Big Vegetables

I took these pictures at the end of the garden season, but never had time to post them until now. I am only posting these to show off--forgive my vanity. The pepper weighed in at 14 ounces. I did not weigh the sweet onion but is was tasty. The onion was raised where the 2007 meat chicken pen was, and the pepper was raised where the ducks wintered.

Pig Sticker

I have been reflecting recently on how many of the tools I use on our homestead have been around this farm my entire life. The peavey I roll logs with belonged to my grandfather. The hatchet I cut ice from the animal's water tanks with was my Dad's trapping ax. When I was about five, I stole it out of the back of his 1952 Chevy and tried to cut down one of the yard maples. I got in some trouble for that.

One of the tools I used recently was my Dad's Kabar knife. It has been used by three generations for certain butchering tasks and it has a story. At the end of World War Two, a retuning sailor who was a friend or relative gave it to my then teenage dad. I am sorry I cannot remember who. I am also sorry I never asked my Dad if he chose to take it with him when he was drafted in 1951.

While the Kabar was designed as a fighting knife, Dad used it as a boy kill chickens for the table, and his dad used it to stick pigs to bleed them out. Dad had to butcher one chicken every Sunday for Sunday supper. Sunday supper was always chicken and jello, both regarded as treats by his mother. My dad hated both as an adult.

During my childhood, the Kabar lived most of the year in a drawer in the basement. When I was old enough, my dad showed me how to use it in lieu of a cleaver to butcher deer. He never carried it hunting, as a pocketknife is adequate to gut, and he had another knife to skin.

As an adult who returned to the family farm, dad showed me how to flick the Kabar to cleanly decapitate a chicken. He also showed me how to quickly stick a hog after shooting it to bleed out the animal properly.

The sailor also brought my dad another gift; a portable airfield light that ran on 12 volt car batteries. While heavy, the light was portable and very powerful. Dad put it to less mundane use than the Kabar. His sister Irene had a boyfriend and Dad had my family's perverse sense of humor. One night he hid in one of the outbuildings with the light and a shotgun while Irene was out with her beau. He waited until the beau walked Irene to the porch for a goodnight kiss. At that moment, a very bright light struck the lovers and a shotgun blast exploded in the air. The beau took off and Irene eventually married another.

The Landlord comes to Grace Church

My parish only has a church home due to the graciousness of the Highland Presbyterian Church. Tonight the landlord showed up, and was the guest preacher, though "guest" may not be the best phrase for someone preaching from their own pulpit. I was a little nervous about what we might hear. There are some big differences between a conservative Anglican and a conservative Presbyterian, but by sticking to the Gospel, he delivered a sermon that would have been well received in any church that believes we are sinners in need of a Savior. He stuck to the material in proclaiming the Word to those of us who need to hear it.

However, I am saddened to learn that the National Presbyterian Church is seeking to follow the Episcopal Church down the road to theological liberalism. The national church body has approved changes to the basic confessional documents that would remove references to certain politically incorrect sins. The local Beaver-Butler Presbytery is much more conservative than the national church. The Landlord is trying to return his church to repentance and its basic confessional roots. He has a blog about it here. I wonder whether more congregations or the entire presbytery will not depart PCUSA and reform or realign with a more conservative Presbyterian body.

This part of Pennsylvania is known as the Presbyterian Valley. As the landlord says, you can throw a dead cat in these parts and be pretty sure it will land on a Presbyterian. We live in a rural township, but are an easy walk to two Presbyterian churches, and a bit longer walk to a third. I am not a Presbyterian because of differences of belief, but I honor the heritage of that church body. We would not have a country were it not for Presbyterians and other Calvinists. Any honest reading of American History will acknowledge this. The Presbyterian emphasis on education is one of the bright spots about this area, with institutions like Geneva and Grove City Colleges. It would be a sad thing to see this heritage lost in the mire of the postmodern incoherence of theological liberalism. The landlord is in my prayers.

Agrarians, Biblical Agrarians , Farming, and Homesteading

Reader Linda recently asked these questions, There are some things that confuse me. What is an "agrarian"? Why do some call themselves "biblical agarians"? What constitutes a "homestead" and why is that different than a farm?

She also has a fine blog and lives in my neck of the woods. I have answered below, but I would love some input from others on these questions.

Here are some attempts at an answer to these very good questions.

What is an agrarian? I pulled my copy of American Conservatism: An Encyclopedia, off the shelf. Here is the start of the entry for agrarianism. "Agrarianism, posits that the practices associated with the agricultural life are particularly, and on some cases uniquely-well suited to yield important personal, social, and political goods".
The article then goes on to explain various schools of agrarian thought and their differences. Kind of an egghead philosophical definition that runs over three pages.

