Local Food is Radical

On a daily basis, we are bombarded by a myriad of messages, all carefully crafted and coordinated by our corporate overlords. In case you haven’t been paying attention, we don’t live in a democracy, a democratic republic, or whatever else we were brainwashed into believing our American government was supposed to be during our 12 years of indoctrination in public schools. And then, of course, we’re convinced to add another four, six, or eight years on top of that, just for the privilege of tacking a few letters after our names for the purpose of “prestige.” And at what cost does this so-called honor come?

It’s too easy to succumb to this onslaught and get caught up in all the finger-pointing and ideological blame-gaming—it’s so much easier to control and subjugate a people divided. But this isn’t intended to be a screed, a diatribe, or even a jeremiad. No, I’m here to talk about simplicity in its most basic form—local food. Continue reading

Back from Collapse

It felt good to run this morning. Yes, it was cold and I didn’t wear gloves. The cold, crisp October air, rushing into my lungs reminded me again that the road back from my accident in August has been slower than I anticipated. That’s when I tumbled off my bike and all the training that commenced back in January got put on hold.

I didn’t think it would take nearly three months to get back to where I was before I cracked a rib and punctured my lung on August 5th. It’s been a slow, uphill climb, but I’m really close to being able to do everything that I had been doing prior to crashing my bike that Monday night after work. Continue reading

Framing things

Building things is not something I’m a natural at. It’s not an intuitive trait or ability of mine. On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say I’m probably a three. I might be a bit harsh, but I’m certainly not a 6 or 7.

When I tackle a project, it always seems to take me longer than I planned; or longer than the length of time that a skilled craftsman would accomplish the task in. Continue reading

Getting our stack on

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My grandfather never went to the gym in his life. When he’d see some high school age runner passing his house, training for their upcoming sport season, or maybe just out for a fitness run, he’d say, “they don’t have enough work to do.” For my grandfather, work never had an off-season.

Despite Opa’s views on work and sports, my uncles all played sports and several of them, including my Uncle Bob, were quite gifted. My Uncle Rhinie played for the vaunted semi-pro Worumbo Indians and in the Army, he was talented enough to play at a level where he caught Rex Barney and was a teammate of former National League batting champ, Harry Walker during WWII.

Wood and the cutting, splitting, and burning of it has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I spent time in the woods working alongside my Opa, my father, and my uncle, beginning at a very young age. Continue reading