LAKE MACBRIDE— When I returned to my computer after breakfast yesterday it crashed, disrupting the balance of the day.
It was a good, not great breakfast, and a familiar, but unwanted technical glitch in a life on the prairie.
Breakfast was in four layers: a mixture of cooked summer squash, onions, garlic scapes, salt and pepper on the bottom. Next, kale cooked after deglazing the pan with the juice of a lime, followed by scrambled eggs, and topped with grated cheddar cheese and chopped Italian parsley. It wasn’t my best work, but it served. I write about breakfast to avoid thinking about the work ahead today.
Luckily, I backed up in the early morning of July 8, my email resides in the cloud, and my photos and sound recordings are on my devices. There is about one week’s work on documents and spreadsheets that will have to be reconstructed. It could be worse.
After a shift at the warehouse, I stopped at our local technology store and sent the laptop off to be serviced. The prognosis is not good, with talk about the motherboard. I turned from the counter, walked over a few rows, and bought a new desktop CPU for $370.
Laptops seem to last about two years, and each of the last three of them was convenient to have, but crashed at an inconvenient time. Since 2012, when we got smartphones, having a laptop no longer seems necessary as I can check email and news stories on the go without one.
Like it or not, today will be struggling to get paying work done on the computer, and re-engineering this technology dependent life on the Iowa prairie. Having been through this twice previously, I know, but hate the drill.
RURAL CEDAR TOWNSHIP— This week’s work at the CSA was helping with the garlic harvest. Now is the time to get it out of the field, even as a few garlic scapes linger in the ice box.
It was all hands on deck yesterday, and I did my share— in some cases picking the garlic I remember planting last fall. The crew size varied during my shift with as many as 16 workers at a time busy digging, cleaning, racking and carrying. It has now been a complete year since we had to buy garlic for our household.
Fresh Garlic
The work was not demanding, but at the end of the day, my hands were cramping uncontrollably for a while. The trouble dissipated with deep sleep, and today I feel as normal as a 60 something ever does.
It felt good to be a part of this year’s garlic harvest.
The weekly planning session from waking until 6 a.m. is critical for generating enough income to pay bills. At the same time, it enables dispersion of mental troubles— the same way night vapors become dew, and are burned off by sunlight. It would be an insane world without a plan.
That said, even the best planning fails to accommodate everything we need and want to do. Wants give way to needs, and only those needs critical to social and economic survival get a time slot on the Google calendar. While a popular belief is that we have leisure time and hobbies, in the work-a-day world of low wage labor, such things are best left to what Thorstein Veblen called the “leisure class.”
After breakfast of a three-egg omelet of local farm eggs and sharp cheddar cheese imported from England, a glass of Florida orange juice, and black coffee, it’s time to get after the week’s work.
LAKE MACBRIDE— Rain was brewing when I went outside early this morning. One could sense it in the warm, electrified air. It came and poured two inches in the garden cart left outside to get washed out. The storm winked the power a couple of times, although not long enough to stop my work on a newspaper article. In all, it was a decent, if unneeded rain.
Temperatures in June averaged 70.3° or 0.6°above normal, while precipitation totaled 9.94 inches or 4.92 inches above normal, according to state climatologist Harry Hillaker. This ranks as the 55th warmest and third wettest June among 141 years of records. The only calendar months with greater statewide precipitation averages were July 1993 (10.50”), June 2010 (10.39) and June 1947 (10.33). The rainfall isn’t done for today.
I’m taking a break between two news articles due this weekend. Cleansing the writer’s palate with new words in a different frame. The first story is filed, and the second will be before going to the orchard to confirm my work during the apple season that starts today.
It is an unusual Saturday off from the warehouse. I cancelled outdoor work because of the forecast for more rain, so besides at-home work on the newspaper and two other gigs, the day is mine. My spouse is working this afternoon, so I’ll have the house to myself much of the day.
Yesterday I was invited to luncheon at the CSA. As a part time worker, I get included in special events and attend when my schedule permits. Eleven farm workers dined on pizza, coleslaw, steamed broccoli, zucchini cake and watermelon. Only a few ingredients came from off the farm. I opined that the watermelon was from Florida, but was guessing.
