did get rated 6 out of 66 articles on the same subject but it was just too darned difficult to make any money on that site so I have decided to use my articles myself. There will be no money in that either but at least they are in my own collection.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 18pt;"> </span></div>
<h2 style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 19pt;">Memoirs: Healing in the garden, how my garden
helped me<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">POSTED </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #333333; font-size: 11pt;">June 03, 2008 <strong>Last
Updated</strong>: June 09, 2008</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">When I was younger I didn't
pay much attention to the "weeds" around me. I had been taught that
they were just annoying entities that interfered with more valuable things like
flowers and vegetables. They had to be dealt with severely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">Scenes of me helping my
dad(both of us without masks)mix up the noxious chemicals that were required to
keep his lawn and garden insect and weed-free, are like trailers from a horror
movie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">My dad was a renowned gardener
almost till the day he died. But I wonder how he would be perceived now. Would
he refuse to recognize the dangers and far-reaching negative effects of the
chemicals he used to control his unwelcome garden visitors? Or would he embrace
the new/old knowledge of letting nature help him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">After leaving home and
broadening my horizons it was with a sense of delight and wonder I became
gradually aware that there were other ways to deal with so-called pests and
weeds. Even more amazing was the fact that many of them might be embraced; like
doctors for their healing powers or friends for their helpful ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">I read voraciously and
extolled the beauty and virtue of lady bugs, earthworms, dandelions, chick weed
and companion planting. Still, friends and family looked on me as a love-able
but benighted eccentric who was to be tolerated but never taken seriously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">When I became more militant
about avoiding pesticides and cultivating helpful insects and birds by making
the habitat welcoming, people changed the subject. They desperately hoped to
steer me away from yet another diatribe on the decline of songbirds and native
plants.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">Anyone who would listen got my
speech on grackles and starlings. They may not be the prettiest or most
melodious bird on the planet, but they make up for it by eating their weight in
bugs and caterpillars every day. I explained that they were far better garden
allies than the beloved robin redbreast who busied himself with eradicating the
life-giving, soil-enhancing earthworms from their garden patch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Several years ago I moved to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Ecuador</st1:place></st1:country-region> where I spent many happy
hours conversing with the farm ladies who still knew the ways of herbs and
natural healing. It is common to see the ladies of the house returning from
open air markets with their baskets filled to the brim with fresh local
produce. Tucked into a corner is always a colorful bunch of "montes".
This is a selection of "weeds" known for their curative and
health-giving powers. Families would use one or more of these fresh herbs for
whatever ailed them or simply make a refreshing tea out of a few of them. With
sugar and lemon added it was a drink that excelled any store bought cola in
flavor and certainly in healthful properties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">As I learned more about these beautiful and
useful plants I started my own herb garden so I would always have them at hand.
Now I am back in North America I still can grow many of the common ones prized
by the ladies of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Ecuador</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
Most, like Borage, Lemon balm, Valerian and Chamomile are perennials in my zone
5 garden, while beautiful deep purple Prince's Feather can be grown from seed
each year. Lemon grass and Lemon Verbena are an experiment this year and will
have to come into my warm dry living room for the winter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">While we have many varieties of Mallow like
Hollyhock and Hibiscus I have not seen the tree sized one that saved me from
blood poisoning in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Ecuador</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">After a minor surgery to have a toenail
removed I came down with a virulent infection. As the infection spread so did
my panic and I forgot helpful plants all around me in my haste to get to a
pharmacy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">Many dollars, ointments and antibiotics later
the infection was spreading up my toe and into my foot. The swelling and pain
were excruciating and frightening. Then a neighbor pointed at a large tree
growing by the side of my patio and said, "What about this mallow here?
Have you tried it?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">I had known that mallow was good for coughs
and bronchitis but she explained that it also had antibacterial properties. We
brewed up a few flowers in a cup of water and used it as a wash for my
long-suffering toe. Next morning, like magic there was no more swelling, no
more redness and no more pain!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">During my stay in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Ecuador</st1:place></st1:country-region> I had the privilege of
living for a week with the Huaorani Indians on the River Shiripuno. My thirst
for knowledge of healing plants was only whetted by trips through the teeming
jungle while my friend pointed out one or another tree, bush or vine that his
tribe used in all walks of their lives. I learned of the incredible properties
of the Sangre de Drago (Dragon's Blood) tree. This tree, when nicked with a
machete, bleeds a red sap that looks like blood. The sap can be used internally
and externally and is one of the major health aids available to the Amazon
tribes. The sap can be rubbed in the hand or fingers to produce a whitish paste
that is then applied to wounds and bites or skin infections.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">A garden is not just full of healing and
healthful plants. It IS a healer in and of itself; a balm for the wounded soul.
Here, with your hands deep in the earth you can forget your troubles for
awhile. And as you smell the fragrance of the flowers and watch the fruits of
your labor burst forth there is a great sense of satisfaction and peace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">Sadly as our modern life encroaches on the
farm and the jungle and asphalt encroaches on our very garden spaces, the lore
and the plants themselves are being lost. What a cornucopia of cures we have
right at our feet if we only know how to use these wonderful healing plants. It
is a credit to the plants themselves that in spite of generations of us trying
to eradicate them they still persist. Perhaps they will endure even this
assault.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 8.0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt;">So please, before you pull that
"weed" or squash that insect, grab a book and see if you are about to
kill a doctor or a friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-11283111278884567622012-03-15T11:23:00.000-04:002012-03-15T11:23:09.764-04:00Peacefully, at their home in Ontario.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It is with some sadness that I write today to tell you of the demise of my friends, the red wiggler worms.<br />
<br />
In previous posts I have extolled their virtues, their fecundity, their extensive knowledge gleaned through reading discarded newspapers, their graduation to University, their managing of my financial affairs as they slurped up my bills and obliterated sensitive information before it could fall into the wrong hands. All that AND provided me with a never ending supply of rich organic, non burning fertilizer. Well, never ending till now.<br />
<br />
For awhile I was overwhelmed with worms. I held worm seminars in the hope of passing on knowledge and surplus worms.This was not successful. I sold thousands, I traded more thousands for useful items like rain barrels.<br />
<br />
Still I could not stem the red tide of worms. I was growing more unhappy with the job of lifting the bins to feed and clean them. <br />
<br />
It could have been my negative vibes that killed them but more likely it was because I did not clean them as often or put clean bedding in each time I fed them. This probably set up the unpleasant living conditions that led to their demise?<br />
<br />
Some months ago I noticed their numbers dwindling and eventually I eliminated two of the three bins that once were overflowing with pink wriggling life. At first I admit I was relieved not to have to lift that heavy third bin that perched on top of two others.<br />
<br />
I did not give up hope for another few months. I figured there were eggs that would hatch. There were tiny young worms that would grow to adult hood and the colony would thrive once again as it had for about 5 years.<br />
<br />
So I kept up feeding and the waste disappeared but still no worms were evident. How could this be? <br /><br />
Then I remembered reading that worms do not actually "eat" the garbage. They do not have teeth and cannot scrape or gnaw their way through it. <br />
<br />
Neither do they require lime in the form of eggshells for their craw (???) and to help them with digestion as some sites will tell you. This in fact is only to help de acidify the bin....however even that has been called into question as eggshells dissolve so slowly.<br />
<br />
The job of breaking down the vegetable matter is done by beneficial bacteria and microbes that prepare a delicious soup that the worms then slurp up. To my knowledge microbes and bacteria don't possess teeth either. I do not know the mechanics of what they do but assume it involves some chemical reaction causing putrefaction. I confess I am too lazy to look it up.<br />
<br />
So....I think I will continue with this experiment and just keep adding the refuse to the bin and see what happens. I have become hooked on that wonderful fertilizer. I much prefer just burying kitchen refuse in a handy bin than schlepping out through snowbanks to the compost pile or putting it in a garbage bag that has to be taken to land fill....we have no garbage pick up here.<br />
<br />
Have you ever noticed when you are buying a car you are told it maintains its value and that is why the price is so high? It will have great resale value. But when you try to sell the same car you are told that that particular car is no longer in demand.<br />
<br />
Well the same goes for worms and probably lots of other things.<br />
<br />
Worms don't come cheap when you are trying to buy them. They do however go cheap when you are trying to sell them. No one else was as foolish as me to pay $50.00 for a pound of them. I had to let them go as low as $35.00 a pound just to put a dent in their unchecked population explosion.<br />
<br />
<br />
But my question is ....Have we been scammed by these worm purveyors? Do they know that the worms are just decoration... not a necessary part of the equation?<br />
<br />
I know that in the outside world worms do more than assist in breaking down vegetable matte they also aerate the holes as they create their burrows and drag vegetable matter deeper into the soil. Or so we are told.<br />
<br />
The longer I live the less I believe any more.<br />
<br />
<br />
I will let you know in a future post how my wormless composting experiment proceeds.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-86735109305561547012011-02-27T09:18:00.000-05:002011-02-27T09:18:47.332-05:00My Favorite Naturalist<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I subscribe to a weekly newsletter written by Jim Conrad. His very interesting bio can be found at<br />
<a href="http://www.backyardnature.net/j/jim.htm">http://www.backyardnature.net/j/jim.htm</a><br />
<br />
In addition to his in depth information and profiles of birds, insects, animals and plants I look forward to Jim's often searingly poignant personal essays.<br />
<br />
This week's piece touched me on several levels, the sensual beauty in simple things, the process of aging and the sense of loss that we have all experienced. Hoping you can relate to and enjoy it too I quote it here:<br />
**************<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<pre style="line-height: 17px; white-space: normal;">LETTUCE FEELINGS
One daily job I look forward to is that of supplying a
big bouquet of freshly picked leaf lettuce for the
kitchen, such as that seen at
<a href="http://www.backyardnature.net/n/11/110227lt.jpg" style="color: #0068cf; cursor: pointer; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">http://www.backyardnature.net/n/11/110227lt.jpg</a>
Picking the lettuce is a sensuous experience. Chilly,
early-morning dew on the leaves wets my hands. A
lettucy fragrance blossoms around me as I break off
the leaves, feeling in my fingertips the faint but
fatal snaps of petioles yielding to my force. As I
return to the hut to wash the leaves I can't take my
eyes off the visually pleasing essay before me, one
commenting on the theme of simple but crinkly-edged
glowings of yellow greenness contrasting with interior
black shadowiness.
Sometimes it's hard to hand over the bouquet to the
kitchen staff. By the time I get to the kitchen door
I'm sort of bonded with that bunch of lettuce, even to
the point of identifying with it.
For, when I'm picking the lettuce I'm doing that slow-
simmering kind of reflecting on life everyone does
when engaged in non-thinking jobs. And the lettuce's
radiant yellow-greenness emerging from silky, deep-
rooted blackness, and even its odor of bruised
herbage, somehow strike me as exactly matching how
I've been feeling lately -- not to mention how each
leaf petiole gives that little snap when I pick it,
like the thousand little losses one feels every day
while aging, leaving behind hair, hearing, sight,
strength, memory and more, and sometimes just plain
giving up on this or that.
Looking at the lettuce in my hands is in many ways
like taking a good look at my own feelings.
And, the destiny of that lettuce... I'll bet that most
leaves get thrown away -- a bug-eaten hole on this
one, that leaf a little too pale, this one with a
small tear, that one with a brown spot, one after
another just not good enough for a fancy restaurant.
Well, if we're developing a metaphor here, at this
point it would be easy to overdo it.
But, sometimes I do wish I knew what happens to what I
bring to the kitchen door. I wonder what the use is of
such fragile, translucing, yellow-green, crushed-
herbage, baroque-fringed gifts... if the one you're
giving them to mostly just throws them away.
