Lift Up Your Hearts!

My teacher readers have permission to roll their eyes now, but I've finally figured out the reason for those stupid vocabulary exercises we did in school—look up the word, define the word (don't just copy the dictionary), use the word in a sentence ("XXX is a vocabulary word" doesn't count), test on Friday.  I dutifully complied, but don't believe I learned any new word that way.  I'm very good at remembering something long enough to pass a test, but what increases my vocabulary is reading, hearing, and using new words in context.

Having subscribed (thanks to my father) for many years to A.Word.A.Day, and recently extended my random vocabulary fun to Free Rice (thanks to my brother), I realized that the point of vocabulary work is not to learn new words!  The purpose is to increase one's awareness of new words.  Perhaps slower, more careful readers do not have this problem, but I devour books, and any word I don't know is glossed over, its general meaning derived from context and the word itself forgotten.  However, if my awareness of the word has been raised through seeing or hearing it before, even if I don't know the meaning it will begin to pop out of the page at me, and gradually become incorporated into my working vocabulary.

So for me, and I suspect many others, vocabulary lessons are useless outside of the context of an environment rich in words, but given that context they are a useful tool after all.  I wonder, however, if they are of any use at all to children who will not go on to encounter the words in real life.  Another example of the rich getting richer and the poor poorer, I suppose.

Thanks to the Prodical Kiwi(s) Blog for alerting me to this video of a talk by Sir Ken Robinson on nurturing (or not nurturing) creativity.  It wasn't as informative as I had hoped, but it hits some high points and is at least amusing.  Not everyone can take the time to read John Taylor Gatto's phone book sized The Underground History of American Education.  My apologies to all my teacher readers (who no doubt wish they had more freedom to nurture creativity) and epecially the university professors.  :)  I really like the story of dancer and choreographer Gillian Lynne.

The other day we were told, by one whose buisness it is to predict these things, that no matter who wins the upcoming presidential election, our taxes are going up.  He may be right.  If they're serious about stimulating the American economy, raising American taxes seems a foolish approach, but the public keeps demanding more services, and there's always a bill for services rendered.

So I got to thinking, at lunchtime, as I munched on my barbecue potato chips, about Switzerland.  They have some wonderful potato chips there, somewhat like our barbecue variety, but better—though that impression may have been due to Favorable Emotional Circumstances.  One day I made a hasty stop at the grocery store and grabbed some food for a train trip, only to discover, too late, that I had paid over $5 for a medium-sized bag of chips!

The bag I was munching from was more than half again as large, and priced at $2.50.  I actually paid half that; I generally don't by chips unless they're on sale.  It occured to me that a price tag of $7.50 would be a significant deterrent; I would probably still buy them for very special occasions, but casual purchasing would defintely be out.  Thus it would be in my best interest, health-wise, if the potato chip manufacturers decided to triple their prices.  But they wouldn't do it.  Without illegal collusion in the industry, competition would force the price back down immediately.

Unless the government stepped in.  Imagine a $5/bag tax on potato chips; applied to all, no one manufacturer could undercut the market, and suddenly Americans just might start reducing their consumption.  I only pick on potato chips because they are my own weakness, but let's not stop there:  corn chips, soda, candy, cookies, Happy Meals—all those top of the food pyramid, artificial ingredient, and preservative heavy "foods" that make up so much of our modern diet and have nutritionists and health professionals wringing their hands.

Sin taxes have their problems, I know.  The last thing I want to do is create yet another opportunity for organized crime to fluorish.  (Pssst!  Wanna buy an Oreo?) But it would be my favorite kind of tax:  likely to provide significant income for the government, yet completely avoidable simply by eating as we know we should. 

I hesitated (briefly) to post this, for fear the person concerned might, if she ever came this way, think I was making fun of her.  That's not it at all; she has, I'm sure, an important and respected job and I know she does it well.  But perspective is everything.  Having changed plenty of diapers in my day, not to mention my grandchildren's more recently, this auto-response to my e-mail struck my funny bone:

I will be out of the office beginning March 25th.  I will return to the office on April 3.  I will not have access to email or voicemail.  If your question pertains to diaper raw material, market or premarket requests, please contact K---.  If your question pertains to Wipes, please contact B---.

