Journal Story Weaver

Call me old fashioned, but I prefer to call this a journal story weave.

 Journal Story Weaver

Christmas 2013, And the cat came back the very next day.

His name is Mr. Cheddar Cheese. Born & bred in the back of a barn right here on Cedar Hill Farm in Rocky’s stall. Cheddar is kinda cheesy smellin’ and the cat has attitude and a whole lotta fur. He hit the road when he was 2. I asked the neighbors, and rumor has it the cat’s been cavorting with several fancy felines the past 4 years. Apparently, he moved in at a place nearer the river for a spell. Probably took a liking to fishing, he often smelled like a fish. I tried to keep him home, even my offer of fresh scrambled eggs every morning took a backseat to the ramblings of Mr. Cheddar Cheese. And I missed him with aplomb. It was a wild thing to witness, a cat playing in the sprinkler or pouncing on me as I picked beans or both. So 4 years later at Christmas Cheddar came back. And I will take this as an opportunity to make more eggs because it looks like he brought his wife with him, so there could be a few Cheddar Jr’s soon. I’ll keep you posted….

By Jill Johnson
Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved
jill

July 4, 2012

It was a dark and stormy night. Just like Snoopy, I have my eyes on the sky as I witness huge dark thunderheads of impending tornadic force roar in authority to obscure comparatively puny fireworks below. In a phenomenal display of power, subsequent lightning bolts make a boisterous entrance that is sending hosts of unprepared patriots scurrying to find shelter, covering their heads, and ducking like ducks. Any remaining fireworks and patriot acts peter out quickly. “It’s not nice to blow things up in my sky!” Mother nature demands, “and if that’s not enough of a message, I’ll blow your toupees off.” “Hooray for Independence Day, what a grand finale!” I say.

Anyone who was listening to the weather today knew this storm was brewing, and brewing hot. It was hot, so hot today. “How hot?” you ask. Hotter than a pistol I tell ya. Sticky, steamy, sweaties of wet balls in the eyes kind of hot. So hot as to make any patriot wear, or other clothing for that matter, seem like a bad idea. Not to be outdone by the weather, I’m having the kind of hot flashes that demand a nearby snowbank to throw myself into. Naked, preferably.

Not being the girly girl I am, and not far enough away from puritanical prying patriot peepers, I hoisted the air conditioner into the window instead. In the process of trying to handle an armload of slippery, sweaty, wet metal, I spilled water all over a nearby library book about proofreading. Sure, I can justify spilling all over a modern book about our “proper” English language, and this book was being used as a bedtime lullaby. In other proper words, it was boring. As a lover of books, I would not intentionally deface knowledge. I love books, I love reading. I love the red-hat women who frequent libraries. I thrive on learning. Immediately I rescued the other nearby books about Ancient Greek Poetry from a similar fate. Spilling on hardcover library-bound Ancient Greek Poetry book seems like it should be bad karma, sacrilegious, not to mention heavy on the fine and possible suspension from a place I care about. That was a real close call!

So I assembled a sincere note of apology to librarians everywhere and put the proofreading book in a plastic bag, and just like Snoopy, I keep my eyes to the sky tonight and am thankful to see the storm slowly rumble on towards another locale without inflicting any harm on our garden or horses. Look out Motley, here it comes.

by Jill Johnson
Copyright 2012 Jill Annette Johnson. All Rights Reserved


Red Hatted Women spotted at the local library

After my recent implosion onto a library book, as mentioned in my article of July 4, 2012, I returned my proofreading book to the library with such shame I felt I could not show any librarian my true identity. I inserted the wet (and now moldy) proofreading book (in a plastic bag) with a profuse apology note to all librarians everywhere, into the book drop box. Have mercy, I did not finish the proofreading book before I wrote this. And I saw a gang of red-hatted women congregating around the periphery of the library. I take this as a very good sign that my month will improve now that I fessed up.

Believe it or not, I did not know there really was such a thing as the Red Hat Society until a friend of mine said there truly were clubs like “that” all over the country. Coincidentally, on a really bad day, a week after this conversation with her, it was inspiring to see a troupe of red-hatted women, each hat unique and purposeful tending to the power under their hats, on a mission to inform the public of the presence of higher awareness via education. Oh to have the time to join them!

Even though my friend is not a member, she would be accepted instantly because she’s smart. She owns the rule book: When I am
an old woman, I shall wear purple. Me too. And being a real friend, she of course borrowed me the book as I said I would perhaps like to join their club. For I too, was born to be a member of the Red Hat Society, almost.