*****</pre><br />
<br />
Enjoy your day</div>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-62734672486077344422011-02-26T21:50:00.000-05:002011-02-26T21:50:46.403-05:00Spring Is In My Hair…<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">...of<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"> course I mean in the air ! And spring is in my step. It is not the view from my window of slushy brown roads nor the messages left months ago by dogs on my lawn that has elicited this feeling. </span><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Nay. 'Twas a newsletter from Garden Guru Doug Green. Reading his Perennial Garden Design section caused a fine perspiration to break out on my troubled brow. If only I had had this helpful advice when I was a young gardener. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdOe6rq0YNnQ7NS76QabthKpTQw2pVJLI2LXVUPO1Fcp_0EBSCFoTfhY0xsG-RqIZFtKBTPYbt7EFSiMskgVGKYZ_nroZwiZ8Oy1P4hpAPg7Nn9Wkxh7t5oIt4Fw-3XpF3ETV18fXEk6p/s1600/100_1113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdOe6rq0YNnQ7NS76QabthKpTQw2pVJLI2LXVUPO1Fcp_0EBSCFoTfhY0xsG-RqIZFtKBTPYbt7EFSiMskgVGKYZ_nroZwiZ8Oy1P4hpAPg7Nn9Wkxh7t5oIt4Fw-3XpF3ETV18fXEk6p/s320/100_1113.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">My garden is shaded by several venerable pines and some not so large maples. These gnarled trees have withstood near hurricane winds, been bowed under the weight of snow and lashed by rain. Far be it from me to cut them down in their prime. So, this old tree hugger will just work around them. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkQKPC3CLgB7_NZT7DhNh08OeSQkAoFrUYWtpJrpV2Pliw4E4RXAf1xQQ7upqR4th-arhHru19HOCaWV9VFvv_2CZdQa1JphQMJE5fCtdbZVxPENKgCuN5iu_LpCDMfqwaxq6Fquoxdji/s1600/100_0319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkQKPC3CLgB7_NZT7DhNh08OeSQkAoFrUYWtpJrpV2Pliw4E4RXAf1xQQ7upqR4th-arhHru19HOCaWV9VFvv_2CZdQa1JphQMJE5fCtdbZVxPENKgCuN5iu_LpCDMfqwaxq6Fquoxdji/s320/100_0319.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;">Besides if there were no trees where would the fairies play? That is Miss Grimm on the right. She loves to read in the shade...usually tales by the Brothers Grimm.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;">But in my enthusiastic new property owner phase I dug up a large strip along the driveway and under the trees with an eye to planting shade loving plants, ferns, hosta and their ilk.<br />
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</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;">My first hint that things might not go well was discovering the red roots of ancient peonies struggling there... but I did not let that deter me! Oh, no I moved the peony roots to the front bed where they would get more sun and blithely planted shade lovers under the trees. The peonies took off and never looked back to the hardships of their former life.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">The new plants may have loved shade but they also loved to drink. Who doesn't? I needed several myself by the time I got through with this travail.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkNmjVDWuTopMGGoWTDAZjIHZHkj6qWsFzeXMsF40CAq272MRC1SW3ZcxdytDrkkaE6yJE060lmw1APM-1Gg5fljOTjRfC3ZX6-ZyGbpkL6iGN6QZMZJDSIzFv_MsrvwyRhDOK8_MhZxo/s1600/100_0525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkNmjVDWuTopMGGoWTDAZjIHZHkj6qWsFzeXMsF40CAq272MRC1SW3ZcxdytDrkkaE6yJE060lmw1APM-1Gg5fljOTjRfC3ZX6-ZyGbpkL6iGN6QZMZJDSIzFv_MsrvwyRhDOK8_MhZxo/s320/100_0525.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Year one</span></b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">: Dig holes, fill with organic material, plant shade loving plants. Easy Peasy. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;">Haul many, many 10 gallon buckets (@ 50 pounds each) of rain water from 100 feet away - daily. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Result?</b> Lost ten pounds, had very long arms and shade loving plants that </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;">appeared happy that first year.</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_PUefdBD2Bo1ia46om_HcrxaDIknGwSEJKyVywiKPdPAfqM8gpC6RmNYZZlo4tChwoQ3XjyA10il_vA7qFFpdtrEiiKZS7OQufU8bmerfyBqpobPZiGwrM9RFwJRU8V5WMNSfoc743zV/s1600/and+they+took+another+load+away+and+left+it+here.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_PUefdBD2Bo1ia46om_HcrxaDIknGwSEJKyVywiKPdPAfqM8gpC6RmNYZZlo4tChwoQ3XjyA10il_vA7qFFpdtrEiiKZS7OQufU8bmerfyBqpobPZiGwrM9RFwJRU8V5WMNSfoc743zV/s320/and+they+took+another+load+away+and+left+it+here.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Year two</span></b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">: Dig up languishing shade lovers, remove many fine tree roots that have galloped over to the clumps of rich organic material. On the theory that if there is plenty to go around the trees won't hog it all, dig in lots more organic material, re-install plants, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;">mulch heavily</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;">. Continue hauling rain water. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"><b>Result?</b> Exuberant trees that are now taller and more shade casting than before. Perky but puny plants, knuckles that scrape the ground when gardener is standing upright.</span><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cDcWTUgflUzbsLDDlk0IQwjX6A14dPSHAjE_6-tkTwlgduE7z_qCLSsny_SBhukT84wG4fMm1k9a51IHo6_nhmmki11fI2YvqDw1Btc0yu5aubjQDC1QbfGK164RPqymnfDkTc_5gibh/s1600/bleeding+heart+May+07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cDcWTUgflUzbsLDDlk0IQwjX6A14dPSHAjE_6-tkTwlgduE7z_qCLSsny_SBhukT84wG4fMm1k9a51IHo6_nhmmki11fI2YvqDw1Btc0yu5aubjQDC1QbfGK164RPqymnfDkTc_5gibh/s320/bleeding+heart+May+07.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Year three</span></b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">: Buy longer hoses to connect to the outside faucet. Wrestle the permanently kinked hoses across lawn and driveway. Attach them to old soaker hoses wound amongst the plants. Alternate between rain water and well water. Spend hours pouring water down the throats of those ungrateful little bleeders, the shade loving plants. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><b>Result?</b> Well developed biceps. Knuckles healing nicely.<br />
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</o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Year four</span></b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">: Single handedly install an elaborate watering system sold by a major <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Ottawa</st1:city></st1:place> based tool and garden company. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Result?</b> Large Credit Card bills, </span><span style="color: black;">m</span>iles of black hose and thousands of gallons of well water later the plants were looking great. As were the trees. My arms had returned to their normal length, knuckles healed, biceps no longer aching. The water pump for the well? Toast!<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Year five</span></b><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">: Ask Doug how best to care for shade loving plants under trees. His advice? DON’T even try. Hang head in defeat and begin the daunting task of moving about a hundred plants out from under the trees and over to the other side of the driveway. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><b>Result?</b> Less shade and less root competition but plants still puny from the stress they suffered in years one, two, three and four. Some never did recover.</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Bottom line is my advice to those of you who are only as smart as I am: </span><b>Do your homework before you spend money and time to design an un-maintainable garden.</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">You can catch a lot of great advice from Doug Green by clicking on this link</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="http://www.gardening-tips-perennials.com/perennialdesigns.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+PerennialFlowerGardeningTips+%28Perennial+Flower+Gardening+Tips%29">perennial garden design</a><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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</div></div>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-45368455528087636752010-11-19T13:02:00.000-05:002010-11-19T13:02:22.048-05:00It's all over but the eating<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The following was written in August, filed and forgotten till now......</span>..</b><br />
<b>Summer's officially ended but no one told the weather man. This weekend is shaping up to be a warm one. I am hoping that the spirit will move me to do some last minute garden clean ups, spread some mulch and just generally get ready to hunker down.</b><br />
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<b>But the purpose of this blog is to brag about my bounty. I know ...bragging is not nice ...but there is no other word for what I am about to do.</b><br />
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<b>Although I wouldn't say that I had a bumper crop of anything considering the amount of plants I put in I am very pleased with the quality of the produce.</b><br />
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<b>Potatoes</b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxtwy8rbA9w1cuSsEQGxzTpT7g_7M5-XNoPywK3tpedXBTcqtEPWgkcKS1DOslwJaOlx8lAZb7W4uud4kN_ANsAV6MbV-0rS-Zom_oDcUwEwMkZDAup945h4IUC0RVMy_cC73i5dBlbyA/s1600/100_5995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxtwy8rbA9w1cuSsEQGxzTpT7g_7M5-XNoPywK3tpedXBTcqtEPWgkcKS1DOslwJaOlx8lAZb7W4uud4kN_ANsAV6MbV-0rS-Zom_oDcUwEwMkZDAup945h4IUC0RVMy_cC73i5dBlbyA/s320/100_5995.jpg" width="320" /></b></a><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>I planted shallowly in a trench filled with pine needles and old leaves and covered them with straw. Although a lot of the straw seeds sprouted the clean up wasn't too hard. </b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>I was able to just lift the straw and take a few potatoes all season long. I even had enough to share with neighbours which is great. The potatoes come out nice and clean this way. </b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>I didn't like the woody quality they had when they got much bigger than the ones shown at the left so I harvested them earlier.</b></div><b><br />
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<b>I had roughly 50 potato plants and probably got about 50 to 60 pounds of potatoes from them. I think the low yield was due to the close planting. But I would definitely buy Red Chieftain seed potatoes again.</b><br />
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<b>The conditions were great, lots of rain fall and I didn't see a single potato bug or other diseases. The slugs were just moving in as I took the last batch out. Better luck next time slugs - NOT!</b><br />
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<b>While they were drying in the breeze I noticed a few bites taken out of them. I moved them to a chair but still found some were being stolen. The culprit was identified as the resident chipmunk. With back legs kicking furiously and front legs shoving mightily he was trying to get a good-sized potato into his burrow in the Half Moon garden. So I took them all inside with the exception of a pile of the really tiny ones which I left on the porch. They were quickly snatched up. I am hoping this will deter him from taking my tulips.</b><br />
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<b>Tomatoes</b><br />
<b>I planted a mixture of 32 tomato plants; Opalka, Box Car Willy, Sweet Million, Roma, Belgian Giant and some that I can't remember the names of.</b><br />
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<b>Early on, in spite of changing the location of the plants from last year, they still contracted early blight. At least you still get tomatoes even though the plant has lots of dead brown leaves around the bottom. Due to watering problem or too much rain some showed a bit of blossom end rot and cat face.</b><br />
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<b>Too late it occurred to me that the disease was probably carried on the tomato cages and even my shovel. This year I will disinfect those before I put anything away.</b><br />
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<b>I had approximately 100 pounds of tomatoes from those plants. Not a bumper crop but enough for myself and friends. No insects except the slugs and centipedes at the end of the season.</b><br />
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<b>Throughout the season I would pick about 10 pounds of tomatoes every couple of days. These would be quartered and seeded and thrown into my crock pot where they simmered overnight with the top off. By morning I had three pounds of nice thick sauce. I spooned this into 4 cup plastic bags which I lay on a cookie sheet in the freezer. These nice flat envelopes store well in the freezer.</b><br />
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<b>Of course I have breakfasted on tomato sandwiches every day since July. My cat Reg always demands his toast and tomato so we both will miss these sandwiches when all the tomatoes ripening in my oven are gone.</b><br />
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<b>Pictured at the left and right is Belgian Giant which has become a real favorite. It was a very large sprawling plant, didn't produce many tomatoes but they were huge, juicy, low acid, low seed with a gorgeous rosy pink flesh. Here is one weighing in at almost a pound and a half or two thick sandwiches worth. </b><br />
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<b>I keep the green and not so ripe tomatoes in a flat cardboard fruit box on one or two shelves in the oven. Easy to remove if I get moved to bake something. They ripen slowly and beautifully in the dark of the oven. Here is the last of them picked early because of a threatened frost which did not arrive.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mpKmdIkthtworfWFnWz403vu3NBsEdwwZZ4csYLRtcoXmKkPL-_EevFNMhdpWoDlX_mYfn_p9Ou2uQXekz9zVBIVL2DToKNNHWcrJCjVHtSROEMY_YGNfr71JV9PWZIIW3NMoGpJG1Yv/s1600/Last+of+the+red+hot+tomatoes+for+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mpKmdIkthtworfWFnWz403vu3NBsEdwwZZ4csYLRtcoXmKkPL-_EevFNMhdpWoDlX_mYfn_p9Ou2uQXekz9zVBIVL2DToKNNHWcrJCjVHtSROEMY_YGNfr71JV9PWZIIW3NMoGpJG1Yv/s200/Last+of+the+red+hot+tomatoes+for+2010.jpg" width="200" /></b></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheakziXq3mMBxkx4AIECqeDvkoUGBQXL7RKbQI_PuMf4KnrQAknpmroXUBzqKEXFFkktjv_7qEOsiTzDf4EXSgYJ969yrxERV511rxnuv-6fk5yYeMyz4tnXV9TjhTOsUlUg4C0FXBdOXX/s1600/100_5988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheakziXq3mMBxkx4AIECqeDvkoUGBQXL7RKbQI_PuMf4KnrQAknpmroXUBzqKEXFFkktjv_7qEOsiTzDf4EXSgYJ969yrxERV511rxnuv-6fk5yYeMyz4tnXV9TjhTOsUlUg4C0FXBdOXX/s200/100_5988.jpg" width="200" /></b></a><b>The Opalka were wonderful this year but the Roma were the pits; very small and dropped off the vine in the slightest breeze. I am not sure why some of them are yellow or green at the stem end. Could be some disease.</b><br />