I like Herrick Kimball's definitions better, from the forward of his book, Writings of a Deliberate Agrarian. I bought the book at Lehman Hardware a couple of years ago, but I did not see it last time I was there. Here are a couple of excerpts.....

"Agriculture-the cultivation of the earth and animals to produce food is fundamental to what is means to be an agrarian...closely related to the act of producing food is the agrarians' reverence for creation in its many forms". Herrick also makes a simple but profound statement that "The interconnected relationships and dependencies between land, family, local community, and the local church which were once so strong and central to the everyday existence of godly people, have virtually disappeared in the modern age".

Here is my poorer definition.

An agrarian is someone that ascribes to a belief that the family household is the basic unit of society (not the state or the government), and that the household should produce as much of its own food, fuel, and other necessities as possible. After the household, needs should be met from within the local community. Farming is prominent in agrarianism because we all need to eat, and most of us like to eat several times a day. This makes food production the most basic of those material needs. This does not mean everyone needs to be a farmer. Those that cannot farm can still garden. Those that cannot garden can still cook (And buy food from real farmers)

Why bother with all that work?

1. Industrial prepackaged food is unhealthy and often inferior in taste.
2. Self dependency will see a family through hard times
3. Frugality is still a virtue, in spite of what advertisers say.
4. It is satisfying to provide much of our own heat and food
5. Strong families will build strong communities, which results in a strong nation

What is a Biblical Agrarian?
A Christian Agrarian or Biblical Agrarian ascribes to these same things based upon their understanding of the Bible and Christian theology. A key verse would be 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12. Some Biblical Agrarians believe in varying degrees of separation from society at large. In our area, the Amish would meet this definition pretty well.

I have to confess here that I am not a "Christian Agrarian" or "Biblical Agrarian". I am an Agrarian, and I am a believing Christian. I am very hesitant to mix my belief in Christ crucified for my sins with ANY other philosophy or political economy. My calling is to stay in this place and garden, tend flocks, and cut wood. I would never presume to believe that my calling is necessary for anyone to be a Christian.
What is the difference between Farming and Homesteading?

Farming is part of what we do for money. We sell cows, timber, cider, hay or market lambs and get paid in the Federal Reserve notes that pass for money these days.

Homesteading is what we do for ourselves. We raise a lot of stuff we never sell, such as blueberries, tomatoes, sweet corn, cabbage, etc. I think the term "homesteading" as used today comes from the excellent Countryside Magazine, billed as the journal of modern homesteading. Homesteading includes not only raising, but preserving and cooking the food. I think "homesteading" by the Countryside definition is the essence of agrarianism:

It's not a single idea, but many ideas and attitudes, including a reverence for nature and a preference for country life; a desire for maximum personal self-reliance and creative leisure; a concern for family nurture and community cohesion; a belief that the primary reward of work should be well-being rather than money; a certain nostalgia for the supposed simplicities of the past and an anxiety about the technological and bureaucratic complexities of the present and the future; and a taste for the plain and functional.Countryside reflects and supports the simple life, and calls its practitioners "homesteaders."


Years ago, I tried more farming than homesteading. Government policies deflate the value of farm commodities. We refuse to accept subsidies. Money is worth less each day. I learned we are economically better off growing more for ourselves and less to sell. This is a story unto itself that I will tell sometime.

An Agrarian Dog

Last night my wife an I drove 20 miles north to an Amish Dairy farm, and brought home a Rat Terrier puppy. My wife and I considered the matter carefully following the death of our beloved German Shepherd. We both like having a watchdog-not an attack dog; just a dog that lets us know that someone is in the driveway. A watchdog gives us time to see whether putting on an extra supper plate, or grabbing a shotgun is in order. My cowdog is too old and set in her routine to live indoors. We decided a smaller dog would be a nice change for our small house. We were looking for a Feist or rat terrier, which are really two strains of the same dog.

I believe the pup is the 23rd dog I have owned in my life. When I was a little agrarian kid, we always had at least a couple of rat terriers around, often with a touch of beagle blood. Unlike Jack Russell Terriers, the Rat Terriers always seem to be more calm and biddable. Yet they still have courage to spare. My childhood dogs would flush the pheasants that were plentiful then and push rabbits from the brush piles. Unlike a beagle,they would come home when I was ready to quit hunting for the day. We seldom had cats, but the dogs would chase mice and rats with glee. Nobody pulled in the driveway without their yapping, and they were clean house dogs. These dogs were a multi generational part of life here. The oldest picture I have of my father shows him at about age five with a litter of terrier pups. I have an older picture of my grandfather and my oldest uncle, probably about 1915, with a little feist type dog in the picture.