Somehow I think neither K--- nor B--- want to hear my diaper and wipe questions: Is it wet or dirty? Are we out of clean covers again? and Where do I put this?

As with much of my life, my genealogcial work goes in spurts; I love to get deeply into a project and run with it until the demands of life pull me, reluctantly, away—or until I get heartily sick of it and must set it aside for a while.  Genealogical research is not all success and great discovery; documentation and data entry are mostly tedious gruntwork, and mining for new data produces much more gangue than ore.  I'm now at a stage where what's needed most is organization and the above-mentioned gruntwork, so naturally I'm finding other projects more attractive.

Thus it is amusing as well as delightful to find myself showered last week with more new data than I can do justice to in a month.  Perhaps it's a case of casting one's bread upon the waters, for it began when, as part of my e-mail backlog reduction project, I organized and cleaned up my data on the descendants of Louisa Curtiss and Benjamin Wells for someone who had requested it.  (That was one of the e-mails from 2005!)  In the process I happened upon a piece of information that led to a major breakthrough in my Rice line, about which I will write later.

The very next day I heard from a cousin the amazing news that she, doing some housecleaning after my aunt's death, discovered boxes of pictures (alas, mostly unlabelled) and two exciting documents:  a professional genealogy of my Vick line created in the early 1940's, and a genealogy of my Smith ancestors done probably in the early 1890's by a family member.  The Vick information is almost totally new and pushes that line back quite a ways.  I already knew much of the direct-line Smith information, but there's much that is new on the collateral lines, some great details and family stories, and gratifying confirmation of several guesses I'd made from existing data.

Wiping the drool from my mouth I rushed over to my cousin's house to borrow the treasures, thinking I could scan the pages and the useful photos and return them in a day or two.  Ha!  I'm doing what I can to get the material back to them in a timely fashion, but I'm up to 150 scans so far and not halfway through.  This is just scanning; analyzing and entering the data will take much, much longer.

Not that I mind in the least.

I've added a new category to this blog:  Genealogy.  This won't be the first post, as I've reclassified some earliers ones to which that designation applies.  I haven't said much yet about this hobby of mine, but this may be the best way to keep family members up to date on what I'm discovering.  While you're waiting for another Christmas CD, that is.  :)

If this is the first of my genealogy posts you see, click here for a is a quick summary of why I found myself, against all odds, caught up in a hobby that is not only delightful and challenging, but also would have shocked my younger self.

The Cult of the Amateur arrived from the library yesterday, not that I've had time to crack it open yet.  But I thought about it when I read today's perspicacious post from "Et Tu?" on Mommyblogging and the water well. It may be debateable whether the amateur works of ordinary blogging folks provide a valid community for otherwise isolated people, or merely distract us from the more difficult task of creating real, physical communities, but there's no denying their significance in many of our lives.

I treasure communities of both kinds, as does the author of "Et Tu?".  One important dimension added by the Internet, I find, is the ability to interact with people who are dealing with the same issues as I am, and/or have perspectives similar to mine.  I value beyond measure my short-distance, in-the-flesh friendships, but in all the contacts we have had locally—church, school, work, music, sports, neighborhood,  Indian Princesses and even other homeschoolers—we have found, yes, good friends, but also big, aching gaps with no one to understand, discuss, struggle, and rejoice together.  A broader net was required to gather that community.

Many thanks to Liz at Smithical for directing me to "Et Tu?".  And thanks to my feedreader (Bloglines), without which I wouldn't have allowed myself to indulge in yet another interesting distraction.