The pizza dough was turned red by adding beet puree. Topped with a tomato sauce, mozzarella cheese, sliced beets, onions, sliced hard-cooked eggs and basil, not only was it delicious, it was beautiful. The rest of the meal was standard, in-season local food fare, simply prepared.
I am working on a piece about Alice Waters and asked each farm worker individually if they knew who she was. Six of eleven (55 percent) did not recognize the name. On a farm where the major effort is organic, locally grown ingredients, and using them to create a specific type of cuisine, I was surprised more people had not heard of her. Waters is not as well known as some foodies might think.
A discussion of breaking vegetarianism led us down a weird conversational path. Someone said so many vegans and vegetarians break their eating habits with bacon. Most everyone at the table had some type of hog slaughtering experience, so for about 20 minutes that became our conversation.
When people live close to the means of production, the conversation seems reasonable. We covered home slaughtering of a market animal that died unexpectedly the day before shipping, working in a slaughter house, visits to confinement hog operations, a story about consumption of male hog gonads, chitterlings, lard rendering, using bacon grease in cooking, and many more topics. A porcine version of Moby Dick, if you will, told by people who know their subject.
I’m willing to bet fewer people would eat bacon if they knew where it came from.
Yesterday I transplanted celery and snipped off the leaves from the extra seedlings. It was the best tasting celery ever. We’ll see how much it produces. This morning’s rain should help.
LAKE MACBRIDE— From a crack in the pavement, a thistle bloomed next to milkweed. The natural world lives in the increasingly human-made environment in which we attempt to adapt— plants, animals and people alike.
The weather report for the weekend is the return of the polar vortex, bringing rain and cool temperatures. Sun and warmth are the best help for gardens and farms, so the weekend will be a likely setback.
At the intersection of the industrial food supply chain and local cuisine I found a package of uncooked tortillas. Claiming to be “all natural,” the ingredients are recognizable— flour, water, oil, salt and sugar. The machine rolls them out thinner than I have been able to, and they cook quickly in a dry frying pan. A pack of 50 sold for $6.89, or about 14 cents each. They will be a welcome addition to the pantry for burritos, tacos, tortilla chips, quesadillas and casseroles as what I had been buying has ingredients not found in nature.
Thistle Flower
I’m busy all of the time these days, mostly with work. On a typical day, I work at three or four jobs, leaving little time for extra-curricular activities.
From time to time, it was possible to stand at the intersection of change for a while and smell the flowers. For that, I am grateful.
I am also grateful that after calculating my income for the year, it appears my federal taxes will fall in line, and that I sent enough, but not too much money into the Internal Revenue Service.
LAKE MACBRIDE– It was so nice yesterday. I went for a walk in the state park and saw a Monarch butterfly on Milkweed.
Actually, the last couple of days have been a walking tour of my busy life, settling down from the caesura that is mid-year. A rest was not in the plans, but that’s what I got after the holiday weekend. Now I am invigorated. There is a lot to do.
SOLON— Can a community of about 2,000 people support two Mexican Restaurants? The founders of El Sol Mexican Cuisine believe it can.
Diego Rivera (no kin to the artist) is the former owner of El Sol and a related restaurant in Mount Vernon. With his former manager, Joel Vazquez, they hope to succeed with a new venture, Frida Kahlo Mexican Restaurant and Lucy’s Bakery, in a strip mall at the edge of town.
Corner of El Sol
Frida Kahlo de Rivera, namesake of the new restaurant, was a Mexican painter, perhaps best known for her self-portraits.
“Her work has been celebrated in Mexico as emblematic of national and indigenous tradition, and by feminists for its uncompromising depiction of the female experience and form,” according to her website.
Kahlo has been described as “one of history’s grand divas… a tequila-slamming, dirty joke-telling smoker, bi-sexual that hobbled about her bohemian barrio in lavish indigenous dress and threw festive dinner parties for the likes of Leon Trotsky, poet Pablo Neruda, Nelson Rockefeller, and her on-again, off-again husband, muralist Diego Rivera.”