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<b>None of the seeds I had saved from previous years came up but I tried saving again this year.</b><br />
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<b>Cucumber</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-EvCL7WryZxEpAq8BpGyeYRMb9zhmtAJ_KsohgRTjX00hiKiKQ4wNKbgE_sFfXJ_yxHRrIrz878Ye-AxExfEq1pF_hyPR11vZj9Wi0hd38koHS-CGatIHC4TYU7Vmh_CljutQocnAdoA/s1600/100_6002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-EvCL7WryZxEpAq8BpGyeYRMb9zhmtAJ_KsohgRTjX00hiKiKQ4wNKbgE_sFfXJ_yxHRrIrz878Ye-AxExfEq1pF_hyPR11vZj9Wi0hd38koHS-CGatIHC4TYU7Vmh_CljutQocnAdoA/s320/100_6002.jpg" width="320" /></b></a></div><b>I only planted four and one died. The vines stayed very short and small while my friend had beautiful vines crawling up a trellis very early in the season. Perhaps it was just the variety as suddenly mine took off and did themselves proud. I had a dozen or more lovely healthy large cucumbers in all. There is still one left in my crisper.</b><br />
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<b>Butternut Squash</b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhbhkUBXgy6s9F4X-aILAIfd-g_TqQ82GK0WMBmZVaif8ICNUeWp9n44W2_SABkB8eqz-wJZhNtgbHkon5F2t3fohOwIxHHK7AABhjbK220WdhTLB41MbwtGqrn9i2Uejc1qQENzW1afM/s1600/100_6110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhbhkUBXgy6s9F4X-aILAIfd-g_TqQ82GK0WMBmZVaif8ICNUeWp9n44W2_SABkB8eqz-wJZhNtgbHkon5F2t3fohOwIxHHK7AABhjbK220WdhTLB41MbwtGqrn9i2Uejc1qQENzW1afM/s200/100_6110.jpg" width="200" /></b></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpENlRZStahzMk5hGc_ro-ubHKdHlBRbP6Bk0vSySfCYpNicoFIQHkAisohIYJ-XU11Z0kZybPuO6LG7g75rzidCkfrrJRxlokXgWCKx_NYH_b4q_aD9p_EFRKh2Q5MuRosvojfFAYryY/s1600/Isnt+he+cute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpENlRZStahzMk5hGc_ro-ubHKdHlBRbP6Bk0vSySfCYpNicoFIQHkAisohIYJ-XU11Z0kZybPuO6LG7g75rzidCkfrrJRxlokXgWCKx_NYH_b4q_aD9p_EFRKh2Q5MuRosvojfFAYryY/s200/Isnt+he+cute.jpg" width="200" /></b></a><b>Thank you No Frills. Sometime last fall I bought a tasty, deep orange-fleshed butternut squash. I saved the seeds and planted them in my winter sow project. After the wind took my greenhouse down and scattered the sprouted seeds all over my sidewalk I managed to save about four plants. Those four plants produced loads of blossoms and immature squash but by the time the weather started to turn I was able to harvest only five. On the right is the first and largest one. I ate one of the smaller ones last night (November 18th and it was yummy. That was my whole supper. )</b><br />
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<b>Sweet Potatoes</b><br />
<b>My favorite nursery, Burt's greenhouses in Odessa, had some Georgia Jet Sweet potato slips for sale this year. It appealed to my spirit of adventure so I bought three. I was pleased to harvest a couple of nice sized ones.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEm4HnbRkV5rgeZKYucbUdaErCOgeedlDU88ar57leYhP6vNeOrMs3BAnXBePIdH15br8q-nl651ItphocE4nR8-PHOpQlsoirm2zzrIeid3-p0fBIXVMUhvwqZgXC7RbcQZFSAETMEb4a/s1600/Georgia+Jet+sweet+potato+half+pounder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEm4HnbRkV5rgeZKYucbUdaErCOgeedlDU88ar57leYhP6vNeOrMs3BAnXBePIdH15br8q-nl651ItphocE4nR8-PHOpQlsoirm2zzrIeid3-p0fBIXVMUhvwqZgXC7RbcQZFSAETMEb4a/s200/Georgia+Jet+sweet+potato+half+pounder.jpg" width="200" /></b></a><b>The one to the left is about a half pound. There was another that was about a quarter pound and then some really strangely shaped ones that I will probably plant up and see if I can keep over winter. Talk about sweet. Really yummy with or without butter.</b><br />
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<b>When I dug them up I took some of the rooted vines and brought them indoors. They have sprouted again so I have high hopes.</b><br />
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<b>In spite of all my efforts I do have failures. I won't give up my day job for the onion and garlic crop. I am not sure what I do wrong but these two just won't grow for me. </b><br />
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<b>Asparagus </b><br />
<b>Nothing but embarrassing pictures of these. Asparagus proved less than successful again this year too. I bought ten more plants and dug up what I thought were the dead roots of the the ones I bought last year, A few were still alive so I replanted and crossed my fingers. At least this year they mostly all showed their ferny little faces. I don't hold high hopes for a future in asparagus farming. They won't be ready to harvest till next year at least anyway. Perhaps I should have made more effort to find a new spot for them.</b><br />
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<b>Peas</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjon9oJvf33F3iv4_V07bCoT8MGHZ84lw1mbOeUpRFYnWiPXo8v753-PongaGfGDT4BQ5UIpBwk7MSVaJ1BvG-th8dE0QjTeTEzXHZqFC-cbunOiZq3xo4HERBX1F_BofVIaQPme3FzUTOt/s1600/East+side+peas+up+close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjon9oJvf33F3iv4_V07bCoT8MGHZ84lw1mbOeUpRFYnWiPXo8v753-PongaGfGDT4BQ5UIpBwk7MSVaJ1BvG-th8dE0QjTeTEzXHZqFC-cbunOiZq3xo4HERBX1F_BofVIaQPme3FzUTOt/s200/East+side+peas+up+close.jpg" width="200" /></b></a></div><b>The peas did fairly well in spite of the repeated assaults by my friends, rabbit and chipmunk I still had a great feed of them and froze a couple of small packages. Definitely need more of these next year.</b><br />
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<b>And so summer is over, the harvest is done, the potatoes are snugly put away.</b><br />
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<b>I have dug up all the rhizomes that need to come in and put in more tulip bulbs. Now its time to rest and plan for next year.</b><br />
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<b>Happy winter all you gardening friends. Hope your harvest was bountiful and you have a safe and happy winter.</b><br />
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</b>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-91666929438100167772010-11-19T11:04:00.000-05:002010-11-19T11:04:57.811-05:00Interesting Huaorani newsA friend sent me this link.<br />
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<div class="WordSection1"> <div> <blockquote style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"> <div> <div> <div> <blockquote style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"> <div style="margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0.5in;"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"> <span style="font-family: 'Tahoma','sans-serif';">Flying Car</span><o:p></o:p></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0.5in;"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"> <a href="http://www.eaavideo.org/video.aspx?v=635469588001" title="http://www.eaavideo.org/video.aspx?v=635469588001"> http://www.eaavideo.org/video.aspx?v=635469588001</a><o:p></o:p></div></div></blockquote></div></div></div></blockquote></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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Imagine my surprise when half way through the man doing the speaking and demonstrating says he was raised by the Huaorani tribe after they killed his father! It was Steve Saint.<br />
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Take a gander. Pretty interesting stuff even without the Huaorani element.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-57347610754446890822010-06-24T15:43:00.062-04:002010-07-09T11:36:39.909-04:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>My Huaorani Obsession Continues</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I am living, eating and breathing Huaorani these days it seems. </b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The following are bits and pieces that I came across today on the net while researching the question of whether Missionaries do more harm than good.</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I know which side I fall on but if I decide to speak to a church group as I was asked to do I should review and weigh all sides of this complex story.</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This article in Wikipedia "Operation Auca" deals with the killing of five missionaries by the Huaorani in 1956.</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>"The deaths of the men galvanized the missionary effort in the United States, sparking an outpouring of funding for evangelization efforts around the world. Their work is still frequently remembered in evangelical publications, and in 2006 was the subject of the film production <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/End_of_the_Spear" title="End of the Spear">End of the Spear</a></i>. Several years after the death of the men, the widow of Jim Elliot, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisabeth_Elliot" title="Elisabeth Elliot">Elisabeth</a>, and the sister of Nate Saint, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachel_Saint" title="Rachel Saint">Rachel</a>, returned to Ecuador as missionaries with the Summer Institute of Linguistics (now <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SIL_International" title="SIL International">SIL International</a>) to live among the Huaorani. This eventually led to the conversion of many, including some of those involved in the killing. While largely eliminating tribal violence, their efforts exposed the tribe to exploitation and increased influence from the outside. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f6b26b;">This has caused Huaorani culture to begin to disappear, but </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthropology" title="Anthropology"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f6b26b;">anthropologists</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f6b26b;"> argue over the ultimate effect—some view the missionary work as </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_imperialism" title="Cultural imperialism"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f6b26b;">cultural imperialism</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f6b26b;">, while others contend that the influence has been beneficial for the tribe."</span></b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>"The Huaorani, also known by the pejorative Aucas (a modification of <i>awqa</i>, the <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quechua_language" title="Quechua language">Quechua</a> word for "enemies"), were an isolated tribe known for their violence, against both their own people and outsiders who entered their territory.</b></span><br />
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<b><h2><span class="mw-headline" id="Huaorani">Huaorani</span></h2>The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huaorani" title="Huaorani">Huaorani</a> around the time of Operation Auca were a small tribe occupying the jungle of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geography_of_Ecuador#El_Oriente.28the_East.29" title="Geography of Ecuador">Eastern Ecuador</a> between the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napo_River" title="Napo River">Napo</a> and <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curaray" title="Curaray">Curaray</a> Rivers, an area of approximately 20,000 square kilometers (7,700 mi²). They numbered approximately 600 people, and were split into three groups, all mutually hostile—the Geketaidi, the Baïidi, and the Wepeidi. They lived on the gathering and cultivation of plant foods like <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manioc" title="Manioc">manioc</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plantain" title="Plantain">plantains</a>, as well as fishing and hunting with spear and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blowgun" title="Blowgun">blowgun</a>. Family units consisted of a man and his wife or wives, their unmarried sons, their married daughters and sons-in-law, and their grandchildren. All of them would reside in a <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longhouse" title="Longhouse">longhouse</a>, which was separated by several miles from another longhouse in which close relatives lived. Marriage was always <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Endogamy" title="Endogamy">endogamous</a> and typically <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inbreeding" title="Inbreeding">between cousins</a>, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arranged_marriage" title="Arranged marriage">arranged</a> by the parents of the young people.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-0">[1]</a></sup><br />
Before their first peaceful contact with outsiders (<i>cowodi</i>) in 1958, the Huaorani fiercely defended their territory. Viewing all <i>cowodi</i> as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cannibalism" title="Cannibalism">cannibalistic</a> predators, they killed <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubber" title="Rubber">rubber</a> tappers around the turn of the 20th century and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Dutch_Shell" title="Royal Dutch Shell">Shell Oil Company</a> employees during the 1940s, in addition to any lowland <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quechuas" title="Quechuas">Quechua</a> or other outsiders who encroached on their land.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-1">[2]</a></sup> Furthermore, they were prone to internal violence, often engaging in vengeance killing of other Huaorani. Raids were carried out in extreme anger by groups of men who attacked their victims' longhouse by night and then fled. Attempts to build truces through gifts and exchange of spouses became more frequent as their numbers decreased and the tribes fragmented, but the cycle of violence continued.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-2">[</a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-2">3</a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-2">]</a></sup><br />
<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2"><a class="image" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Operation_Auca_Map.svg"><img alt="" class="thumbimage" height="330" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/01/Operation_Auca_Map.svg/250px-Operation_Auca_Map.svg.png" width="250" /></a></sup><br />