I wouldn't have thought to search the pages of USA Today for Good Friday inspiration, but Google News thought otherwise and led me to this article on the decline of sin in modern times.  Not a decline of sin itself, sad to say, but of the idea of sin as a fundamental break with objective, universal, and time-independent standards.  Relativism is not new, but it is getting more pervasive, as if most people are thinking, "We'll never know for certain what's right and what's wrong; we have to make it up as we go along, and change it as circumstances change."  Which means, of course, that we have traded the tyranny of God-ordained standards for the tyrrany of mutable public opinion.  Good Friday and Easter provide a path to forgiveness for sins against God; for offenses against rules-of-the-month standards our only hope is short memories and a good public relations campaign.

Polls to the contrary, it's hard for me to believe that most people don't carry with them, however deeply buried, the knowlege that they are not living up to anyone's standards, especially not their own, and that they are in need of radical repair to be consistently or even frequently good, however they might define the term.  Perhaps what we need is not so much an understanding of sin, but encouragement to turn off the televisions, put away the iPods, get away from our omnipresent distractions and take time to consider who we are, what we think we should be, and what to do about the chasm between the two.

I’ve been a fan of the Mars Hill Audio Journal since the early 90s, though only an intermittent subscriber.  I enjoy and appreciate its insight into life and culture, but generally prefer to receive information in printed, rather than spoken, form.  Plus I was tired of finding places to store the cassettes.

Recently I re-subscribed, because they now offer an mp3 version.  This I can take with me on my walks, and it takes up no physical space in the house.  Works for me.

Mars Hill also has more free resources, audio and print, than I have time to handle.  Here’s one that came to my inbox recently:  A Culture of One, a review of a book by Andrew Keen entitled The Cult of the Amateur: How Today's Internet Is Killing Our Culture.  I’ve ordered the book from our library, but haven’t yet read it, so this post will not be commentary on the book, per se, but on some of the ideas expressed in the review, which I believe to be worthy of comment and on which I seek your opinions.

Although he doesn't use the phrase, Keen's book is about the loss of cultural authority. He believes that the survival of the very best forms of cultural expression, in journalism, music, fiction, and other disciplines, requires a network of mediation and accreditation. Cultural institutions that nurture the production of the best cultural artifacts maintain teams of editors, critics, producers, and teachers who have advanced in their careers through years of training and evaluation within a guild or tradition. Over time, some of those institutions earn more trust and respect among their peers than do others, their expertise and ability are acknowledged through an organic process of accountability and recognition. Those cultural institutions can be corrupted and standards can become debased. But without some form of institutionalized judgment established over time in communities of expertise, without, that is, some knowledgeable person to tell you your work isn't good enough to be published, cultural expression easily becomes mere self-expression.

I would respectfully cry, au contraire!  Perhaps I’m being a bit defensive here, as I am one of those who “can self-publish by putting up a few bucks for a website, [and] don't have to face the humiliation of rejection slips.”  He’s talking about blogging, but also about amateur music and other forms of cultural expression.  In this and all of life I fear the Cult of the Professional much more than the Cult of the Amateur.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m a strong proponent of excellence, and of training our children (and ourselves) to appreciate the best in music, art, literature, and life in general.  I readily admit that developing such taste usually requires deliberate effort; scattering random seeds on unprepared ground is not equivalent to planting and tending a garden.  In a world dominated by Doritos and Coke, children will not naturally prefer edamame and milk.  Similarly, much that is excellent and worthy of appreciation does not immediately captivate us, but must be assisted by experience and education.  Keen’s concern that the true ore is being buried in a flood of dross is valid, but the solution does not lie in letting a guild of professionals control access to the mines.

Professionalism is good, and professional certification is good when it provides information about minimum standards to those who otherwise would be ignorant.  When choosing a surgeon I would want him to be board certified; when purchasing raw milk I would like the dairy to have a governmental imprimatur.  However, the freedom to choose outside of official sanction is equally important; all the obstetricians in the world should not be able to stop a midwife from exercising her skills, and no state should make it illegal to buy milk from my neighbor’s uncertified farm.

