Having just finished planting my sugar peas, I stepped back and mulled over topics for this weekend’s farm note. The peas are planted in a small bed in front of the potting shed, a sheltered area I’m hoping will stay cool enough to still yield a crop for the table in late May or early June. Fresh from plunging my hands in the dirt, I thought, perhaps I’ll write about the sense of touch?
Then I recalled a conversation with a friend this past week: “We know where to go when everything falls apart,” he said. I laughed for a couple of reasons. First, a recent blog I’d read had touched on that very comment. Second, if every friend or family member acted on that impulse, our small farm would quickly become overpopulated and over-used.
Now, people partly say that to express appreciation for the hard work we put into maintaining our farm. Perhaps, too, they say it to acknowledge the vague doubt that the system of global growth can continue forever. It is perhaps hardwired in our DNA to expect bad things to happen—a poor crop, a midnight raid on the village, the Black Death, a new religion and its accompanying war.
I’m not able to see into the future. But it is reasonable, based on human history, to expect periodic boom and bust cycles. And, I’m of the camp that believes that our increased ability to strip-mine the environment has led to a host of problems that may very well take the gloss off our shiny gadgets.
But here is some advice to everyone who wants to “bug out” to their friends’ or family’s farm in the event of the next depression, pandemic, or climatic catastrophe. Get to know your neighbors, wherever you live. Make that the start of your new community. Remember, community begins at home. Then learn to grow some food. Building community and producing your own food will do more to bring you security than hightailing it to the hinterlands.
By all means put some food aside for emergencies. But know this: it might be better to plant a few peas in that unused area by the garage, kale along the driveway, or potatoes over the dog’s grave.
You might find, as my cousin in Beaumont, Texas, has discovered, that you don’t need seventy acres of land to have a good amount of food security. In his small backyard he grows enough produce for his family, with plenty to spare for the weekly farmer’s market. And he has earned a place in the community from taking an active part in his town and church for many years.
So grow something and give it to the neighbors you just met. Those acts of growing and becoming part of your community are better security than any bug-out plan you might dream up.
Besides, our farm really doesn’t have room for all of you.
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Reading this weekend: The Mammoth Book of Best British Mysteries, because sometimes you just need a break.
Brian sez: I’m of the camp that believes that our increased ability to strip-mine the environment has led to a host of problems that may very well take the gloss off our shiny gadgets.
That’s quite the judicious statement from my perspective. I don’t expect zombie hordes, but something close: a major diaspora from cities that I’ve cheekily called “repatriation” — before 1900 more than 90% of the American people lived in rural agrarian settings and had associated skill sets. You’re right at least that many won’t be accommodated as they arrive bearing little more than their own hunger.
Ha! No doubt it was a bit of a soft pedal. I certainly think that in the event of a severe economic dislocation, accelerated peak oil crisis or climate induced famine the last place one would want to be would be in a major city. And that includes Chicago.
With that said I find that far too many people put off learning or practicing basic social skills. The kind of skills needed in a smaller rural/town economy. These types often indulge in grim fantasies about survivalism. The reality is that they are going to need to interact with others in a constructive fashion. That rural skill set you refer to encompasses more than just learning to grow food. It involves a host of civil practices that we have grown rusty at using during this consumerist/industrial binge of late.
I could advocate until the cows come home. But I don’t really hold out too much hope that anyone would listen or respond. The blog for me is an exercise in documenting our farm life, observations that are brought to life by that work, my active reading habits and my overactive imagination.
As always, thanks for the insightful comments. I always get a kick out of receiving them.
Cheers,
Brian
I, too, find myself reiterating what my blog is for and its inherent limitations. We toss comments back and forth, but I don’t think I have nearly so much to teach to as to learn from a fellow like you. I note, however, that urban social skills these days are like a one-player tennis match, so even those of us who cultivate such skills frequently find ourselves alone on court.
Brian, You may have misunderstood some of us. If we get to feeling down because everything seems to be falling apart, we can think of you and Cindy on the farm, as with most farms, where you have to fight like hell from day to day to just to keep everything from falling apart. Hence, we know where to go.
Heck. I was thinking this weekend, as we enjoyed some of Arlene’s homemade Kahlua, where we would go if things fell apart. So as long as you show up with a supply, you are welcome to stay.
It may help others to know that small scale will always produce more than large scale due to inefficiencies in scale. This ultimately comes down to attention and energy per square foot.
On the same note, people are creating facebook groups for their streets and neighborhoods where they can go back to the “olden” days of can I borrow a cup of sugar? Social networking, while potentially “evil”, is just like all other technology and can be quite beneficial when the right context is applied.
Great post to nudge others into action!
J.D.
Thanks for the comment. I do disagree in part about the comment “that some technology can be quite beneficial.” It is not social media that brings people together. It is people that bring people together. It is important to keep that in perspective. Attributing that power of interaction to a technology disturbs me and perhaps may be the root of many of our modern ills. The problem with technology in general is that its uses and impacts are never explored before implementation.
I’ll look forward to seeing you face-to-face Saturday and hearing your presentation while in the same room.
Cheers,
Brian