My friend is my informant. I’ll not name her name, because as any red-hatted woman or friend of one would tell you, that’s not nice, and we need to operate with a certain amount of decorum. By the conventions of such a group, we would prefer to keep name-calling to a bare minimum and are expected to adopt a language that allows us to more precisely call it what it is. You know a true red-hat woman has the information though. Whether or not the hat is on, that much is always apparent to anybody who is paying attention.

I don’t have a red hat yet. All the really fabulous red hats disappear too quickly from store shelves. I might have to wear my red bandana instead. Out of necessity, I wore red bandanas since I was sixteen so I could ride my bike wherever I wanted. surprise, surprise, the red bandanas are a current fashion statement. I object to following fashion though, I’d rather be a forerunner like my Granny and invent biscotti & faux finishing 10 years before it becomes stale with fashion.
red bandanas, always in fashion

I’d like to offer my services of predicting fashion to this honorable society.
I suppose you could call this my application for admission into the ranks of the official Red Hat Society. If you are a fan or member please contact me at your earliest convenience.

by Jill Johnson
Copyright 2012 Jill Annette Johnson. All Rights Reserved

Rites of passage: Hero goes the wrong direction……..

As a sixth-grader, I was quite fortunate to have a teacher like Mr. Gunderson. He was progressive, learned, informed, well, just plain smart. One of his favored statements was “if you stop learning, you stop living.” One of his favorite subjects was nature. “The ecosystem is a very delicate balance, if any one item in this system is destroyed, the balance of the entire system can collapse”, he said. These pearls of wisdom became words to live by for me.

In a unit on recycling to lessen human impact on this fragile world, we were asked to present reports along with demonstrations of our knowledge of this subject. I was all too happy to oblige. Granny Pantzke had just shown me how to make a rocking chair sculpture out of an empty beer can. I went home and requested the large cans so I could practice. Now I should probably let you know this was way back in the era of bottles. Cans were a relatively new item in stores everywhere. A can large enough to practice with had to be a big Budweiser can more specifically. I did find a can in the trash though and went right to work cutting & rolling it into the rocking chair form Granny showed me. For a novice beer can sculptor, Granny said my artwork came out pretty good, and it was functional. It actually rocked.

A penchant for writing would help with the oral part of this report. I had that too, even though I was usually so shy I refused to speak. The whole report was good and I knew it. I looked forward to giving a great presentation and sharing my beer can technique with my classmates.

Having enough confidence in the subject at hand, I aced this baby. The whole class was dead silent as I explained the process, but they seemed interested and happy.

Within a few weeks, I noticed I was being asked to participate in some of the so-called cool-kids groups. I was being invited to slumber parties more. The class bully left me alone, and the class genius asked me to be his girlfriend (I was too shy to say yes).

I stuck with my original friends. Science classes went on. One day a few weeks later, several kids were missing from class, and we all found out they had been suspended for having a beer party. The class genius was the brains behind the party. I missed out but made up for the drinking later on when I could but did not get away with it.

Now I realize there were a few people who thought I had some kind of underground access to beer, thus my instantaneous popularity. I did not. And I do not recommend any sixth-grade attempts at this report unless you have the same Mr. Gunderson as a teacher.

by Jill Johnson
Copyright 2012 Jill Annette Johnson. All Rights Reserved

fall

summer

Changing my ways in changing seasons.
I try to be plain about it for readability. My preserves contain sugar, berries, pectin. I use my own products because they are safe and trustworthy, my intent and rationale for farming is wholistic health of the farm and everything about it. I have been good to my customers, really good. Those gourmet fillet baby beans take twice as much back-aching bean picking as the regular size generic bean. I’ve arrived at a critical juncture in my life and have made a decision as a Farmer to no longer share the garden bounty. My garden is closed to community supported agriculture because the community is unwilling to work, unwilling to get their hands dirty, unwilling to be a community. My printer had a nervous breakdown, too many label law changes I assume. My generosity has been ripped off by a doctor who wrote me a bad check for fresh produce and a mother teaching her children how to rip a Farmer off for a buck, and so I left for her a pea under her princess mattress then, if you please. The wild black raspberries, parsnips, and asparagus were phenomenal this year and are not for sale. I will also be taking heirloom seeds off the market for the time being due to the food fight.

Below is part of an article from rareseeds.com that should explain the rationale of my decision to halt the food aspect of our business: If you want seeds, I recommend Rareseeds.com.

