Dad, on his 90th.
I’ll be off the farm for a few days, heading down to the homeland to help celebrate my father’s 91st (and, eat a fair amount of crawfish). So, I leave you with one from the archives that gets to the heart of what I hope this blog project conveys.
It was late afternoon when I stopped at a friend’s farm. An invitation to sample three new homebrews and some freshly sliced prosciutto from a 2-year-old ham had been issued. The short drive found me passing dozens of small homes and farms. None of them could be called financially “going concerns.” Most had vegetable gardens and chickens; some had fighting cocks staked to huts; many had a steer or two in a small pasture and a few pigs in sties near the barn; one had a gutted buck draped from a pickup truck. These are features of our landscape. It’s a traditional landscape of those getting by, doing for themselves. Not quite the “self-sufficing” farms of old, but closer than most in this modern world.
Cashless networks create challenges within a capitalist economy. Communities operating outside the prevailing system must always be brought inside, to the sheltering embrace of improvement, progress, and markets. A people not in search of “the civilizing influence of a cash economy” will be given it anyway. And once it’s presented, they’ll often surrender to it, for after all, the sirens’ call of cheaper, plentiful goods is hard to ignore when there is money to spend.In the 1930 census, one-third of “self-sufficing” farms were located in Appalachia, accounting for the majority of farms in the region. These farms generated less than $100 a year, produced more than 50 percent of their needs on the land, and bartered and traded for the rest in an essentially cashless network. In a system hallowed by custom, kinship, shared work, and shared deprivation, these hill people still led a life rich in music, folkways, food, and craft.
The 1930s were really the midpoint in a long, complicated pursuit of bringing “progress” and wages to the mountain people. That pursuit ultimately resulted in the destruction of those self-sufficing farms, the cashless society and culture, and what remained was a shell, a dependent people, and the faintest ghostly echo of that world today.
Perhaps it is a romantic streak, but I see ghosts. Ghosts of what we have lost in our drive for progress and shiny baubles. One North Carolina woman, at the brink of the Civil War, anticipated the loss to come in that conflict: “How quietly we drift out into such an awful night, into the darkness, the lowering clouds, the howling winds, and the ghostly light of our former glory going with us to make the gloom visible with its pale glare.”
A friend of mine works with non-profits and universities establishing links between the peoples of Appalachia and the Maramures region of Romania. ‘Twas a link I thought a stretch until he sent me William Blacker’s chronicle Along the Enchanted Way. It is a haunting work, beautifully written, of a land isolated and untouched yet by the capitalist economy and unaffected by the communist government just fallen—a land like ours once was, of custom, barter, and kinship, of self-sufficing farms.
During the years Blacker lived among the Romanians, just after the fall of the Soviet Union, he witnessed the impact of cash and commercial goods on that society. How quickly a rural, traditional society unravels, one outside paycheck or charity at a time, leaving a pale glare to light the path behind.
We find it hard to step outside our immediate desires and see the long-term consequences. We bemoan the loss of kith and kin, praise the handmade, the local, yet undermine all by our gluttonous drive for new markets and consumption. Left behind is the debris of formerly stable societies, slathered now with the cheap, sugary pink frosting of hope and mountains of discarded plastic toys.
On our farm, we don’t lead a self-sufficing life. We try. But even with our table loaded each night with food sourced from just outside our door, with a pantry full of jars of preserves, pickles, and canned produce from the garden, with bacon, jowls, and hams under the stairs, we conjure only a pale outline of what was or could be. We try to barter and repair the literal and figurative fences in our community. But, we fail. Those links to a self-sufficing life are now severed. We are too plugged into this economy, too enamored to envision a way out.
The problem is not just our fossil-fueled lifestyle, our globally connected train of goods and services, or our commodification of all physical aspects of our modern existence. It is our mindset. We discard with ignorance and shortsightedness and embrace the new without question.
Perhaps we mistake the lowering clouds as security and the howling winds as the sound of contented voices. Yet … if the pale light guiding my path leads me to three homebrewed beers and some home-cured prosciutto, then I’ll gladly trudge on.
Wish Dad our best on his birthday. Have a crawfish for me. Pester a couple siblings – just because. Home brews and prosciutto on the home front, and family back home. Things cash won’t buy, and ghosts can only attempt to haunt. Faith, hope, and love… add home and be satisfied. Be a simple man.
No chance, every time I try and simplify, I “simply” end up with more on my To-Do-List.
Sometimes I think we all really need to stop buying STUFF!! Stop feeding the capitalist beast. I know how difficult it is, but not having very much money helps a lot!! I’m 64 years old and feel very lucky to have been raised by people who can DO THINGS, and felt it was necessary to know how to do things. Farm type things, and even such things as knitting, sewing, spinning, weaving, baking bread, growing things, etc., etc., etc. I look around now and see so many people who really can’t do much of anything. I shudder and am scared for them when I think of the hard times that are coming.