We are too much overwhelmed by the professional in all of life.  We blindly trust our health to our doctors and our children’s education to their schools.  We watch; we do not do.  We watch professional sports; few of us play.  More of us watch the productions of professional actors, directors, set designers, and sound technicians, and fewer of us participate in amateur theatrical troupes.  We pay large sums to hear musical superstars perform, but who of us—besides Irish seisiún participants—gathers with friends to make joyful, informal music?  Mothers hardly sing to their babies anymore!  Professionalism has also put its mark on the amateur performances we do indulge in, and not always for the better.  Well-organized, scheduled, and rule-laden children’s sports may have their place, but they’re not a substitute for neighborhood pick-up games.

By all means, let’s encourage the development of excellence, discernment, and good taste in ourselves and our children.  (“By all means”—what an odd expression, when you think about it, because I don’t really mean “by all means”; I’m about to state an exception.)  But don’t close the door.  Above all, don’t assign as porter those in whose interest it is to keep others out of the business.

There’s a lot of junk on the Internet.  Some wicked, some dreadfully bad, some merely insipid.  And I’m not even going to talk about American Idol!  (There’s another odd expression; I just did.)  But to the extent that YouTube, blogs, amateur music publishing sites, and yes, even American Idol encourage people to become participants rather than observers, they are providing an important service.  Life is to be lived, not handed over to others and watched.

I accept the challenge from Liz; the subject intrigues me.  What things are always found in your refrigerator?   I'll skip the "normal" (milk, eggs, ketchup) and list ten items that are nearly always in stock but might make our refrigerator unique, at least in combination.

1. Dairy kefir, flavored and plain.  The flavored variety is delicious to drink and both are great on cereal.  Unflavored, it's the closest I've been able to find to the European-style yoghurt we enjoyed on our muesli in Switzerland.  Like drinkable yoghurt, but with a variety of health-supporting probiotic cultures.


2. Blenheim Old #3 (red cap) Ginger Ale.  We were introduced to this treasure by Porter's parents, who lived in South Carolina.  We stock up at South of the Border when our travels take us that way, and keep a bottle or two in the fridge to challenge cocky teenaged boys and for making the great Lime Daley drink.


3. Boyajian citrus oils.  We learned about these when we lived just down the street from the Boyajian store.  Now I have to order online, but it's worth it.  Pure oils (not extracts) from lemon, lime, orange, and tangerine fruits.  There's a small bottle of grapefruit in my refrigerator, but they don't sell that anymore.  :(  Absolutely wonderful for adding citrus flavor to almost anything:  orange chicken, lemon pie, hot cocoa, and our family favorite drinks, Bay Punch and the above-mentioned Lime Daleys.


4. Soy sauce, Kikkoman  low sodium.  Essential to many of our favorite dishes.


5. Japanese mayonnaise (Kewpie).  Essential for okonomiyaki and extra special anywhere else you would use mayonnaise.


6. Sal's Sassy Sauce.  From our days in Rochester, New York. Rochester wings beat Buffalo wings any day, and Sal's sauce makes Rochester wings.  (Smitty's fans would argue.)  The secret ingredient in our macaroni salad.


7. Cherchie's Champagne Mustard. This delight is from my home town, though I didn't know about it till a friend gave us our first jar.  Great on ham sandwiches; it goes especially well with Swiss cheese.  The hands-down best condiment for our traditional Christmastime Hickory Farms Beef Stick.


8. Green Thai curry paste.  Can't make The Frog Commissary Cookbook's Siamese Chicken Curry with Broccoli and Peanuts without it.  One of my dad's enduring gifts to his children (and grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren) was a love of that and other Frog dishes.


9. Real maple syrup.  No Aunt Jemima in this household.  Preferably Grade B. 

Thanks, Liz, that was amusing to think about. Anyone else care to chime in? There's nothing magic about the number nine—that's just what I was able to think of without working too hard.

Dana Summers is one of my favorite cartoonists, partly because I like his cartoons and partly because he's a local boy.  Not a native, but few of us Floridians are.  He creates editorial cartoons, produces the strip The Middletons with Ralph Dunagin (also a Central Floridian and editorial cartoonist), and—the inspiration for this post—is the creator of the Bound & Gagged.  So, for Heather, who is tandem nursing and currently expecting...