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<h2><span class="mw-headline" id="Aftermath">Aftermath</span></h2></b><b><i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_(magazine)" title="Life (magazine)">Life</a></i> magazine covered the deaths of the men with a photo essay, including photographs by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornell_Capa" title="Cornell Capa">Cornell Capa</a> and some taken by the five men before their deaths. The ensuing worldwide publicity gave several missionary organizations significant political power, especially in the United States and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Latin_America" title="Latin America">Latin America</a>. Most notable among these was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SIL_International" title="SIL International">Summer Institute of Linguistics</a> (SIL), the organization for which both Elisabeth Elliot and Rachel Saint worked. Because of the martyrdom of her brother, Saint considered herself spiritually bonded to the Huaorani, believing that what she saw as his sacrifice for the Huaorani was symbolic of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christ" title="Christ">Christ</a>'s death for the salvation of humanity. In 1957, Saint and her Huaorani companion Dayuma toured across the United States and appeared on the television show <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Is_Your_Life" title="This Is Your Life">This Is Your Life</a></i>. The two also appeared in a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billy_Graham" title="Billy Graham">Billy Graham</a> crusade in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_York_City" title="New York City">New York City</a>, contributing to Saint's increasing popularity among evangelical Christians and generating significant monetary donations for SIL.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-25"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-25">[26]</a></sup></b><br />
<b><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-25"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-25"></a></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span> Saint and Elliot returned to Ecuador to work among the Huaorani, establishing a camp called Tihueno near a former Huaorani settlement. Rachel Saint and Dayuma became bonded in Huaorani eyes through their shared mourning and Rachel's adoption as a sister of the Dayuma, taking the name Nemo from the latter's deceased youngest sister. The first Huaorani to settle there were primarily women and children from a Huaorani group called the Guiquetairi, but in 1968 an enemy Huaorani band known as the Baihuari joined them. Elliot had returned to the United States in the early 1960s, so Saint and Dayuma worked to alleviate the resulting conflict. They succeeded in securing cohabitation of the two groups by overseeing numerous cross-band weddings, leading to an end of inter-clan warfare but obscuring the cultural identity of each group.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Rival157_26-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-Rival157-26">[27]</a></sup></b><br />
<b><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Rival157_26-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-Rival157-26"></a></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span> Saint and Dayuma, in conjunction with SIL, negotiated the creation of an official Huaorani reservation in 1969, consolidating the Huaorani and consequently opening up the area to commerce and <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oil_exploration" title="Oil exploration">oil exploration</a>. By 1973, over 500 people lived in Tihueno, of which more than half had arrived in the previous six years. The settlement relied on missions aid from SIL, and as a Christian community set up by missionaries, all those living there were obliged to follow specific rules completely foreign to traditional Huaorani culture, most notably the prohibitions of killing and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polygamy" title="Polygamy">polygamy</a>. By the early 1970s, SIL began to question whether their impact on the Huaorani was positive, so they sent James Yost, a staff <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthropology" title="Anthropology">anthropologist</a>, to assess the situation. He found extensive economic dependence and increasing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_assimilation" title="Cultural assimilation">cultural assimilation</a>, and as a result, SIL ended its support of the settlement in 1976, leading to its disintegration and the dispersion of the Huaorani into the surrounding area. SIL had hoped that the Huaorani would return to the isolation in which they had lived twenty years prior, but instead they sought out contact with the outside world, forming villages of which many have been recognized by the Ecuadorian government.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-27"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-27">[28]</a></sup><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Stoll1982p296.E2.80.93305_28-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-Stoll1982p296.E2.80.93305-28">[29]</a></sup><br />
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<b><h3><span class="mw-headline" id="Christian_views">Christian views</span></h3>Among evangelical Christians, the five men are commonly considered <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martyr" title="Martyr">martyrs</a> and missionary heroes. Books have been written about them by numerous biographers, most notably <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisabeth_Elliot" title="Elisabeth Elliot">Elisabeth Elliot</a>. Anniversaries of their deaths have been accompanied by stories in major Christian publications,<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-29"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-29">[30]</a></sup> and their story, as well as the subsequent acceptance of Christianity among the Huaorani, has been turned into several motion pictures. These include the documentary <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beyond_the_Gates_of_Splendor" title="Beyond the Gates of Splendor">Beyond the Gates of Splendor</a> (featuring interviews with some of the Huaorani and surviving family members of the missionaries) and the 2006 dramatic production <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/End_of_the_Spear" title="End of the Spear">End of the Spear</a></i>, which grossed over $12 million.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-30"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-30">[31]</a></sup> Even so, Christians have noted with concern the disintegration of traditional Huaorani culture and <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Westernization" title="Westernization">westernization</a> of the tribe, beginning with Nate Saint's own journal entry in 1955 and continuing through today. However, many continue to view as positive both Operation Auca and the subsequent missionary efforts of Rachel Saint, mission organizations such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mission_Aviation_Fellowship" title="Mission Aviation Fellowship">Mission Aviation Fellowship</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wycliffe_Bible_Translators" title="Wycliffe Bible Translators">Wycliffe Bible Translators</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HCJB" title="HCJB">HCJB</a> World Radio, Avant Ministries (<i>formerly Gospel Missionary Union</i>), and others. Specifically, they note the decline in violence among tribe members, numerous conversions to Christianity, and growth of the local church<br />
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<b><h3 style="display: inline !important;"><span class="mw-headline" id="Anthropologist_views">Anthropologist views</span></h3></b></b><b>Anthropologists generally have less favorable views of the missionary work begun by Operation Auca, viewing the intervention as the cause for the recent and widely recognized decline of Huaorani culture. Leading Huaorani researcher Laura Rival says that the work of the SIL "pacified" the Huaorani during the 1960s, and argues that missionary intervention caused significant changes in fundamental components of Huaorani society. Prohibitions of polygamy, violence, chanting, and dancing were directly contrary to cultural norms, and the relocation of Huaorani and subsequent <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exogamy" title="Exogamy">intermarrying</a> of previously hostile groups eroded <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_identity" title="Cultural identity">cultural identity</a>.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Rival157_26-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-Rival157-26">[27]</a></sup> Others are somewhat less negative—Brysk, after noting that the work of the missionaries opened the area to outside intervention and led to the deterioration of the culture, says that the SIL also informed the Huaorani of their legal rights and taught them how to protect their interests from developers.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-33"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-33">[34]</a></sup> Boster goes even further, suggesting that the "pacification" of the Huaorani was a result of "active effort" by the Huaorani themselves, not the result of missionary imposition. He argues that Christianity served as a way for the Huaorani to escape the cycle of violence in their community, since it provided a motivation to abstain from killing.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-34"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-34">[35]</a></sup></b><br />
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</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-34"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Auca#cite_note-34"></a></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The following is an excerpt from the web site Icarus Films </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">http://icarusfilms.com/cat97/t-z/trinkets.html</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span></b></span></span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">( My notes: The man called Moi who is trying to unite the tribe against the oil company Maxus is the man who I visited with in the late 1990's. The following f</span></span></b><b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;">ilm deals with encroaching oil company influence in Huaorani lands.</div></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I was going to order the DVD until I saw the price $390.00!!!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: normal;">)</span></span></span></b><br />
<b><b></b></b><br />
<b><b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><br />
</div></div></b></b><br />
<b><b></b></b><br />
<b><b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;">Trinkets and Beads </div></div></b></b><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b></b></span></b><br />
<b><b></b></b><br />
<b><b></b></b><br />
<b><b></b></b><br />
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<b><b></b></b><br />
<b><b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;">A Film by Christopher Walker </div></b><div id="title"><br />
</div><div id="title">After twenty years of devastating pollution produced by oil companies in the Amazon basin of Ecuador, a new kind of oil company - Dallas based MAXUS - promises to be the first company to protect the rainforest, and respect the people who live there. <br />
<br />
TRINKETS & BEADS tells the story of how MAXUS set out to convince the Huaorani - known as the fiercest tribe in the Amazon - to allow drilling on their land. It is a story that starts in 1957 with the Huaorani massacre of five American missionaries, moving through the evangelization efforts of Rachel Saint, to the pollution of Huaorani lands by Texaco and Shell, and then the manipulation of Huaorani leaders by MAXUS. <br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;">Now the Huaorani leader, Moi, is trying to unite the tribe in opposition to MAXUS. "It's not just about exploiting oil," says Moi, "it's about who controls the rainforest... it's everyone's concern because this is the heart of the world..." </span><br />
<br />
Filmed over two years, TRINKETS & BEADS reveals the funny, heartbreaking and thrilling story of the battle waged by indigenous people to preserve their way of life. The story of how the Huaorani are attempting to survive the Petroleum Age on their own terms exposes hidden consequences of our relentless drive to "develop" the world.<br />
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<i>"[The Huaorani] have developed considerable skepticism and sophistication about outsiders' intentions. This forceful documentary leaves the impression that accommodation will not prove easy."</i><b>—The New York Times</b><br />
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<i>"Upsetting and finally, infuriating... a fine work."</i><b>—Peter Matthiessen, author of <i>At Play In The Fields Of The Lord</i></b><br />
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<i>"A heartbreaking tale, laden with harrowing images of waste and ruin, that shows how the rampant greed of oil companies has managed to destroy a once peaceful and pristine village in Ecuador."</i><b>—Chicago Metromix</b><br />
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<i>"An important film that should be seen by anyone concerned about the environment, first-third world relations, globalization, ethnology, and the role of missionaires. This film...helps us move closer to understanding how the common good [the entire earth and all its peoples] is to be incorporated into our decision-making. Unfortunately, it also makes you want to weep."</i><b>—Bridges, An Interdisciplinary Journal</b><br />
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<dt class="text_films_awards_o"><strong class="text_boldgray">Best Documentary, 1998 Paris International Environmental Film Festival</strong></dt><br />
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<b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b></b></span></div><b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;"><br />
<dt class="text_films_awards_o" style="display: inline !important;"><strong class="text_boldgray">1998 Award of Merit in Film, Latin American Studies Association</strong></dt><br />
</div></b></div></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b></b></span><br />
<b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;"><br />
<dt class="text_films_awards_o" style="display: inline !important;"><strong class="text_boldgray">Best Cultural Survival Film, 1998 Telluride Mountainfilm Festival</strong></dt><br />
</div></b><br />
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<dt class="text_films_awards_o"><strong class="text_boldgray">Special Mention, 1997 Panorama of Ethnographic Film (Paris)</strong></dt><br />
<dt class="text_films_awards_o"><strong class="text_boldgray"></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><div id="title" style="display: inline !important;"><br />
<dt class="text_films_awards_o" style="display: inline !important;"><strong class="text_boldgray">1997 International Festival of Ethnographic Film (Rio de Janeiro)</strong></dt><br />
</div></b></span></dt><br />
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<dt class="text_films_awards_o"><strong class="text_boldgray">Gold Apple, 1997 National Educational Media Network</strong></dt><br />
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Here is a LINK to TED. There is a video and a transcript by Phil Borges. His pronunciation lacks something but his heart is in the right place.<br />