Heather, your comment reminded me of a picture I saw once… which can be seen here:
http://landlinemedia.blogspot.com/2015/06/dont-like-trucks-stop-buying-stuff-and.html
They tweaked the sign… but the message is still relevant.
If you have the ol LP of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s first album you’ll find a great tune at the end of side 1… … be someone you can love trust and understand…
Thanks, I enjoyed the blog post and totally agree with his sign–I was going to use the s word, too, but figured this is a family blog!! Don’t own that LP of Skynyrd’s, now I want to check out the lyrics! Thanks, again.
Heather,
Not sure I qualify as a family blog. But, Clem, as a long time reader, was given the secret handshake years ago. And, he may curse at will.
Brian
Well, Clem, if you give me at least two steps towards the door…I might be able to grab hold of that LP.
Excellent reference Sir. I should have known a Son of the South would be right on top of this. And for your extra effort I’ll even spot you a third step 🙂
Heather,
I’m in agreement, even if I don’t follow my rules close enough!
Brian
Not the happiest thoughts but realistic, and a good reminder that there are no easy answers. Being conscious is so difficult sometimes! Still, I prefer being awake and doing the best I can to live rightly and well in this place and time. I’m amazed that you are able to manage this blog on top of everything else you and Cindy have going on at the farm, and I appreciate your efforts. Your insights are helpful, I enjoy the vicarious experience of the rhythm of the days, and your skill as a writer is inspiring. Enjoy your break, and best wishes to your father. Safe travels!
Sarah,
Well sounds like you and Rick have some pretty impressive skills. But, thanks for the kind words about the writing and our work. And, I hope the Big Thaw comes your way soon in the Wisconsin woods!
Brian
For the next time your weekend reading should include a bit of Wodehouse:
A country squire we know, Bertie Wooster
Procured for himself hen and rooster
His man Jeeves was quite plain
When he felt he should explain
‘Tis not a hen, but rather a goose, sir!
[T-shirt verbiage below a line: “Came for wit and wisdom and this was all I got”]
Amid smelly barnyard
Bertie flaps
whilst watching the goose
chase Honoria
Looking backward at the changes that came with the industrial revolution it is interesting how farmers went from a self-contained economy to a cash economy. I highly recommend watching the two following British factual television series available on YouTube (although they are quite long):
Tudor Monastery Farm looks at British farmers during the Tudor period from 1485 to 1603. Farmers were very self-sufficient and cash was not part of their economy. They had many simple technological solutions for everyday problems such as the wattle and daub fences made from coppicing trees for the saplings. It was obvious that farmers knew a great many hand’s on skills that provided for them and their livestock. Religious ties and community life were also very important. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1ERDYjsHBg
Edwardian farm looks at British farmers during era from 1901-1910 and we see the influence of the mechanization from the industrial revolution taking hold in Britain. The farmers grapple with newly available mechanical technology such as tractors, the availability of prepackaged household goods available in bottles and cans, clothing ready-made, markets in the city for cash crops such as strawberries and flowers, and new forms of income from mining, or catering to tourists who like to take their leisure from the city by visiting rural areas. The farmers had many new opportunities to “earn money” which was required to buy the stuff now made off the farm. In many cases it became difficult for farmers who tried to do too many things and found it hard to do all the other chores needed to keep the farm going. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UcBl4_2FJX4
Humans seem to enjoy the prospect of new and novel things. Perhaps it is a characteristic of our neural network and imagination. At a certain age we also seem to look backward with nostalgia at what has passed us by. Change never unfolds with all the good things we first anticipate. In fact, too often those who stand to benefit the most from selling us new technology tend to over estimate the benefits and under estimate negative side affects. Years ago I began to notice all the gray weathered abandoned farm buildings throughout the country side and I wished I had taken more pictures. I think farming was a good, if hard life, and I agree that we have lost something important. But I’m optimistic! I think as the world shifts away from fossil fuels the only solution will be re-localization and small farms.
cheers,
Jody
Thanks, Jody. Michael, who frequently comments on this blog, has suggested those programs. We may have to search them out.
I have been home recovering from stomach flu so I decided to watch Tudor Monastery Farm again. I was incorrect about the farmers not using money. They did produce extra to sell. They also were tenant farmers on Monastery land
Still interesting information. I was amazed at the number of low-tech solutions these farmers employed and that everyone had some from of craft. What is life without craft? The nice thing is that the show comes in hour long installments so it is fun to watch them as time permits.
I was ready to comment on that very detail you’d forgotten about 🙂
The programme does a good job of explaining the role monasteries had as forerunners to capitalism as we know it, and of the limited time the peasants had to enjoy the effects of high wool prices – until the slave economy made their trade all but redundant.
And yet many viewers will focus on everything else but that.
It is a rare gift to be able to celebrate a parent’s 91st birthday! Judging from the photo of your father at 90, he is doing remarkably well. I have no doubt you will enjoy and appreciate the time with him and the rest of your family. I look forward to reading about the visit!
Thanks, Joan. It was a good visit.