Eternal Vigilance Is the Price of Liberty

Whether you attribute that quotation to Wendell Phillips, Thomas Jefferson, or Patrick Henry, it's the truth, and no less true when it comes to the rights of parents to educate their own children.

When we first considered educating our children at home, that right was in legal limbo here in Florida, not being mentioned in the statutes at all. Some homeschoolers stayed under the government's radar by never registering their children for school in the first place (and staying out of sight during school hours), and others registered their homes as private schools, but I believe the most common choice was to homeschool under the "umbrella" of an existing private school. Some private schools were set up specifically for homeschoolers to be able to choose that option. It worked reasonably well, and thus some homeschoolers were reluctant to rock the boat when others pushed to make home education specifically legal. They were—quite reasonably—afraid that bringing the issue to the attention of lawmakers might result in less freedom rather than more. It's a legitimate fear, but recent events in California show the danger of not making rights and freedoms explicit.

A California appellate court ruling in the case of one specific family has thrown into confusion the legal status of homeschoolers in the whole state. The homeschooling family came to the attention of the authorities when the oldest child made accusations of child abuse. Whether these accusations were valid or a rebellious teen's reaction to resonable and legitimate family restrictions and discipline is not the point here—I only mention it because there's a general assumption that the parents were guilty, and I know personally that the alternate scenario is sometimes the truth. The matter of immediate concern to other homeschoolers is that the court made a general ruling on the legitimacy of homeschooling, and "published" it, making it available as legal precedent for other court cases. The judges ruled that parents do not have a right to educate their own children unless they hold valid state teaching certification at the appropriate grade level.

Several things are frightening about this, not the least of which is that the issue didn't even come to light until several days after the court decision had been made. The battle was lost before it was joined.

California homeschoolers are trying not to panic. The host that has arisen in their support includes Governor Arnold Schwartzenegger and the state superintendent of education, Jack O’Connell, as well as the Home School Legal Defense Association (HSLDA). Predictably, however, opponents are taking advantage of the opportunity as well. Los Angeles teachers' union president A.J. Duffy: What's best for a child is to be taught by a credentialed teacher. Los Angeles Daily News columnist Paul Kujawsky: [W]hat could work would be a regulatory scheme in which the California Department of Education creates standards for initial training and continuing supervision of home-schooling parents. This training and supervision could be carried out by organizations of credentialed teachers under contract with the department. Such a solution may not satisfy everyone, but it would preserve home schools while ensuring that their students are getting the sort of education California law requires. Note that Kujawsky's "solution" says nothing about how well children are actually learning and puts parents under direct control of the state and the teachers' union. (See Kujawksy's whole column here.)

If this doesn't scare you, read this column by Steven Greenhut of the Orange County (California) Register. Here are few excerpts (emphasis mine).

The judges—two Republican appointees and one Democratic appointee—argued that "parents do not have a constitutional right to home-school their children. … Because parents have a legal duty to see to their children's schooling within the provisions of these laws, parents who fail to do so may be subject to a criminal complaint against them, found guilty of an infraction and subject to imposition of fines or an order to complete a parent education and counseling program." The court made it clear that parents face a loss of custody if they don't comply, arguing that "the juvenile court has authority to limit a parent's control over a dependent child.

The ruling is shockingly totalitarian, as it echoes this point: "In obedience to the constitutional mandate to bring about a general diffusion of knowledge and intelligence, the Legislature, over the years, enacted a series of laws. A primary purpose of the educational system is to train school children in good citizenship, patriotism and loyalty to the state and the nation as a means of protecting the public welfare."

Is this California or Germany? I haven't written about the homeschooling horrors in Germany since the Melissa Busekros case (see here, here, and here), but the situation is so bad people are fleeing the country rather than turn their children over to the state. Homeschooling has become a significant movement in the United States, and most families who now teach their children at home have no memories of the battles that won them that freedom. They may have to repeat them.