http://www.ted.com/talks/phil_borges_on_endangered_cultures.html</div></b><div><br />
</div><div><br />
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</div>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-60333173719791062962010-06-21T12:03:00.041-04:002010-06-24T15:36:02.274-04:00<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hanging on to the Past</span></strong><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Once in awhile I have something so serendipitous happen to me that I just know I have a guardian angel. My poor angel used to be very overworked trying to either keep me out of trouble or to rescue me if I got away while he was on his lunch break. Yes, I know it is a him. And I once knew him very well. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Now that he is flapping around where ever angels flap he has devoted more attention to me than he did while he was earthbound. But that is the subject of another posting.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">This time it was not a life-threatening situation but it was something that will make me very happy. I hope. That is where the finger crossing thing comes in.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It started out like this. I ran into a friend who began talking about a book that she had just read, "End of The Spear" written by Steven Saint I believe. Steven is the son of the missionary Nathan Saint who was killed in the Amazon basin of Ecuador many years ago. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">As she spoke it seemed that she could be talking about the Huaorani tribe that I knew and wrote about in a previous posting way back in</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">October 2009 under the title "Poems and Stories from Another Life Part II - Moi."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">That chance meeting started off a chain of events that has me so excited that I had to write about it. I went home and went on the net to see if I could purchase the book. It was then that I discovered that it had been made into a movie so I ordered the DVD. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">There were other treasures that dealt with the most fascinating people I have ever met. I ordered another movie "Beyond the Gates of Splendor" and a few books. The movies and one of the books arrived the other day. What gorgeous photos of the tribe...some of whom I had met in 1996 when I travelled to the Shiripuno River to visit them.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Today I watched both movies, Gates was more of a documentary than the End of the Spear one. I became totally engrossed in both of them even though they are a different branch of the Huaorani than the ones I knew. I also saw a different (slanted?) side of missionaries than I previously had been introduced to.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I am no fan of the kind of missionaries or other people who go in to "convert" (meaning tell them that everything they have been doing and believing for the past thousand years or so is wrong) people who are living in peace and harmony with nature. Especially when the word they are bringing crushes the beautiful innocence of these people, shames them into wearing clothing and seeks to obliterate their own rich and wondrous belief system. I have heard too many stories first hand from various tribes regarding their treatment at the hands of various missionaries to be anything but sad when I hear of these encounters.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">If these movies are true then, yes, the missionaries persuaded the tribes people not to kill each other and other tribes people, and brought them medicine. They also brought them diseases previously unknown to them which wiped them out quicker than the killing did!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In fact I just came across an entry in Wikipedia today regarding this missionary/tribal encounter.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"</span>The deaths of the men galvanized the missionary effort in the United States, sparking an outpouring of funding for evangelization efforts around the world. Their work is still frequently remembered in evangelical publications, and in 2006 was the subject of the film production <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/End_of_the_Spear" title="End of the Spear">End of the Spear</a></i>. Several years after the death of the men, the widow of Jim Elliot, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisabeth_Elliot" title="Elisabeth Elliot">Elisabeth</a>, and the sister of Nate Saint, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachel_Saint" title="Rachel Saint">Rachel</a>, returned to Ecuador as missionaries with the Summer Institute of Linguistics (now <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SIL_International" title="SIL International">SIL International</a>) to live among the Huaorani. This eventually led to the conversion of many, including some of those involved in the killing. While largely eliminating tribal violence, their efforts exposed the tribe to exploitation and increased influence from the outside. This has caused Huaorani culture to begin to disappear, but <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthropology" title="Anthropology">anthropologists</a> argue over the ultimate effect—some view the missionary work as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_imperialism" title="Cultural imperialism">cultural imperialism</a>, while others contend that the influence has been beneficial for the tribe."<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In the book, "Spirit of the Huaorani" one of the tribe is quoted as saying of the missionaries something like this, " When you came here I had my land and you had your bible. You taught me to close my eyes and pray. When I opened my eyes you had my land and I had your bible." </span><br />
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</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The next thing I knew I was rooting through a box of old VHS tapes wanting to immerse myself in the videos of my trip. About 4 or 5 years ago, when my movie camera died, I had them transferred from the original camera tapes to VHS. At the time I was told that because I had not stored the movie camera tapes properly and the sound and date portion had been destroyed. I said, go ahead anyway as at least I can see the places I visited.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I got the two VHS tapes out, put one in the machine and began watching. Shock and sorrow were my only reaction. the tapes had deteriorated to the point where there were only tiny fragments of movie and the rest was blue or grey patches.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Something spurred me on to see if I could either buy a machine to transfer them - bad as they were - to disk. I have a "thing" about preserving the past. Sometimes to my detriment since I tend to get stuck back there in often painful moments.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The software and instructions to hook up my VHS machine to my computer and thence to my DVD burner cost $80.00 Would I ever need it again? Was there another way to do this? More calls and many price comparisons later I found what sounded like the right person for me and made an appointment to bring my tapes in.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I gathered up the tiny movie camera tapes (8 of them) and the bad VHS tapes they have been copied to. Plus about 3 that were 18 years old but still in better shape than the newer ones I had had copied "professionally". </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">To make a long story short the movie camera tapes were intact! There was nothing wrong with the sound at all, nor the dates. These will be copied once again but to a disk. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Obviously I had been lied to and cheated the first time around. Now I am not the kind of person to take this lightly. I will track down the SOB who almost made me lose a part of not just my history but the history of the disappearing Huaorani tribe. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I for one never can understand why a person will lie to you for the sake of a few bucks.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">All he had to say was I am sorry I do not have the equipment to copy these properly. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Perhaps I am not the only dissatisfied customer for his shop is closed and he now operates out of his home. I can't find it in the phone book now. Lucky him because I was thinking to give him a piece of my mind. Lucky me too as I have so little left to spare!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">He would probably like to tell you that he lost his business because Wal-Mart came to town. I wonder.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hanging on to the past, even when some people think it is damaged can be a good thing sometimes.</span>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-48058169306085474282010-06-18T21:08:00.000-04:002010-06-18T21:08:28.268-04:00Down to earth - for real<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Yep. It's that time of year. The garden is screaming for attention. And I have been down to earth and wallowing for real. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbKo7iqDNT5UHmUA3z7zVbzDt5ecbfFIo5JiBvCTZmauHNfRwKGudIEtnq9UIG_I9e45vHt6dIWy4UwLgeEe4FNNdooiO5ZvMIgCe2Ny_pIuTWp6CYyDF8RlSKI3gFPQSb7Oo7YUNv8Ot3/s1600/100_5462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbKo7iqDNT5UHmUA3z7zVbzDt5ecbfFIo5JiBvCTZmauHNfRwKGudIEtnq9UIG_I9e45vHt6dIWy4UwLgeEe4FNNdooiO5ZvMIgCe2Ny_pIuTWp6CYyDF8RlSKI3gFPQSb7Oo7YUNv8Ot3/s320/100_5462.jpg" /></a><br />
In early spring I hired a young neighbour to dig up some sod for me to enlarge two of the vegetable gardens.<br />
<br />
After he extended the East garden by the several foot wide strip you can see here (the long strip at the right side that is not yet covered with straw) he moved on to enlarge another garden on the South side.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDtLe1eDyqMWpfqtSOUnfM-k1iXgJ4ze5bqQMs1HNvggIH-ELScL_n9dxfgy5MjO4X46B6CseUR_CXSi9BhFwFxo6s1EmdNzCH2tdcZWe8xKFF6OHQYxpwD_Thc8RbtvZZGS2mz8KU8up/s1600/enlarged+tomato+and+squash+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDtLe1eDyqMWpfqtSOUnfM-k1iXgJ4ze5bqQMs1HNvggIH-ELScL_n9dxfgy5MjO4X46B6CseUR_CXSi9BhFwFxo6s1EmdNzCH2tdcZWe8xKFF6OHQYxpwD_Thc8RbtvZZGS2mz8KU8up/s320/enlarged+tomato+and+squash+garden.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">After finishing this job the six foot tall 250 pound 21 year old neighbour boy laid down his shovel, proclaiming the work was too hard. <br />
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Then MY hard work began. I had to take out the rocks he left in the soil and replace the good top soil that he took away with the sod. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>But I caught a break when I discovered that the old sod from a couple of seasons ago was now nice new crumbly composted soil. So that was a bonus as I did not need to purchase any.<br />
<br />
I ended up shovelling thirty wheelbarrows full and distributing it between the newly enlarged gardens. Once that was mixed with dozens of bags of peat moss, black earth and manure I felt it was ready. And just in the nick of time - as it was now the beginning of June. It had been dry and very hot. But as soon as I got all the veggies in the rains came like a wonderful gift from the heavens. They have continued for several weeks on and off.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPER8HWlS30nklML7etCf9uqb79GXkEj7nQDqsYBBRJnDey3oHV0zw_gjf6toUiv9t4UdsovhyphenhyphenB0ZIye9yq-TUTrB1KhcuzLziQ-uqjidfkz6stv3QnrmPHGwc6yhOAbSxDKY61ytzVtM/s1600/tomato+and+squash+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPER8HWlS30nklML7etCf9uqb79GXkEj7nQDqsYBBRJnDey3oHV0zw_gjf6toUiv9t4UdsovhyphenhyphenB0ZIye9yq-TUTrB1KhcuzLziQ-uqjidfkz6stv3QnrmPHGwc6yhOAbSxDKY61ytzVtM/s320/tomato+and+squash+garden.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here is the South garden with a view of the tomato plants. I went nuts this year and bought thirty two of them! But you never know. The first year I had eight plants and had just about enough tomatoes frozen to get me through the winter. The second year I had 15 plants but because of blight I got hardly enough for half the winter. So far this year things are looking good - weather-wise.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In addition I put in about 50 potatoes, planting them in shallow holes with dead leaves and pine needles added, then piling straw on top. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJoGQCIuLJQFGh4EqxaA_jiwL2Yuxk9EFAHZa0bhpNaWM_P5Be1fAnUwKAVPOarKcjsdIEV_LvMq0s3Ey5Tww79Dd50QnDQJpFo5zW7QotVNGRs8GAQ8z3aVRc-b-wKoJJ1D4gpeIJW5j/s1600/potatos+and+onion+east+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJoGQCIuLJQFGh4EqxaA_jiwL2Yuxk9EFAHZa0bhpNaWM_P5Be1fAnUwKAVPOarKcjsdIEV_LvMq0s3Ey5Tww79Dd50QnDQJpFo5zW7QotVNGRs8GAQ8z3aVRc-b-wKoJJ1D4gpeIJW5j/s200/potatos+and+onion+east+garden.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQc6wbWoYuAB_PijsyaBC2JNQbPiFOUPur1UZbCz1lbmUoNLInT05y22A_k_Uy4LTLtTr3ENzifyxb3Sf-J3xNmfU_wELDqsZv28N7Oh99Hi4D9t2IQzzGRmMjh8Ew48NjeYHhQLLN-D0E/s1600/potatoes+are+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQc6wbWoYuAB_PijsyaBC2JNQbPiFOUPur1UZbCz1lbmUoNLInT05y22A_k_Uy4LTLtTr3ENzifyxb3Sf-J3xNmfU_wELDqsZv28N7Oh99Hi4D9t2IQzzGRmMjh8Ew48NjeYHhQLLN-D0E/s200/potatoes+are+up.jpg" width="200" /></a>If this works you end up with easily harvested potatoes with no loss due to cutting with the shovel when you harvest. You can just move the straw aside and pull a few out! And very little digging at all as you just keep pulling the straw up with your hands and tucking it around the leaves as they emerge. I am excited to see if this works. Here are a couple of potato sprouts pushing through. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In this East garden are also hundreds of onions and garlic, leaf lettuce, radish, spinach and Giant Red Asian mustard. And peas!</div></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEija1bsEHUxKqDz24_JEx8LPB0xXfO2GuQ24WjAttk8Ej81Sk07M8yNkYLk3VI8090loqfAcykTLrw0bFcB-5h6B23JC8iXlFXAr_-DeM1ucX-64EzGkoVDyJXsvZyl4Mft-qO-ckXGGFRc/s1600/Mr+Bunny+kindly+left+me+these+peas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEija1bsEHUxKqDz24_JEx8LPB0xXfO2GuQ24WjAttk8Ej81Sk07M8yNkYLk3VI8090loqfAcykTLrw0bFcB-5h6B23JC8iXlFXAr_-DeM1ucX-64EzGkoVDyJXsvZyl4Mft-qO-ckXGGFRc/s200/Mr+Bunny+kindly+left+me+these+peas.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbec0VY-ZNj3h37VuYf-bZ3koqkNc77rPzr36JY8icc3T1OO80tya1ew3p7_T-SXy0eyanZ28Y-Y0z8HuFIyFu7LByZAYK4ygunPrJJtmxrN4WRpY_Vi4AHr0TNp3P6XzukzQalyOZqp-/s1600/peas+are+slow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbec0VY-ZNj3h37VuYf-bZ3koqkNc77rPzr36JY8icc3T1OO80tya1ew3p7_T-SXy0eyanZ28Y-Y0z8HuFIyFu7LByZAYK4ygunPrJJtmxrN4WRpY_Vi4AHr0TNp3P6XzukzQalyOZqp-/s200/peas+are+slow.jpg" width="200" /></a>Here they are clinging to an old farm gate that I found behind the barn. Forms a little privacy fence too. You can see the difference a month makes.