Archive for June, 2010

There are times when forms and forces combine on many levels to reveal a portal through which our individual and collective consciousness can glimpse a vision of things to come. The Greeks called it Kairos time. It is not chronological, it is opportunistic. It is often what we make of these times that determines the course of our future. Plucking the solution from the problem, we reign in the moment.

The loophole here being that oft times these little energetic eddies just freak us out and send us reaching for the ____________(your favorite tranquilizer/comfort food here).  The more comfortable we are, the harder it is to go with the information that points to change and the more we change the harder it is to get comfy. So here's some advise from a war torn vet, get used to it bubelah, for within the apparent and endless discomfort of the process lies hidden the noogie of Truth. Heed the noogie.

So we've had a cow hanging around the property, walking through fences and taking strange and circuitous routes through the orchard to get to God only knows what. Seems very random. Remarkably little damage to the plant life has been done. I have visions of this lumbering critter on tippy toe, wearing a tutu and pirouetting through the pathways, sniffing the Malabar chestnut blooms and having a gay old time living out some bovine fantasy. No sign in the past few days, so I think the ranch guys found it.

To compound the problem, the young orphaned deer who are too weak to be scared are showing up in the lower orchard to find some green forage, but mostly to find some niche and drop dead. The other day nurse Natty had her first conniption over the walking jerky that got into the market garden and ground her recently planted and thriving comfrey into a patch of dirt. Not amused. She has now joined the N.R.A. and is saving up for a down payment on an uzi.

Project "fencemout" is in its penultimate stage. We've got about another three hundred feet on the northern border to fence and then its mostly gates for entry and exit. We're still waiting for the storied trickle down economics to move the project along at more than its usual and acceptable snails pace and have actually had a contribution from one of the farms most avid supporters. Thanks mah.

Speaking of which, thanks to all of you who made the fortieth anniversary celebration an event worthy of bottling and shipping worldwide. I consider the energy generated at these gatherings to be our nations most valuable renewable resource.

Let us rock; oh lord, in whose wisdom we reside, we pray that you let us bop till we drop so that he who cometh here will  know us for our works and will proclaim, "last time I heard music this good, I paid sixty bucks for a seat, and that was at the back of the auditorium".

Only regret. Missed Nancys peach cobbler.............again. A treat which transforms polite party goers into ravaging hordes.

Had a hiccup at the farmers market last week. Zoning department shut er' down. Yup, that's right. Shut er' down without so much as a grace period to comply with the minor fixes needed to bring full legitimacy to the proceedings. Shut er' down in spite of causing cases of incomus interrupticus  that could be felt for miles. Shut er' down because some merchants in town feel threatened by the competition and would rather see us removed than to allow the public access to our goods and services. What fun.

Me and Natty decided to get political and went down to the market site with signage explaining the situation and phone numbers for the relevant county officials. Sure enough, bunches of people intent on shopping came by and were outraged I tell ya', outraged. Why there were people flippin' their cell phones left and right, petitions being circulated and a feeling of empowerment akin to running a yellow light. We got home feelin' all full of ourselves, ate some s'mores and went into glucose shock.

We have government that preaches support of local agriculture, but what they mean is Monsanto, what remains of sugar and pineapple, cattle ranching and monocrops like onion, flowers and cabbage. When it comes to diversified ag., not a clue, and when it comes to support of the small diversified farmer, I'm not feelin' the love yet. But then I've only been at it for twenty five years. A drop in the bucket for gubmint time.

Congratulations go out to Grimes for his successful cd release/bar mitvah bash at Stella Blues. He agreed, at the last minute to share the room with the Feldmans from Boise who had lost their venue to a scheduling mishap. The combination of Grimes inspired tunes and recitation of Torah will long resonate in my skull.

We've had the blessing of rain grace our parched patch of scrub and rock. May even bring out a bit of green in the next day or two. The clouds continue to intrude by day giving us a little rest from the beating that the sun delivers this time of year. We're looking good on fruit coming up late summer and into the fall, the veggie gardens are gulping down the water and with the exception of some birds foraging the young greens,  thriving.

Always lots to do. When I set my mind on how much, the danger of spontaneous combustion looms. We've got a couple of couples coming in July which means we can get to the rest of  the fencing, the building of additional chicken paddocks (for the rotation system) and the systematic pruning of trees to create piles of mulch and allow more breeze and light into the orchard. I couldn't feel better about the slow but steady progress the farm is experiencing and how its vision continues to grow with the diversity of species and myriads of energetic connections. Its gotten to the point where I no longer have to think about what to do; the farm tells me. I'm all ears.

So welcome back summertime. Thanks for your sweetening heat and the warm ground on my feet. For the ripening fruit and the succulent root. For sunshine on tap and a serious afternoon nap. It is a time when energies converge and conspire to bring about the abundance of harvest. It is a Kairos time, full of hope and uncertainty. Expect the unexpected.

The more you show, the more we'll grow. Peace, Jp

Now THIS is reality t.v.. Does it get any better than the view from the Skandi two ROV as one of the chemical dispersant wands is dropped by a mechanical claw hand somewhere in the tangled mass that used to be the blowout preventer and the little bugger ROVer scampers to get the thing, 'cause its still spewing clouds of chemical taint into the more or less pristine waters of ground zero. The wands effluent is now clouding the camera and turning everything a kind of eerie and ghostly white. All indistinct like.

Does it become any more stunningly obvious that this latest attempt to retrieve some precious precious goo and stanch the flow is anything more than a poorly cut pipe and a rocket looking cap thingy that appears to be spewing more oil than before.