I have had my quarrels with the HSLDA in the past, but nonetheless we chose to support them (and join them) while we were actively homeschooling, and I would do so again. As far as I can tell, they are the best and most effective organization around for monitoring the legal assaults on homeschooling, both here and abroad, and as they have matured they seem to have become more calm and less likely to panic unnecessarily (one of my objections in the past). One HSLDA opponent complained that the organization should have quietly gone away after home education was legalized in all states, instead of continuing to grow. Much as I respect that person, one California court decision was all it took to prove him wrong.

I'm not sure of the value of petitions, especially the electronic variety, and though I've signed some physical petitions, I'd never signed one online. Until now. The HSLDA website has a petition requesting that the California Supreme Court "depublish" this case, which would mean it could not be sited as legal precedent. Normally I would not expect petitioners to matter if they are not California citizens, but the HSLDA would like to show broad national support as well, so I signed.

On the other side of the continent, Washington, DC is now considering instituting Draconian restrictions for its homeschoolers. According to this Washington Times column by J. Michael Smith, president of the HSLDA, The regulations cover everything from record keeping and home visits to the power of government officials to immediately terminate a homeschool program at their discretion.

Here's an interesting map, taken from this San Jose, California Mercury News article.

Note that both California and Washington, DC were considered to be "low regulation." Connecticut is a great place to live if you want to homeschool, almost an island in the midst of its heavy-handed neighbors. North Dakota, on the other hand, stands out in the other direction.

Many people choose where to live based on the quality of the public schools. Homeschoolers are liberated from that concern, but would do well to consider the homeschooling regulations to which they would be subjecting themselves. Even so, nothing can be taken for granted. To continue the Wendell Phillips quote, Only by continual oversight can the democrat in office be prevented from hardening into a despot. That's a lower case "d" democrat—Republicans are not exempt.

Our spam filter usually works really, really well, but the stupid spammers are getting more and more clever, and there were two when I awoke this morning.  I deleted them, but those of you who use feedreaders will no doubt see them.  In case you were wondering, my posts were shanghaied—the spam came from Shanghai, China.  (Thanks, Feedjit!)

More disturbing, however, was that in the process of deleting them I discovered two legitimate comments that had been marked as spam.  I fixed that, but one was in made January and the other in February, so they don't show up in the Recent Comments list.  My apologies to Peter V and Stephan; click on their names to see the posts and their comments.

Last year when we went to Switzerland we tried several new Swiss dishes, but somehow missed raclette.  To make up for it, this trip we ate raclette four times, and lest you think we tired of it, we were inspired to purchase our own raclette set.

I call it our Swiss souvenir, though in point of fact I bought it from Amazon.com, in order to get one that didn't need a power and plug converter, and to save carrying it home.  Although this is a Swiss appliance (manufactured, alas, in China), it appears to have been super-sized for the American market:  the little pans are perhaps twice the size I was expecting.

Friday night we had our first raclette party, and though there are some modifications I would make next time, it went well.  I found raclette cheese at Whole Foods, but it was French raclette cheese, which may explain why it was softer and not quite as flavorful as that which we ate in Switzerland.  No matter; we spiced it up with the raclette spice and seasoned sea salt that did make the journey from Basel to Florida in my suitcase.

The cool thing about raclette is that, like fondue, it is a community cooking experience.  There's a bit of preparation involved, but the actual cooking is done by the guests as you all converse companionably around the dinner table.  Each person places a slice of cheese in his little pan and sets it under the grill to heat.  When the cheese is melted and bubbly, he  scrapes it out onto small, boiled potatoes (okay, so that part of the cooking is done in advance), seasons the mixture, and then digs in.  Accompaniments are traditionally pickled onions and cornichons.  (We substituted baby dills for the latter.)  One of our Swiss hosts cooked bulgoki on the top part of the grill, which was delicious.  I wasn't that ambitious, but did use the top of the grill to cook marinated green beans and mushrooms.

