Archive for the ‘locavore’ Category

Hill-Stead Farmer’s Market

July 17, 2010

To market, to market to buy a fat pig, home again, home again jiggedy jig!

I used to think of myself as a farmer’s market connoisseur, since I’ve been a devotee of them long before the “eat local” craze happened. I trolled around markets in Vermont, driving my edible booty home to Connecticut in my back seat. Once on the cutting edge of fashion, now I don’t even have to leave Farmington for my weekly organic kibble. I can just stroll over to Hill-Stead Museum with my reusable sack over my arm. The trend for farmer’s markets is growing fast. There are urban farms, urban markets, country farms and country markets. They are thick on the ground in trendy suburbs. We need many more. It seems evident that an important key to restoring all manner of food integrity is local farming. In a sense, we are harvesting our food tradition to sow a food future. And it’s not just some la-di-dah keeping up with the Jones kind of food trend, either. You could argue that the value of recycling our food culture is fundamental to our long-term well-being, both at the stove and elsewhere, and is reflective of something organic in ourselves.

“Well-being” isn’t what prompts us to visit a farmer’s market. Rather, it is almost as though there is a part of our cultural DNA that has been wanting for decades, to get us back to the activity of “market day”. What would Thomas Hardy be without them? Many a plot is turned in the market square of literature. Think of Jane Austen, George Eliot, The Brontes, Mrs. Gaskell. There are today markets held all over Europe throughout the year, whereas most of ours, for now at least, seem to be summertime phenomena. Why do so many of us get so excited about about a few stands of vegetables and flowers popping up in the same location up every seven days? Why have some cultures never left off doing it?

A farmer’s market provides a “front porch” for a culture that has sadly grown away from such things. We see neighbors, offer tips to strangers about how to use an unfamiliar vegetable, embrace a fondly remembered farmer. Mr. Bingley bows deeply there to Miss Bennet. As so often also happens at the Hill-Stead poetry festival, one hears happy whoops of recognition punctuating the atmosphere as we see old friends. We begin to make new relationships, too. The crowd is heterogeneous, and thus community is made, not just among a few select neighbors, but in a town and region.

A farmer’s market turns us toward one another, emphasizing our fundamental interdependence on the level of comestible and emotional sustenance. There are other organic connections we cannot name. Joining together over food is perhaps the oldest form of community, save for procreation itself. Earthiness is, as it turns out, a great leveler.

Join us this Sunday and every Sunday until October 24, 11am-2pm, rain or shine. Beyond the vegetables, you’ll find quite a lot that is special. Enjoy companionship, hear music, get community information at our tent, pet a farm animal, drink a coffee or simply enjoy the atmosphere. After you’re done with that, take a walk on one of the historic trails. For a small fee, go inside the house and see rare art and glimpse a lost lifestyle.

For more information on our website: http://hillstead.org/activities/farmersmarket.html

And look for me, I’ll be there. Or, I’ll see you on the trails,

Diane Tucker
Estate Naturalist

Green, not Glam

May 22, 2009

It’s  fashionable to be “green”.  Everyone wants to have a “recession garden”-a new twist on the Victory Garden.  Everyone wants to recycle.  We all want to save energy.  I’m right on board.  In fact, I’m living it.  As a naturalist, I  spend time out on the trails.  But for writing, research and developing curriculum, I can operate to some extent from my home.  So, I am a telecommunter.  Translation:  I make a lot of phone calls. 

vegetables

Since I work  from my home, I can do laundry at will, water the garden, hang laundry in the sun, grow my own organic vegetables, cook healthy, non-processed dinners for my family, ride my bike for errands and use an eco-friendly, electric lawn mower. 

What that really means is that I always look like something the cat dragged in, since I have just weeded, planted, cooked or sweated my way through errands on my bike.  Don’t ask what my hair looks like after the bike helmet comes off, either.  And given that I work from home, I have no chance and very little reason, save vanity, to take the time to change my clothes.   But I’m organic!

clothes line

Much has been written recently about locavores, organic gardens and trends toward home-grown vegetables. They say people want to control where their food comes from, make sure that it is as healthful, fresh and tasty as possible.  Theodate Pope was the lucky one.  She had 23 gardeners, and a staff of farmers to bring her local produce to the table.  Most of us in the twenty-first century don’t have that luxury.  She had award-winning apples and peaches,  and a special cow, Anesthesia’s Faith, who gave more pounds of milk than any cow around.  If we’re lucky, most of us have a nice tomato patch over which we fight with squirrels, raccons and chipmunks for control.  At my house, I think maybe the chipmunks are winning.

But there is no doubt of the fashion that “being green” connotes.  There is even a TV network, Planet Green, featuring such eco-luminaries as Emeril Lagasse, Ed Begley and Bill Nye the Science Guy.   On their programs, we come to see the error of our power-consuming, trash-creating ways.  And of course, these shows are emphasizing some important points.  But it isn’t as easy as it looks on TV to really live even a “greenish” lifestyle.

At a recent talk by Roger Swain (former host of “Victory Garden” on PBS) he told of the dramatic rise in profit at garden centers, up 20% last year, 30% this year.  50% more people gardening!  A New York Times article recently commented on the phenomenon, too.  They asked people how much time they expected to work in the garden in order to reap a harvest.  Most said about an hour a week.  I hope they like woody radishes (not enough water), weeds, seedy lettuce and tiny wild tomatoes. In order to actually eat what you plant, the time commitment may be up to several  hours a day, depending on the size of the garden.  Mine isn’t big, and I spend at least an hour every day.

The rage is these new lightbulbs-CFL’s.  They last a really long time and don’t use up the same amount of electricity as the old kind.  They cost an arm and a leg.  So, if you are really dedicated you can switch out all your light bulbs, but it will cost you hundreds.  Not many families can make that commitment.

Composting, now, that seems easy.  Just save those little vegetable scraps, (of which you will have many since you are eating less meat thus reducing your carbon footprint), and dump it outside with some leaves and grass clippings.  Nature does the rest.  Not so fast.  It’s a little like taking out the garbage.  No one wants to schlep out to the pile.  And the little caddy on the counter has to be cleaned now and again.  Sometimes they get a little rank.

 The grass clippings, of course, cannot be obtained without mowing the lawn yourself.  If you use a ”green” type of mower, you are going to get a maximum cutting swath of about 20 inches.  A flat half acre will take you a good two hours, and you’re going to have to empty the grass catcher about three times.  On the other hand, a gas-powered mulching mower emits as much pollution as seventeen cars.  When I had a lawn service they had about three of those things scooting around the yard all at once.

neuton

A new thing I heard not too long ago was that we ought to be unplugging appliances like microwaves, coffee makers, cable boxes, etc. when not in use as they are “phantom” wasters of electricity.  I’m working on this one, but it’s hard to get used to. 

Laundry is a big one.  People with children do loads every day.  The dryer in many houses runs for hours.  Laundry smells great when you hang in on the line, and you can save a pile of money that way.  But a conservative estimate of the time it swallows to do this is about half an hour, counting hanging and collecting. 

It’s hard to sustain an eco-friendly life unless you have one thing:  time.  The average American has less of it all the time.  Most people have good will about taking care of the earth, but realistically it’s a big commitment.  What a choice to make-convenience or planetary ruin!  I feel a crushing sense of responsibility.  When I spend time outside, I recommit. 

See you on the trails,

Diane Tucker, Estate Naturalist


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