Well hold on there cowboy. There's vents in that there cap, and we're doin' what we can to shut those boogers without allowing the buildup of ice crystals which will prevent my precious precious goo from flowing to the shareholders wallets. Wallets which would otherwise, and rightfully so, be directed at purchasing something with a more lucrative return, and we can't have that.

And all this, from the sci-fi like technical wizardry to the socio-political whirlygig brought to you live from five thousand feet below the surface of the ocean, twenty four seven and without commercial interruption, although during the lost wand debacle, the server did "go down" for awhile. I'm wondering when we'll see the bud light ads start up.

Is it morbid to be fascinated by the appearance of helplessness in the face of this catastrophic episode? Like the eyes of death, fierce and offering no escape.

Oh, don't be such a poopy pants. Dontcha know that in the course of any given year, the gulf floor belches up the equivalent of an exxon valdez spill and that happy little bacteria gob gob gobble it right up? So which is it? Efficient and effective goo gobblers will take care of biz, or we get beyond the attempts to spin this thing. Its right there. Almost impossible to misinterpret. Really.

"Its almost like history unfolding before our very eyes, unky jp."

"It really is, little fella, it really is."

Surprisingly, I wasn't flooded by comments regarding the last blog, in which I described our little chicken 'speriment. I know, its pretty obvious that we have a ways to go in being able to say we don't need anything from the outside world to feed the chooks, and for now we can just try to tune the system, nutritionally and economically. Now I know you're just dying to hear how we're gonna work toward a system which produces enough food for the birds to lay up to snuff and eliminate, as much as possible the need to buy feed.

What you do is this, you build out two to three paddocks for each flock of chickens and rotate them between the paddocks while planting the previously occupied one(s) with the kinda stuff they like to eat. Throw in a few things for you too. You can plant all kinds of trees and shrubs which will get a good start while the chooks are browsing the other enclosures down to fertile dirt.

Its a bit labor intensive at first because of fencing and netting for the roof, but once built out your good to go with only minor repairs and maintenance for years to come. Some of our paddocks approach four thousand square feet with six subterranean levels conducting important research into all things chicken. Do you have any idea how much chicken poo is produced each year, world wide? These are the statistics that can only be found on sub level six. Highly classified stuff. Don't go sniffin around.

Its been a productive week. We had the blessing of cloud cover for the past few days, just in time for planting out a couple of hundred green vegetable starts as well as some amaranth. First time for us on the amaranth. Never really tried the grain and look forward to it. They sure are pretty plants and stand out in any garden. They look like skinny green beings with lots of arms and reddish brown dread locks.

Nurse Natty and I put in about ten olive trees of three different varieties. She was a big help, but a bit out of sorts that morning owing to the ingestion of an electric brownie the night before which had her wearing a befuddled smile all day. She told me later that day that she thought we were laying out a croquet course .

Purchased the trees from a guy and his partner. They showed so much enthusiasm for the humble olive tree. Somewhere between zealous religious convert and hyper caffeinated dentist. Very knowledgeable and totally into it. I'm sure that before they're done there will be tens of thousands of olive trees on Maui. And why not booby? The upcountry dry lands are perfectly disposed to the cultivation of this most hardy tree.

I'm told that two trees, properly pruned and maintained will yield a gallon or more of oil per year and that the second and third pressings can be used for cooking as well as a bio-diesel fuel source. Booya. We got twenty trees to start with and are planning out the next grove to be planted as soon as the remaining trees develop good root systems. Along with mac nut, kukui, jatropha and castor bean we are on our way to making a blend of oils to help fuel the farms future.

Hopefully within a couple of years, we'll be able to harvest enough fruit to supply all our oil and table olive needs for the year. That would be cool squared.

Lets see, what else. Oh yeah, a reminder of the party coming up on the nineteenth of June (that's a Saturday). Its a pot luck starting around four/five-ish and celebrates forty years of life on Maui. Kamaaina or what? It's also Caley Nightingaley's last night on Maui after a six month "internship" at the Rancho which no doubt, will have her mumbling non-sequiturs for years to come. Shhhhhh, don't tell her, but the plan is to have her sing her heart out all night and give us old guys the joy of backing up a young diva if ever there was.

She has been the picture of the perfect wwoofer and has successfully moved from knucklehead to pin head to chowder head in a mere six months. This is akin to finishing college in nine weeks. We have a different way of seeing around these parts. I'm already missing the sound of her singing showering the gardens.

I get the feeling that oil is to earth as seratonin is to human bodily fluids. I sense that this gushing insult depletes not only the soul of those who empathize but the spirit of the planet which we, for the most part infest with the mentality of goblins gone berserker. We are a bit of a problem, aren't we? If we can't turn to methods like permaculture and lifestyles that conform to the realities of living with nature, there is little to stop the lemming thing we're doing now, which will get increasingly dire as we reinforce the wrong priorities.

One thing that gives me hope is moving through the farm and seeing how much I've grown with the rest of the flora and fauna. There is a sense of connection to outcome that is really rare in a mostly compartmentalized existence  where we allow ourselves the luxury of not caring. Hopeless is not helpless. Ways exist. Kinda fun, really. Its like tossing yourself into the chaos instead of figuring out ways to avoid it. Lets go see Avatar again, in the comfort of our completely dark and comfy space with hyper three d laser goggles, on mushrooms. There now, much better.

The more you show, the more we'll grow. Peace, Jp