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMJRN_GOZzn1hVjD_P2nBC22vG5VAZ_9WRjVi3FGNauMcJ3mRmN0vYV6o15D6a9j5Q8oF0uOcOSdHZ0okNho8QqYKQhyphenhyphenXYL_HOAG6hIFuuWmXpqb2ja-oBlGo_cBT0zr6pFzAnk2Mk9yy/s1600/Mr+Bunny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMJRN_GOZzn1hVjD_P2nBC22vG5VAZ_9WRjVi3FGNauMcJ3mRmN0vYV6o15D6a9j5Q8oF0uOcOSdHZ0okNho8QqYKQhyphenhyphenXYL_HOAG6hIFuuWmXpqb2ja-oBlGo_cBT0zr6pFzAnk2Mk9yy/s200/Mr+Bunny.jpg" width="200" /></a>If Peter C Tail allows it I will share the wealth with neighbours, friends and maybe even the food bank. The little darling had already mown down a third of my peas before I put up chicken wire.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>I did an experiment in January with Winter Sowing of a number of seeds. I cant sow seeds inside my house as I have not enough room or the proper light. So I chose wintersowing. Out of 40 different types about 15 came up. Of those about 12 survived till I got them planted. Originally I had them against the west fence where they would not be blown over and would get plenty of sun. But when spring arrived I didnt want to impede the growth of the other plants that they were sitting on top of so I moved them to a little greenhouse which I placed on the back porch. Up came a big wind and down went the greenhouse spewing the seeds all over the sidewalk. I scooped them up as best I could and miraculously most survived. I see that they should have been transplanted to a larger container and fertilized as they are very tiny. Next year I will try again.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHWnhn8BOA0VlyZCdIY9bxVFzWkYUev7mnOIY-oKEVFfUnFjkhd8DxGEhjFtCl9emSCIvaIgVjKKnMCUkW_DYnYm4-SWPOt2WrhQE27WHor-F4UEgYwEw_kglE27eMlI89_ZYppdKmc0o/s1600/winter+sowing+January+2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHWnhn8BOA0VlyZCdIY9bxVFzWkYUev7mnOIY-oKEVFfUnFjkhd8DxGEhjFtCl9emSCIvaIgVjKKnMCUkW_DYnYm4-SWPOt2WrhQE27WHor-F4UEgYwEw_kglE27eMlI89_ZYppdKmc0o/s320/winter+sowing+January+2009.jpg" /></a>If you are interested in learning about Winter Sowing check out the original website. It is very informative. Try keying in Wintersown.org<br />
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Happy Gardening to all.</div>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-36392114533398143942010-03-26T09:41:00.000-04:002010-03-26T09:41:15.760-04:00Bokashi Cycle for food and pet wasteWe don't have garbage pickup where I live. This has encouraged me to flex my already well-developed recycling muscle. I want to make as few trips to the dump with smelly garbage in the back of my car as I possibly can.<br />
<br />
As I mentioned earlier red wiggler worms compost my vegetable scraps and newspapers. Some bulkier things like avocado pits and melon rinds I put in the outside compost bin and wait years for them to degrade to the point where I can use them. I have actually had better luck just leaving a very informal pile on the ground. Perhaps it is because the naturally occurring soil microbes have easier access to the material. I have tried wrapping food waste in newspapers to add the "brown" or carbon element. I add a few shovels of earth but still it is maddeningly slow. Plastic, heavy cardboard and metal go to the dump along with non-compostable meat and bones.<br />
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The only thing that is problematic for me is the kitty litter and cat waste. Some people flush that down the toilet but I am on a septic system and that was not an alternative for me. Trekking the heavy bags of excrement to the dump was a decidedly unpleasant job. Adding it to my outdoor compost pile was smelly and meant that I could not use the compost on food crops. But today I think I may have stumbled upon an acceptable solution in the Bokashi system of fermentation.<br />
<br />
The link to the Bokashi site is<br />
<a href="http://www.bokashicycle.com/howitworks.html">http://www.bokashicycle.com/howitworks.html</a><br />
<br />
Don't let the particularly amateurish videos put you off. There is some interesting information contained therein if you give it a chance.<br />
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I was so convinced that I was almost ready to order the special packets of culture. But then I got to thinking. What are they really selling? I had already pretty much decided that I didn't need their fancy plastic storage items, dispensers or buckets - all stuff that is readily available at the dollar store for a lot less money.<br />
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So I got to thinking what is the magic ingredient and how can I "DIM" (Do it Myself)? As you may have gathered I am a person who likes to beat the system. So I did some more looking and found this fascinating site.<br />
<a href="http://www.wildlifegardeners.org/forum/fertilizing-soil-amendments/1292-extreme-bokashi-make-your-own-innoculant.html">http://www.wildlifegardeners.org/forum/fertilizing-soil-amendments/1292-extreme-bokashi-make-your-own-innoculant.html</a><br />
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It seems making your own involves messing about with newspaper, rice water and skim milk. All readily available items.<br />
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I guess what it all boils down to is this. How much work am I (or you) willing to do? Would I prefer to fool around making my own innoculant or would I prefer to haul bags of poop to the dump. Of course I could always order the innoculant but my Scots blood balks at that. Hmmm.<br />
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I will let you know what I decide.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-21255321249771244362010-02-03T09:32:00.001-05:002010-02-03T09:33:59.628-05:00It has been awhile since I have updated my page. But recently I saw a picture on the net that struck me like a lightning bolt.<br />
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Perhaps even as far back as the Garden Of Eden man has been waging a battle to protect his precious bulbs from squirrels. <br />
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I personally have had a modicum of success by burying cat hair, or even my own hair, just over the bulb.<br />
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Members of the on line garden club I belong to have been sharing suggestions which included a motion sensitive device that you attach to a hose. <br />
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But this picture I saw poses an ecologically safe method as well. I call it the Marie Antoinette Solution. You may remember that Marie was famous for her expression, "Let Them Eat Cake"!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrblTMgJHDWjcbSj2iXkFukI_f8bDm9RcThH9DZSd9rP4tM2HiP0fGdyTJ5ITRn-uyievNsZSlO8LBLQ8P_gEJfj6uh1m99KsVgR5IGGKOHuhIBAHLNuOBAAcoOObXjuZGRGoLFv-mOKa/s1600-h/The+answer+to+the+bulb+problem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrblTMgJHDWjcbSj2iXkFukI_f8bDm9RcThH9DZSd9rP4tM2HiP0fGdyTJ5ITRn-uyievNsZSlO8LBLQ8P_gEJfj6uh1m99KsVgR5IGGKOHuhIBAHLNuOBAAcoOObXjuZGRGoLFv-mOKa/s320/The+answer+to+the+bulb+problem.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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And hey this might even keep them away from the bird feeders.<br />
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Since this picture was circulating freely as part of one of those "cute pictures of animals" emails and the photographers name was not included I am unable to give credit.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-2074934520049751182009-12-17T09:49:00.010-05:002009-12-20T10:23:58.774-05:00ProtestTHOUSANDS GATHER TO PROTEST GLOBAL WARMING <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW229aT75ahCA3ehqpS7w1qlmhB061BPvE-e4Vp1sepiQpalVzB1Av_BPOfiGTxuELvzdSzaXpSmzSzTz31VLtJn8aG4ERiGUkbRugcpFqe_hxdUuIpkL-A62RVm3uU0GgCC2_oeMXtWYU/s1600-h/thousands+gather+to+protest+global+warming.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW229aT75ahCA3ehqpS7w1qlmhB061BPvE-e4Vp1sepiQpalVzB1Av_BPOfiGTxuELvzdSzaXpSmzSzTz31VLtJn8aG4ERiGUkbRugcpFqe_hxdUuIpkL-A62RVm3uU0GgCC2_oeMXtWYU/s320/thousands+gather+to+protest+global+warming.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I recently received this clever photo in my inbox. Now I wonder if each of us spent as much time on making some small changes in our life that would alleviate global warming as we do on sending jokes making fun of it perhaps we could find a way to slow it down. <br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I guess there are still some who do not believe that there is a crisis. Those would be the people who also don't believe that keeping things out of land fill by trying to recycle where possible and composting food wastes will help the cause.<br />
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And they would rather allow a tap to drip for years wasting tons (yes tons)* of water instead of going out and buying a 20 cent washer to install. Or using a clothes dryer rather than hanging their clothes in the fresh air and sunshine. Leaving lights and appliances such as TV's, computers, printers, radios on in rooms where there are no human inhabitants. I don't know but I guess these would be the same people who protest about the high cost of their hydro bills. <br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">They might even be the same ones who still water their lawns. That would be to soak in the weed killing poisons they just applied. The sooner to reach all our water supplies.<br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">But ask the people in Bolivia who have seen a mountain top glacier shrink from miles wide and hundreds of feet deep to a small patch of slush in only a few decades. Boo hoo where will the tourists ski now? In addition to causing the loss of tourist dollars this inconsiderate glacier is now threatening the water supply of many villages below.<br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">My aunt used to say, "Nothing lasts forever" and I guess that is what is happening here. We thought we would always have plenty of fresh water and whales and elephants and rhubarb without any thought as to our role as stewards. <br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Creationists believe we were given dominion over the animals. I won't get into a debate here about who or what may have been responsible for this gross error in judgment but rather say, for those who believe that man is superior to the beasts of the field then with superiority comes responsibility for their welfare. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like spoiled children who are handed everything without having to lift a finger we have used it all up and looked for more. But what if one day the larder was bare?<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Evolutionists could say that it is the natural order of things just ticking along. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am not going to argue with either one. Because no matter who is right we have been far too casual about our natural resources for far too long. If we expected that someone else would come along and fix the mess we "stewards" made that someone must be busy because they have not appeared.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now when the resources are almost gone we are still denying there is a problem.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If you care about this sort of thing check out this link for all kinds of information http://www.treehugger.com/<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Wake up people!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Author's Note:<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A reader has commented (see full text in comments below) that he does not believe that MAN (his emphasis) created this crisis. He seems to believe it to be a natural phenomenon. Whoa! Is he blaming it on a WOMAN; Mother Nature perhaps? <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Unlike him arguing with mine, I will not argue with his position since being a woman I am naturally biased.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I do however stand firmly by my assertions that we are shirking our responsibility to use our resources with care. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like Pete Seeger said:<br />
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One man's hands can't tear a prison down,<br />
<br />
Two men's hands can't tear a prison down,<br />
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But if one and two and fifty make a million,<br />
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We'll see that day come round,<br />
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We'll see that day come round.<br />
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This "many hands" theory can apply to anything so take some action no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. You may not save the world from global warming but you will save some resources and save yourself a few bucks in the bargain on those hydro bills.<br />
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*Let's take one tap that drips at a rate of 1 liter in 1 hour, that's 24 liters a day, 720 liters a month, and 8,760 liters a year, almost 9 tons of water. And that is just ONE tap.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-48276863363825714482009-12-03T09:56:00.002-05:002009-12-04T19:05:19.667-05:00Poems and Stories from another life - Part V - Pase del Nino<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><strong>CHRISTMAS BELOW THE EQUATOR</strong> <br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">By E. J. Brunton</span> <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ckXtPhdGSnWbs6jhe-KDwiApYD3e1eLLE7vLHwqJ-yjMBlAUAWNbOHSC9JTYQvyn2FQDJzRWbulDXSVUjQY3A91gm0tcY8TPs6JKmP1MMZFGZ1GWNKN4AFOnpQjRWkVt21qmCl4SpLYX/s1600-h/N1MXG6CAI3YDM5CA430AJ6CAINL8JDCAF9ZGWPCAE9NBJ5CAE9GGFRCADHC5FRCASP6L3ECA79CBLACAZD63CACAAKALFICAPV090SCA0JLZAPCAPIATCZCA60HTADCAZQNZDACAPJYEB0CALE4FZ5CA69SLC6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ckXtPhdGSnWbs6jhe-KDwiApYD3e1eLLE7vLHwqJ-yjMBlAUAWNbOHSC9JTYQvyn2FQDJzRWbulDXSVUjQY3A91gm0tcY8TPs6JKmP1MMZFGZ1GWNKN4AFOnpQjRWkVt21qmCl4SpLYX/s320/N1MXG6CAI3YDM5CA430AJ6CAINL8JDCAF9ZGWPCAE9NBJ5CAE9GGFRCADHC5FRCASP6L3ECA79CBLACAZD63CACAAKALFICAPV090SCA0JLZAPCAPIATCZCA60HTADCAZQNZDACAPJYEB0CALE4FZ5CA69SLC6.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>In Cuenca, Ecuador, on December 24th we always celebrated with an afternoon parade of the “Nino Viajero”, or, literally, the traveling Christ child. Children are adorned in expensive, hand-embroidered, faux pearl and jewel-encrusted costumes. For several hours the streets overflow with these mini-Madonnas and Christ child replicas.<br />
<br />