Too controversial a symbol for a small town? Time will tell, but most local people don’t dig that deeply.
The issue may be that the space for the new restaurant is a graveyard to a succession of culinary failures, most recently The Dock Fine Dining. The new venture will test the viability of the strip mall space, however, Nomi’s Asian Restaurant and Subway have been successful a few doors down, and this pair of entrepreneurs has been successful in town with their first Mexican restaurant.
Rivera recently returned from a trip to a culinary school in Mexico where he learned about pre-Hispanic cuisine.
“When the Spanish arrived in Mexico, the Aztecs had sophisticated agricultural techniques and an abundance of food, which was the base of their economy. It allowed them to expand an empire, bringing in tribute which consisted mostly of foods the Aztecs could not grow themselves. According to Bernardino de Sahagún, the Nahua peoples of central Mexico ate corn, beans, turkey, fish, small game, insects and a wide variety of fruits, vegetables, pulses, seeds, tubers, wild mushrooms, plants and herbs that they collected or cultivated,” according to Wikipedia.
One hopes for authentic dishes that are reflective of more than standard Mexican restaurant fare. Having witnessed the development of this pair of restauranteurs, Frida Kahlo Mexican Restaurant and Lucy’s Bakery looks promising.
Main Street in SolonDeteriorating Building FrontSoutheast Corner of Main at MarketSouthwest Corner of Main at MarketMichigan CherriesPasta SaucePasta and Cherries
LAKE MACBRIDE— The Fourth of July was as perfect a day of weather as we get. Mostly clear skies, moderate temperatures, and low humidity. I opened the garage, turned on a fan to evaporate standing water left by the rain, and spent an inordinate amount of time mowing, then re-mowing to collect grass clippings for the garden. I trimmed the edges until the batteries wore down.
At the end of the day, the garage was straightened out and my car parked inside for the first time in a couple of months. Our lawn of mixed grass and prairie plants looked as good as it gets when it was done. Summer has turned.
With the closely cropped grass, hiding places for rabbits are gone and they were lurking around near the celery seedlings. I moved the seedlings inside for the night, and hopefully the rabbits will find something other than my garden to eat now that the clover is mowed and decomposing on a garden plot.
Some of the tomato plants are four feet high and there is an abundance of flowers. The prospects for a crop are good. Canning jars are at the ready.
I hung my old American flag from the garage door frame. It is getting faded after more than 35 years of service. A new one that flew over the U.S. Capitol is available, but I don’t want to re-drill the holes in the frame to accommodate it’s larger dimensions. Like me, the old flag will serve.
What’s next?
It’s time to break out a copy of The Great Gatsby and read it again now that summer has turned. Then what?
Fresh basil is in from the farm, putting a tomato-based pasta sauce in the kitchen queue. To be made with basil, garlic scapes, farm onions and whole canned tomatoes from last year. A little salt, and maybe some fresh oregano from our garden. Add a side salad, and there is dinner— for one night, and maybe leftovers for tomorrow.
But this is not really a plan. It is living in the present, which for now will have to do.
LAKE MACBRIDE— Five years ago today I drove out of the parking lot of CRST International in Cedar Rapids from a long career of transportation work into the unknown. There is no going back, nor would I. There is only forward.
Today, we have friends and family, food to eat, a home in which to live, and other accoutrements of modern life. We are doing okay. Compared to many, we are doing great. If the U.S. is not the greatest country on Earth, it is one of the greatest, at least according to a poll released today. That’s okay too.
Tomorrow the clevis and cotter pins bought at the hardware store will be installed on the grass collection attachment to the tractor. I will cut the full lawn to length for the first time this year. The garden is way behind, so I will abandon what isn’t planted and prepare the ground for the second growth of green beans, even though the first planting didn’t occur because things were so far behind.
Tomorrow will also be a culling of activities according to the Sumitomo model. Some of the barter work is nearing its end, some of it needs to go to make room for paid work. Contacts will be made about that.
Mostly, tomorrow will be a brief chance to examine who I am through tired eyes, and wonder at how we have survived in a turbulent world.
Then next steps, which will involve a chain saw and work in a pasture in sunlight.
Journey Home 
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