Dessert, of course, was Swiss chocolate.

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, by Barbara Kingsolver,  Steven L. Hopp, and Camille Kingsolver (HarperCollins, 2007)

When we were visiting Janet, a friend of hers was reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.  The friend wasn’t totally happy with it, but it sounded intriguing enough that I borrowed it from the library when we returned.

I’m not totally happy with it either.  Kingsolver apparently doesn't know much about capitalism and corporations other than the standard leftist line, so every time she ventures into politics she becomes more annoying than enlightening.  She also seems to have a vendetta against anyone who doesn't believe in evolution (she has a master’s degree in evolutionary biology, which may explain a lot) and can't resist making totally unnecessary snide comments in which she reveals how little she really knows about most people who don’t accept the entire package of evolutionary theory.  She likes to point to microevolutionary changes and say, in effect, "See, take that! You ignorant creationists!" when in fact that is not a part of the theory creationists generally have a problem with.  She also misquotes the Bible at one point, which ought to have been caught by a proofreader, but that merely rankles; it doesn’t affect any of her arguments.

Be that as it may, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is well worth reading.  As a writer, Barbara Kingsolver combines a poet’s ear for language with an entertainer’s sense of presentation.  Even if I had found the subject dull, I believe I would have enjoyed reading this book.

The subject is by no means dull.  Kingsolver, her husband, and her two daughters decided to move to rural Virginia and dedicate a year to eating only what they grew themselves or that was grown nearby (with a very few exceptions, such as coffee and some spices).  In the process of following the family’s adventures, the reader learns too much for comfort about the sad state of eating in this most food-wealthy of nations.

For quite a while now I’ve been becoming increasingly uncomfortable with our “factory farming” methods of producing food, but my concerns were generally limited to two:  Cruelty to the animals and the associated pollution of their meat and milk with stress hormones, not to mention antibiotics and other unwanted chemicals; and the loss of flavor in our food.

These are certainly important issues, but there are many, many more.  I’ll mention here only one, perhaps the most frightening, though the book doesn’t give it as much prominence as I think it deserves:  Our food supply is no longer self-sustainable.  Plants and animals have for years been bred for many characteristics, but those which encourage reproduction, by seed or by sex, are not among them.  Those who sell seeds have little interest in plants that will allow the farmer to save seeds from his current crop rather than purchasing new seeds for the next year.  Characteristics that make animals successful reproducers are not generally compatible with the technique of keeping animals in close confinement, and besides, artificial insemination is more reliable and predictable, so that’s the way our agricultural animals are reproduced.  I find the idea of a food supply that can’t last beyond the current generation without artificial intervention to be very, very scary.  Closely related is the way we have bred variety out of our food plants and animals.  Ninety-nine percent of the turkeys we eat, for example, are of a single breed, the Broad-Breasted White.  All I can think of when I hear numbers like that is the Irish Potato Famine.  We may end up owing our lives to heritage and heirloom plant and animal breeders like our friend at the Claude Moore Colonial Farm.

This family’s year-long experiment could be considered a time of deprivation, but it was a time of abundance and joy.  They would be the first to say it would not have been so joyful had they been trying to earn their living as farmers.  With their living secured by outside employment, their farm work, onerous and time-consuming as it was, was more in the nature of a hobby—albeit one that bore primary responsibility for putting food on the table—than a job.  They only had to feed themselves, not figure out how to sell food to others.  The work of raising, harvesting, and preserving their plant and animal crops was hard, but also worthwhile, meditative, and restorative.

I don’t believe the author would recommend their course for everyone, but she rightfully and strongly believes everyone should know a lot more than we do about where our food comes from, how it grows, and how it gets to us.  Most of us could benefit from planting small gardens of our own, be it only a window box-full.  Buying whatever we can from local farmers’ markets would improve our eating while supporting small farmers, and some of us might even consider encouraging our political leaders to transfer some of the government’s farm subsidies from mega-conglomerates to small-scale farms and individual farmers, as an investment in a more sustainable (not to mention flavorful) future.