Horses, mules and burros are decked out with silver and leather bridles, strings of cookies, candies, fruits, vegetables, bottles of sugar cane liquor, and packs of cigarettes. Often the patient animals are ridden by whole roasted pigs or turkeys with paper money stuffed in their mouths. More often the rider is a local roasted delicacy known in Quichua as “cuye”. We Canadians know it as that cuddly household pet, the guinea pig, Recent entries to the scene are imported canned or bottled goods which are also strung on the <br />
animals as a sign of significant wealth.<br />
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</div><br />
Each year a family will elect to decorate their horse for the event. The following year an uncle or cousin will take on the challenge and must always try to double or outdo what his predecessor has done. I imagine that explains why 16 wheeler trucks are beginning to replace the noble horse in recent years. Horses would stagger under the burden of such wealth.<br />
<br />
Indigenous children in native costume perform a dance not unlike the English maypole dance. Each dancer, holding a colorful ribbon, weaves his way through intricate steps while winding and then unwinding the ribbons as he retraces his steps. Accompanying the dancers are groups playing the “rondador” (pan flute) cow hide drums, strings of shells, “bocina” (a several yards long instrument made partially from cow horn), and tiny ukulele-like instruments formed from entire armadillo hides called “charangos”. <br />
<br />
Village bands from outlying areas playing tubas, drums and trumpets consume quantities of contraband cane liquor as they compete with ghetto blasters clutched by the little Christ Child and Virgin Mary look-a-likes. Ironically the song was often Madonna’s “Like a Virgin.” No one seems to mind the cacophony. <br />
<br />
Thirsty watchers quaff from a smeary communal glass, some dubious home-made liquids, carried in grimy pails by the vendors. The lone glass is carefully swished out after each use in the one bucket of murky water which will have to last throughout the entire parade.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8LExr6km_SrCuYxxI9KSWVxRClM6QFMwQRxL2kae2LrGNIQE46aaOQwSjh9t0tEDZZ1mSX13LRR0DDXlSy_3Hmsh2xN_xtcg4P9uULzSSDojhq74HekkC9JSiepKbsmQQnxyoQQuzadZ/s1600-h/3169025879_8a29c5dc5e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8LExr6km_SrCuYxxI9KSWVxRClM6QFMwQRxL2kae2LrGNIQE46aaOQwSjh9t0tEDZZ1mSX13LRR0DDXlSy_3Hmsh2xN_xtcg4P9uULzSSDojhq74HekkC9JSiepKbsmQQnxyoQQuzadZ/s320/3169025879_8a29c5dc5e.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Snow cones are made by shaving a huge block of ice with hand operated contraptions painted in gaudy hues. This device, accompanied by the ice and the bottles of sugary, brightly colored syrup flavorings, ambulates atop a three-wheeled bicycle. Others hawk tempting slices of pineapple, papaya, mango, sticks of sugar cane or refreshing coconut water served right in the shell. <br />
<br />
The mingled aromas of shish-ka-bob like “chusos”, fried “llapingachos”(potato cakes), deep-fried, thinly sliced “chifles” of plantain and mouth watering slices from a whole roasted pig with its eyes, ears, hooves and tail intact, mingle to tickle your palate. You can have these on a take out basis, wrapped up in an environmentally friendly leaf, or you can eat at the stand from another communal dish. May I recommend the leaf?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG8NbiiV52fXSOtuJx8J5d4C98sgXiSwQ5qCRiFLMGI9PXISCVhyphenhyphencnu89YW8J3ZIfaVbBHpWd3U5ChlqCBYAkHjX10TlfxkZ9VZPaza4wdRW0KYfdBAXKtZXPYx8vv5jeEEzjDdzm4Nfl/s1600-h/PE0ITQCAUOYJARCABTAZHQCACL7Z4SCARGR17DCASH3NFNCAQQH8HYCA5DJHWNCAWU0QOMCAUEFEDACAEBISWUCALHNKLHCAG821N4CAGC0NCOCAROG3F2CAZ6YXZ5CA6O9JSECA0V4IE2CACRN1JYCA6ZWVCC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG8NbiiV52fXSOtuJx8J5d4C98sgXiSwQ5qCRiFLMGI9PXISCVhyphenhyphencnu89YW8J3ZIfaVbBHpWd3U5ChlqCBYAkHjX10TlfxkZ9VZPaza4wdRW0KYfdBAXKtZXPYx8vv5jeEEzjDdzm4Nfl/s320/PE0ITQCAUOYJARCABTAZHQCACL7Z4SCARGR17DCASH3NFNCAQQH8HYCA5DJHWNCAWU0QOMCAUEFEDACAEBISWUCALHNKLHCAG821N4CAGC0NCOCAROG3F2CAZ6YXZ5CA6O9JSECA0V4IE2CACRN1JYCA6ZWVCC.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>At the end of the parade rides the long anticipated guest of honor; the tiny wooden Christ child. He is dressed in a silken robe encrusted with jewels. Accompanying him is a marching military band and some cavalry. This little statue was taken to Italy over 60 years ago to be blessed by the Pope, thus gaining Him the name of the traveling Christ Child. <br />
<br />
Making your way home you catch sight of some of the participants straggling away from the parade followed by bands of laughing children who try to steal the candies and cookies which <br />
adorn the exhausted horses. I hear that the food is handed out to the needy after the parade. <br />
<br />
After all Christmas is for sharing in any part of the world.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-31957457160668873212009-12-03T09:19:00.001-05:002009-12-03T10:01:49.963-05:00Poems and Stories from another life - Part V - The Bridge<strong><span style="font-size: large;">The Bridge</span></strong> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMHxnqEZf23HcEYljsnwQtcwM-0OgPRDC7PVyi2JVITUEgWmHCFBpKhep-DK4SnGfPa8chmOGgwFe-Ir8d72_UZnCV_IcONWeTm9266hpnkeGD6_cYC4iXln7g2ssDn5XOvyoDreObA-TO/s1600-h/CB83CQCAQXLDD5CA270Y02CAQHNWZXCA7WUVMOCA1N6CI2CA5J1UWKCA5PWPKDCA7ZDHQ1CA4S453ICAVH5UPACABOKIFMCAM51NRCCA9IY0CXCA2M4C8ICAM6SH5ICAENBDUKCADFCHXHCAD25CY3CA7RZU0H.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMHxnqEZf23HcEYljsnwQtcwM-0OgPRDC7PVyi2JVITUEgWmHCFBpKhep-DK4SnGfPa8chmOGgwFe-Ir8d72_UZnCV_IcONWeTm9266hpnkeGD6_cYC4iXln7g2ssDn5XOvyoDreObA-TO/s320/CB83CQCAQXLDD5CA270Y02CAQHNWZXCA7WUVMOCA1N6CI2CA5J1UWKCA5PWPKDCA7ZDHQ1CA4S453ICAVH5UPACABOKIFMCAM51NRCCA9IY0CXCA2M4C8ICAM6SH5ICAENBDUKCADFCHXHCAD25CY3CA7RZU0H.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: xx-small;">by E. J. Brunton originally published in the Napanee Guide and Helium</span><br />
<br />
<br />
On Christmas Eve 1999 I sought some solace in the blue- domed Cathedral on the main square in Cuenca. Monsignor Luna Tobar was in fine form. His voice echoed off the gold-encrusted walls and sorrowful plaster saints. This would be the last mass I would attend here as I knew I must leave Ecuador. <br />
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</div><br />
Outside, the poor and the disenfranchised crowded the darkened square. A cold wind wrapped itself around the portals of the ancient Cathedral. During mass shabby old women and barefoot youngsters plucked at our sleeves for a handout. Many of the well-dressed pious shooed them away with looks of disgust. I was incensed. Then and there I vowed I would do something to help them. <br />
<br />
Next morning I hauled out Grandma’s big kettle and threw in lots of vegetables and meat for a hearty soup. While this bubbled away I made a pile of sandwiches and then struck off with the fragrant feast in the trunk of my car. <br />
<br />
<br />
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</div><br />
I headed for the bridge where a friend who worked with street kids told me I would find plenty of homeless people to feed. She warned me that they sniffed glue and might get a bit rowdy.<br />
<br />
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</div><br />
As I drove slowly up I saw a few kids on the grass near the Tomebamba River. With a little apprehension, I hailed them and opened the trunk. The rich aroma of the hot soup drew about a dozen ragged dirty boys. They had battle scars that they had sewn up with needle and thread as they couldn’t afford a doctor.<br />
<br />
“Feliz Navidad! Who’s hungry?” I asked unnecessarily. <br />
<br />
The boys crowded round, looking at me with curiosity, as I began to ladle the soup into plastic cups and hand out sandwiches. They wolfed this down and politely asked, <br />
<br />
“Please Senora. May I have another sandwich? More soup Please?” <br />
<br />
After their small brown puppy was fed, the leader of the boys asked if he could invite some nearby street cleaners and a family of 5 who were begging up at the corner. <br />
<br />
“Of course!” I said, as I laded out more of the thick rich soup. <br />
<br />
Another car drew up and the boys ran over. The window was rolled down just enough for the driver to thrust out a round loaf of the traditional fruity Christmas bread before the car sped off.<br />
<br />
We sat on the curb for awhile talking about their life under the bridge. They slept in cardboard boxes with more flattened boxes and newspapers as a cover. They slept close together for comfort and warmth. They sniffed glue to forget the cold and hunger, and the pain of being alone on the streets.<br />
When we parted, one by one the ragged boys hugged me. One said, “Senora. I asked myself today who will ever think of us on Christmas? Then you came along. How can we ever repay you?” <br />
<br />
“Dios se lo pague,” said another; God will pay you.<br />
<br />
Crossing the bridge to reach those boys had made my problems seem so insignificant. Their grateful smiles as they waved goodbye were all the payment I would ever need.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-11549284815403088452009-12-03T08:48:00.001-05:002009-12-03T09:05:09.266-05:00Poems and Stories from another life - Part V Loaves and Fishes<span style="font-size: large;">LOAVES AND FISHES</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">by E. J Brunton, originally published in the Napanee Guide<br />
</span><br />
<br />
<br />
“Do you think you could take more than two little girls?” Sister Maria Jose asked hopefully.<br />
<br />
I looked at Julio and he shrugged, “I don’t see why not." <br />
<br />
“Wonderful!” cried the nun and she flew out of the cold drafty room of the Orphanage before we could change our minds. <br />
<br />
<br />
That was Christmas Eve, 1992 in Cuenca, Ecuador. But the story began a month earlier when I was seized by an urge to make sock dolls. After I had about thirty done I wondered what to do with them. I called my sister-in-law and asked her advice. <br />
<br />
“Why don’t you give them to an orphanage?” was her practical reply. <br />
<br />
So that was how it started. I called the Orphanage and offered the dolls. The nun said they would be greatly appreciated but could I bring them a few days before Christmas as most of the little girls were going home for the holidays?<br />
<br />
“They go home for the holidays? I thought they were orphans,” I exclaimed. <br />
<br />
The Sister continued by way of explanation, “Yes, their families are poor and so they give them to us to feed and clothe and educate until they are 12. Of course there are some that don’t have families and they will be staying here. You couldn’t take a couple of them for Christmas could you?”<br />
<br />
I was staggered at the rapidity of what was happening here. How had a few innocent sock dolls suddenly morphed into real little dolls coming to spend the holidays with us? <br />
<br />
At the agreed upon time we went to the orphanage to leave the dolls and to meet the little girls who would come home with us on Christmas Eve. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
All of these Spanish Colonial buildings began to blur into one after awhile. They sullenly sat at the very edge of the narrow sidewalks, bordering the marble-cobbled streets. <br />
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</div>Hermano Miguel, as the orphanage was called, was typical of these fortress like structures. Its four foot thick adobe walls had stood the test of tempests and earthquakes. The large wooden doors were studded with brass nails and deeply carved. A hole cut into the door at eye level was covered in a sturdy mesh screen so that you could communicate with the concierge. The whole was locked up with an ancient wrought iron lock accessible only with a 3 pound key. <br />
<br />
The concierge let us in and showed us to a drafty room overlooking the pleasant courtyard. There were roses and trees and benches. Nestled carelessly amongst the flowers were ancient pre Colombian pots. <br />
<br />
We sat for a few minutes as a cool breeze blew stiffly in the open windows chilling us to the bone. The room was dimly lit with a single naked bulb suspended from the 18 foot ceiling. <br />
<br />
Soon Sister Maria Jose arrived. She was starched and sharply defined but she had a mischievous look that I liked immediately. She greeted us briskly and then rushed off to gather the children.<br />
<br />
After meeting the children we went shopping in the open air markets for warm sweaters, underpants, socks, candy and toys. My generous neighbours and my sister-in-law donated their children’s outgrown clothes for the rest of the kids at the orphanage. <br />
<br />
On Christmas Eve afternoon we returned to the orphanage to pick up our two little charges. I had been thinking how strange it was that no forms had been filled out and the nun had not even asked our names, where we lived, what we did, or come to inspect where the little girls would be staying. <br />
<br />
How different it was from our paranoid, bubble-wrapped society and how dangerous it could have been. Never were we asked any of these questions in the months that ensued. It is easy to see why Latin America is one of the favorite spots to pick up street children for use and abuse in various horrible enterprises such as snuff films, in the organ trade, or smuggling drugs in their lifeless bodies. <br />
<br />
Sister Maria Jose asked apologetically, “Do you think you could take more than two little girls?” <br />
<br />
Before we had time to ask how many, she was gone and back in a flash with 6 little girls ranging in age from 4 years to 12 years old. They were freshly scrubbed and ready to go. Well, it would be crowded in our two guest beds but how could you choose which ones were to stay at the orphanage? <br />
<br />
We took the girls out to the house that we were building in the country on a 5 acre lot that ran down to the river. The children gamboled about, climbing trees, picking avocados, oranges, lemons and capuli and teasing the dogs while we settled up the business of the Christmas baskets for the workers. <br />
<br />
We had about six full-time men building the house and two ladies who were clearing the fields with hoes and old-fashioned sickles with cow-horn handles. The custom was to prepare a basket with cooking oil, sugar, rice, a live chicken, salt, a can or two of tuna, some dry noodles, a bottle of cane liquor and whatever else you could fit in. <br />
<br />
Once the baskets were handed out, a drink shared and Christmas wishes exchanged. We prepared to leave. One of the ladies who had been clearing the field came rushing up. “No basket for us Don Julio? Not even a fruit bread? Since the ladies had only been working there for a couple of days we had forgotten about them. <br />
<br />
We felt terrible so Julio said,” Jump on. I’ll give you Christmas dinner.” One of the ladies protested that she couldn’t go so Julio gave her some money. The other lady, Luisa, begged us to wait a moment while she ran home to clean up.<br />
<br />