In reading the history of these little dogs, I learned that my family was not exceptional in keeping them. They were an integral part of traditional American small farms across the country. Their heyday lasted until the 1940's and 1950's when chemical rat poisons began to replace terriers on farms.

So what to name an agrarian dog? there seemed to be one obvious choice---Wendell.

Tractor trouble

Recently the larger of our two tractors failed to start after loading wood. It is a JD 990 that has performed flawlessly for the past 6 years or so. My first guess was the 15 amp fuse, but it seemed to be more of a battery problem. I took the battery to a local chain store, and they tested it and said a cell was dead. I bought a new battery, went home and installed it and the tractor still would not turn over. I then became worried. When I was a little agrarian kid, we always had old tractors and lots of mechanical problems. Some of my earliest memories are serving as a human work light for my Dad, holding the flashlight while he cursed at a stubborn part or broken bolt. Repairs cost money; even if you or a friend to provide the labor, tractor parts are frightfully expensive.

I called a more knowledgeable friend, and we proceeded to analyze the alternator, wiring and fuses. Two hours later, he came to the last possibility; the new battery was not working. After two more trips to the battery store, I finally ended up with a battery that would start my tractor.

While this time and trouble was upsetting, it was less so because we have two tractors. Our second machine is a little New Holland TZ18 we bought earlier this year. While messing around with the battery store, I could still haul wood and do basic chores. My lovely wife and I both agree we would give up the second car before the second tractor. With a wife like that, I am a lucky man.

The TZ18 mows the lawn, and the loader moves manure and other loose materials.

The 990 plows, disks, brush hogs, does hay work,spreads manure, and moves most of the firewood. Here are some "plow cam" views I took back in September.






Here is the 990 plowing the garden last spring.



Many small farmers like animal power. I have a cousin that prefers draft horses and mules to tractors. Others like the older gas tractors, such as the Farmall, Allis Chalmers, and Ford models from the 1940's and 1950's. I am not a generally a believer in progress, but I like modern diesel tractors.compared to a horse, my tractors have never kicked me, bit me, jumped a fence and tramped through the neighbors yard, or taken off in terror upon seeing a bird. My nostalgia for the old gasoline tractors of my youth vanished after the third time we replaced the same parts on our old Ford NAA.

Cowshiners

Saturday, my wife and I ran over to the local dairy where we buy our raw milk. We drink about two gallons of milk a week, unless we are making cheese or cooking a lot. The dairy is a nice 15 minute country drive, and the milk is $4.00 per gallon. Over the past few weeks, I have been noticing more cars with Ohio plates, and more people buying LOTS of milk. Last Saturday, this culminated in a woman buying somewhere around 40 gallons of raw milk to take back home to Cleveland. We, and two other local people waited patiently while this lady filled her 40+ jugs one at a time from the bulk tank. She will drive the 90 miles home and fill her freezer, then thaw the milk as she needs it.

The State of Ohio, in its infinite wisdom has deemed raw milk too dangerous a substance to be sold to the general public. Our local licensed raw milk dairy is the nearest place these poor people can come to legally get milk that has not been pasturized and homogenized so it can taste like swill and probably lose its nutrients. I keep telling the dairy to send a Christmas card to the Ohio Department of Agriculture. ODA might miss the card, because they seem to be busy conducting undercover stings against anyone who would sell raw milk.

I have a strong taste preference for raw milk. I also like that I can look inside the dairy and see how the cattle who are giving me their milk are treated. I like seeing that the milking parlor and milk house are clean. I like not having to milk a goat twice a day (Which we used to do) and still having decent milk. However, I can only enjoy this because of my good fortune at being born a few miles east of the Pennsylvania-Ohio line.

I have been to Youngstown, Ohio. It is a heartbreaking place. The main businesses seem to be selling illegal drugs, drug addict women selling their bodies,auto lots with cheap cars to leave town. and bars to drown out the reality of living in Youngstown. I would think that the law enforcement resources of the state of Ohio might be better put to a place like that than undercover sting operations against dairy farmers. However, I suspect ODA's undercover goons are too cowardly to go up against real criminals.

As the lady pulled away, I remembered the old time moonshiners, running cars full of whiskey. I like to think of her as a "Cowshiner" a kind of 21st Century suburban moonshiner. I hope the ODA doesn't pull her over, dump the milk and Taser her. I hope that mini van can go fast enough to outrun them. Good luck cowshiner lady.


Some of the girls who keep us in milk.