“We are in danger of destroying ourselves by our greed and stupidity. We cannot remain looking inwards at ourselves on a small and increasingly polluted and overcrowded planet.”
Stephen Hawking
warning: the content of this blog was written by an angry farmer and concerned citizen. It is lengthy. Be prepared.
I applied early decision to Sewanee. It was a stretch for my parents. They are long time UNC Chapel Hill fans and graduates. It would have been easier had I gone to college in North Carolina, in state.
When asked me why I wanted to go to Sewanee the answer was: they have a horse barn, and hiking trails, and… it’s not in the city. My parents questioned my answer and said “You’re not going to camp. You’re going to get an education.”
About 3 months in I found myself incredibly homesick. A group of students were at the barn, my only refuge, talking about weekend plans. I dreaded weekends. “I’m going home” one girl said. Home. My home was 6 hours away. Too far to go for a weekend. I missed my Mom. “Can I go?” I barely knew her. “Yes”.
The first time I drove up the mountain from Trenton I knew. This is it. This is where my heart is planted. Her Mom fixed a fantastic dinner, homemade veggie burgers, and biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Strawberry freezer jam from Aunt Ima. A trail ride at a friends farm where we got caught in a gigantic thunder storm. I never wanted to leave.
Who knew I would end up here after years in Wyoming (another place I never wanted to leave). That the girl would be one of my best friends. That I would know how to drive a horse trailer, drive a horse, drive a tractor. Plant a garden, plug a tire, pull a calf. Can food for the winter, make a quilt, build miles of fence, play a bluegrass song (well, that one’s a stretch:).
Which brings me to my point. I moved here from the city, so I feel like a hipocrite. But the people I have met here in the country are resourceful, smart, self-reliant, amazing people. They are generous and have taught me. Handed me heirloom seeds, lovingly tended and carefully saved. If you live in rural America, you know. They are being pushed out. Pushed out by development. Pushed out by “recreation”. Pushed out by big roads and big money. Pushed out by politicians who care more about themselves and their pocket books than they care about small towns and farming communities.
Almost 3 decades ago, sadly, 11,000 acres of farmland was sold and partially developed, Mountain Cove Farms. We live on part of it…we lovingly call it the Davis farm. We call it that after the previous owners who we never knew. We were told they had the most beautiful herd of Charlais cattle around. We cherish the big skies and clear starry nights. The deer, and birds of prey, the coyotes and cotton rats, and most recently the swallow tailed kites (pictured above). The clear streams that run on both sides of our farm.
We have been here for 10 years now, and I blame myself for part of the change. As a friend of mine says, if you’re in traffic you are traffic. I am traffic. We built a house. A barn.
And now, someone has bought the land next to us. They are bulldozing trees and building wide roads. Undoubtedly they will put up street lights on those wide roads, and the light pollution will dull the beautiful skies. They are from the city. They wanted to move to the country. For the clean air. For the clear water. They are building 4, maybe 6 houses. Development? Yes.
Mclemore, a golfing community is 15 minutes away. They are putting a gun range down the street. Why so far away from the development? You ask. So did we. Because they don’t want their residents to have to listen to guns being fired all day.
They had a meeting. Gave the residents of our community little notice. They are putting it next door to a generational family farm. “Sporting Clays”. The zoning board voted it down. And yet, it magically is still on the table. Let’s let the politicians decide. They are meeting next Thursday. You and I both know how that will turn out.
So today I’m on my soap box. I promise only one week. But please sign up to follow David Cook’s “Food as a Verb” blog. He is bringing light to some of these issues that desperately need a voice. For people who need a voice. Can you imagine a country with no farmland? No pastural views, no cattle or crops? Rural America is disappearing. We are being pushed out.
What’s in the bucket? Napa cabbage, carrots, radishes, iceberg lettuce, mustard greens, bell peppers.
The recipe this week comes from my friend – her beautiful mother’s cherished oat burger recipe. She passed away 2 years ago. Serve them with a Napa cabbage and carrot slaw, and put a giant iceberg lettuce leaf and red pepper slice on a Neidlov’s burger bun. I thought it appropriate to send it in her writing….but in case you can’t decipher, I have typed it out below.
Glenda’s Oatburgers
41/2 cups water
1/2 cup soy sauce
1 cup sunflower seed
41/4 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup oil
1/2 T Italian seasoning
2 T yeast flakes
1 chopped onion
Bring water and soy sauce to a boil. Add Oats and cook about 8 minutes on medium heat .
While cooling, saute onions until tender. Then add oat mixture and rest of ingredients. Form into Patties with wide mouth jar lid. Bake at 350 degrees until brown. About 20-25 minutes.
Serves 6
Happy Eating. Thanks for supporting rural land, local farms and please stand up for clean water, clean air and family farms. Once it is lost, it cannot be reclaimed.