After about 15 minutes she returned. Following behind her were 6 small children ranging in age from a few months to 15 years old. The turkey we were having roasted at one of the local bakeries seemed to shrink in my mind. Could we possibly feed all these people? I should have asked Sister Maria Jose about how you did the loaves and fishes thing. <br />
<br />
Julio was his usual calm self while I tried to squelch my mounting hysteria. Once home he picked up the phone to call our friend, the resourceful Manuel. Manuel loved a challenge and readily agreed to get some more food somewhere and I set about to prepare the vegetables that would go along with the turkey which Julio had gone to retrieve. My kitchen was thronged with excited children and Luisa was peeling potatoes in quantity.<br />
<br />
I retired to a quiet corner with my own personal recipe for hysteria - a tumbler of neat rum . I counted our guests as I wondered how in the world we could come up with gifts not only for the orphans but also for the unexpected multitude. There would now be 16 people at the table or perched on the sofas and chairs. Suddenly I thought of the used clothing in my office. I wrapped up some of it for the unexpected orphans and gave the rest of it to Luisa.<br />
<br />
Pandemonium was in full swing when Julio and Manuel arrived. Julio’s natural leadership skills got everyone organized with various tasks. The kids would set the table, Manuel would carve the turkey, I would just continue to drink. “Relax, you don’t have to do a thing,” he said refilling my glass.<br />
<br />
Somehow dinner was served and everyone had their fill. It wasn’t loaves and fishes but it filled the bill.down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-48388738768701141002009-11-21T12:50:00.004-05:002009-12-03T08:11:01.675-05:00<strong><span style="font-size: large;">What used to be called cheap</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">by E J Brunton originally published in the Napanee Guide</span> </span></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sometimes I do things that make my more lavish friends smirk and shake their heads. For instance, I really have to think twice to throw away a nice clean bag, be it paper or plastic. <br />
<br />
I keep all those plastic margarine and cottage cheese tubs; save string and aluminum foil, cardboard, twist-ties and elastic bands. Christmas cards and envelopes become my note paper; unusual bottles hold flowers; tin cans with the juicy tomato picture still on them keep my pencils handy. Mesh onion bags stuffed with too small bits of wool and string can be hung in a tree as a handy dispenser for birds to choose their nesting materials.<br />
<br />
Where did I get these strange habits? Well, long before recycling became the vogue my mother was the subject of much derision amongst her friends. She kept everything; neat piles of butcher paper, huge balls of string and jars of elastic bands. Little bits of soap were saved in a curious metal basket and swished around in the dishwater. Wrapping paper was ironed and reused till it became quite a valuable antique. Tea bags were dried (on previously enjoyed aluminum pie plates) for fertilizing what she jokingly called her “tea roses”. She even saved waxed cardboard milk cartons for freezing the trout that my father brought home. No drawing paper for me when there were plenty of nice clean cardboard pieces from inside the shirts my father sent to the drycleaner.<br />
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When her friends would smirk and ask her why she was saving all that old garbage my mother would say, “Well, maybe it’s my Scottish blood or maybe it’s because I lived through war and depression. Those days left an impression on me and I just can’t waste. Why throw out perfectly useable items that you get free everyday and then go and buy those same items? <br />
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You send me pies in aluminum tins and I send mine back to you in the same tins. And that bacon grease and bread crusts in old tin cans in the freezer? I remove the tin and put that mixture into an onion bag that I hang out for the birds in winter. My husband is glad to get the kitchen waste for his compost pile and Lord knows he has a wonderful garden that I’ve heard you admire.”<br />
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Mother passed away in 1988 but the habits she instilled in me have lived on. What used to be considered cheap is now considered not only chic but indispensable with shrinking space into which to put our garbage.<br />
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I can still remember her telling me that those friends who laughed at her saving ways would sometimes ask her for a loan. I hope she didn’t rub it in, when they came with hat in hand. “I’m just like Liberace,” she would say. “I’m laughing all the way to the bank!”<br />
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Note : After posting this article I found this blog from Gaiam with some interesting green gift wrap ideas at this link <br />
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http://life.gaiam.com/gaiam/p/Top-10-Green-Gift-Wrap-Ideas.htmldown to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-12337286362547284962009-11-14T14:18:00.001-05:002009-11-14T14:19:50.457-05:00Mother's on the tightrope againI compiled the following from several news reports (CBC, BBC) on the subject.<br />
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Chinese meteorolgists have been messing about with the weather in an attempt to even out the precipitation levels. The country’s north is prone to droughts, while the south is often flooded. <br />
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In an attempt to alleviate this the government is building a huge network of tunnels and waterways that will funnel water from the south to the north, but the project is still five years from completion.<br />
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Meanwhile according to Beijing Evening News, the Weather Modification Office seeded rain clouds by spraying them 186 times with silver iodide to ease a drought that was threatening the wheat crop.<br />
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The unexpected arrival of a cold front caused the heaviest snowfall in at least 54 years. In Beijing tens of thousands of people were stranded on highways linking the city with Shanxi, Hebei, Liaoning and Inner Mongolia. Tragically, the snow also caused a primary school cafeteria's roof to collapse in Hebei, killing three children and injuring 28 others.<br />
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One report indicates that the use of salt on the roads has resulted in the death of about ten thousand trees.<br />
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When are we going to understand that when we twang the tightrope Mother loses her balance? down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-246312212925191260.post-45358162049844975702009-11-06T17:03:00.005-05:002009-11-06T17:14:59.293-05:00Unashamed Hippy II<strong><span style="font-size: large;">FREE LOVE AND HAIGHT</span></strong> <br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">By E. J. Brunton</span> <br />
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At eighteen, hoping to kill two birds with one stone, I left the bosom of my family and struck out for California. I would spend the next year at California College of Arts and Crafts in Oakland. <br />
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Art Colleges didn’t indulge in the hazing and frosh antics that Queen’s University did, so I could kill off that distasteful bird. The second bird was my burning desire to be an artist. <br />
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A year at the college was enough to kill that one too. I saw early on that while I loved to create I just didn’t have the dedication the other students possessed and creating what someone else told you to wasn’t - well, very creative.<br />
It was 1961 and the Flower Child Movement was in full swing. Golden Gate Park overflowed with dreamy, long-haired hippies in their colorful garb. <br />
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Smooth-pated, saffron-robed Hari Krishnas chanted in time to their chiming bells.<br />
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Timothy Leary extolled the virtues of lysergic acid diethyl amide, commonly known as acid or LSD. <br />
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Ubiquitous coffee houses sprouted overnight in North Beach and “happenings” were staged nightly. <br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The City Lights Book Store had telephones on every table. Each table was numbered so you could make a discreet call to another client that caught your fancy. Ginsberg was there; and Kerouac too.<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFA41KJ77lUk8KfEv0Q1PKHQ0APSUWPc_aMltFvYfYOfanOVG5IFxMUVNVoN8dCSWuYXGQmRvNvqq0-5N1XXH-2TdLQHt5Wv1gjwEydMfbFv-tvV77kQ9JyBYJE61aiZi6YOlMi01R2Qdx/s1600-h/Baez+and+Dylan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFA41KJ77lUk8KfEv0Q1PKHQ0APSUWPc_aMltFvYfYOfanOVG5IFxMUVNVoN8dCSWuYXGQmRvNvqq0-5N1XXH-2TdLQHt5Wv1gjwEydMfbFv-tvV77kQ9JyBYJE61aiZi6YOlMi01R2Qdx/s320/Baez+and+Dylan.jpg" /></a>Barefoot Baez would make appearances from time to time at some local hotspot, usually shadowed by Dylan. My room-mate gained notoriety once it was learned that she had gone to high school with Bob in Brooklyn. <br />
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</div>In the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco Free Stores abounded. You could get your dinner, a couch with no cushions, and a nearly-new pair of shoes with one quick stop.<br />
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Free love spawned lots of little Flower Children. Free Clinics looked after the venereal diseases and drug addictions that it spawned too. <br />
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Employment agencies were set up especially for these undesirable hippies, some of whom strangely wanted to work. The prospective employers would most likely be bohemians themselves who used the barter system in payment or bleeding-heart liberals who secretly admired the free and easy life style, but lived it only vicariously. <br />
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We art students made pilgrimages to this Mecca every chance we got. North Beach and Chinatown were our favorite haunts. We would buy five cents worth of bologna; then we would scavenge left-over rolls from the outdoor patio at Finnochio’s. Lunch was taken cross-legged on the grass in the park. <br />
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Thinking the fifty-cent greeting cards outrageously expensive, we copied down the verses and made our own. <br />
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And we could nurse a cup of coffee for hours listening to some of the best musicians that the jazz and folk scene had to offer. <br />
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Concha Laine, the daughter of Frankie Laine, famed for his rendition of “Ghost Riders”, was our classmate and he often visited the school. <br />
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I was in awe of my drawing teacher, Ralph Borges, who was featured in Time Magazine, the year I left. <br />
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Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, lame and blind, came to give a free concert at the school. <br />
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I learned to make silver jewelry and Found Sculpture from discarded objects, to paint with a stick instead of a brush and greatly improved my drawing skills. I learned that, unfairly, only female models took ALL their clothes off in the Life Drawing Class. <br />
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I had never had a room-mate and was not prepared for Laurie, from Brooklyn. She was short and brown with shiny-black hair and bright- blue eyes. She shaved off her eye brows and never cleaned her side of the room. Her sheets fell to tatters when the dorm mother forced her to wash them - for the first time - at the end of the year. There just wasn’t time to attend to these mundane tasks when there were poetry and songs just waiting to be written, guitars to be played and music to compose.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGY6pKuUkBKj0YUtENkD_WdwWmnsOuiSLuxBVnEQ_CEdc7164qBZuIjSksanBrHYa0LBte2CSinGDRD8n2p0qnXZ9njhG-gnbL4KhCd2mqB1h8r6ZTnWART5sD1wYNscYDivI4nY9vcAz/s1600-h/Ravi+Shankar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGY6pKuUkBKj0YUtENkD_WdwWmnsOuiSLuxBVnEQ_CEdc7164qBZuIjSksanBrHYa0LBte2CSinGDRD8n2p0qnXZ9njhG-gnbL4KhCd2mqB1h8r6ZTnWART5sD1wYNscYDivI4nY9vcAz/s320/Ravi+Shankar.jpg" /></a>We dorm kids would talk for hours as we listened to Ravi Shankar, Theodore Bikel, or my favorites, The Carter Family. Folk Music was “de rigueur” and everyone had a guitar. <br />
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</div>One night I was supposed to go to the movies with Becky and Ann, two girls from the dorm, but I begged off at the last minute. <br />
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Just down at the corner they were hailed by a man in a car and offered a ride. Anne got in but Becky wouldn’t. Before Anne could get out again the man drove off with her as Becky stood helplessly by. Anne was raped at gun point and held hostage for several hours. <br />
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Becky was able to draw a picture of the perpetrator which was broadcast nation wide and he was caught. By then Ann had escaped and next day her parents took her out of school.<br />
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It was an exciting era for a small-town girl and I have never quite recovered from it. I’m just an aging hippy and there seemed to be no cure; at least not until tonight. <br />
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Over 40 years have passed and I am looking at a television program about Haight-Ashbury in the sixties. How silly it all seems now! The make-shift weddings in the park; the wedding feast laid out on a blanket consists of a loaf of Wonder Bread in its blue and yellow plastic bag. The squalor of the drugged-out kids sitting listlessly on the street bundled in filthy quilts doesn’t look so appealing, now. The long, flowing hair looks greasy, the colorful garb, shabby. <br />
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The musical, Hair, which I watched a few days later, is Hollywood’s cleaned up eulogy to those times. <br />
The much-touted peace and love that would save the world never came to pass. The visions of a time when everything would be free are gone forever, replaced by more sinister things like crack and cocaine, heroin, ecstasy and date-rape drugs. <br />
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It really was more innocent then in the time of Love and Haight.<br />
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</div>down to earthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04676036214598474017noreply@blogger.com0