“The movement to save our seed has become a global one, with gardeners everywhere bringing back the old seeds, saving and dispersing them. The fight to keep them pure is a greater struggle each year, with corporate giants like Monsanto promoting their patented, genetically modified seeds, chemicals, and an ever-widening net of genetic pollution and patent infringement suits against America’s farmers. One of the challenges our company and the planet face annually is the loss of corn (and other crops) varieties due to cross-contamination from these patented, GMO seeds. During the past 8 years since we started testing each lot of heirloom corn we sell, we have found that about 50% of America’s heirloom corn supply is already contaminated with these unwanted, patented, and possibly dangerous, GMO varieties. We have pledged to not sell any seeds that come back positive for Monsanto’s genes in our test samples. Not only do we not believe in offering GMO tainted seeds, but we would also be faced with possible legal action for selling these unwanted genes. We work each year to find growers in more and more remote areas, but corn pollen floats in the air, so maintaining pure corn has become a labor of love. All told, GMO corn has cost our company thousands of dollars in lost crops and sales. Worst of all, though, is that several varieties have been lost because of this contamination.

California’s Proposition 37 to require the labeling of GMO foods has shown how much power the big ag companies and their money can have. Just a matter of weeks before the November election, the majority of voters in California were expected to pass the measure by an overwhelming margin. But the opposing chemical companies were able to pour 45 million dollars into the propaganda that changed voters’ minds. That amount of money influenced voter opinions and caused some of the support of Prop 37 to just fade away. But the fight is not over—nearly 50% of California voters voted in favor of food labeling, and the movement toward pure food continues to grow.

We are just one small company, but we must not give up our fight for pure food. We fight for the right to our seed and the right for farmers to plant without fear of lawsuits from corporate giants bent on controlling every meal our children eat, feeding us untested, and mostly unwanted foods that have genes from who knows what: genes that are toxic to insects, cause tumors in rats and are likely contributing to many allergies according to many health organizations. Even the American Medical Association has called for mandatory pre-market safety testing of genetically engineered foods. These “franken foods” are already labeled in China, Russia, much of Europe and many other countries. That way their citizens have a choice, and nearly everyone is choosing to buy GMO free; even in the USA, polls suggest more than 90% of Americans want GMO food labeled. If your Monsanto-funded senator won’t listen, start your own local food revolution: grow your own, buy local and shop only for brands that are labeled GMO-free. by Jere Baker”

winter

It’s the time of year to fall backwards with abandon into a pile of new, fluffy, sparkling snow–and become an angel. Melt into the brilliance & add some elegance to any winter yard and practice the child-wisdom art of snow angels whenever you can. Become an artist of destiny and unfold those wings for all to see.

Changing Seasons animated angel 2013
It is time for a thousand angels to manifest about us

 

Trifecta holiday crackers by Jill

Here’s what you’ll need;
A regular screwdriver with a rather large head
A pliers
A hammer
An Aluminum Mirro cookie press or 2 (with the ridged cracker cutouts)
A grain mill
A large heavy-duty coffee grinder
1/4 cup Homegrown rye berries ground in heavy mill, then ground to very fine in coffee mill
1/4 cup toasted sesame seeds Grind these up in coffee mill with the rye berries Option: you can use toasted and finely ground wheat germ instead of seeds of wild rice flour. As long as whole grains are used they will be healthy. Do Not Use Bleached or Enriched White Flour what ever you do!!!!!!!
2 Aluminum Mirro cookie presses
1/2 cup Wild rice flour mix from that grain mill we went to
A 1/2 block of cheddar cheese grated fine
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 stick of butter
A few tablespoons of water
A cookie sheet or two, ungreased

Mix up the food ingredients with a fork then put them into the Aluminum Mirro cookie press. You will find that after trying to press two or three crackers out onto a cookie sheet that the cutout detaches from th press and makes a popping noise. This means someone forgot to beta test this device and now it needs to be fixed because the aluminum is not strong enough to hold the cutouts in place. You will now need to remove all the dough from the press and try the other cookie press to see if it also explodes. If the second cookie press also explodes, you will need to: remove the dough from the press, indent the edge that holds the attachment using pliers and hammer, remove the screw on top, and start over many times. Do not be surprised if the dough still tends to ooze out the sides or pop open even after you “fix” both presses. If this is getting too involved, just use a rolling pin and cookie cutters or hand-form the crackers. If the press works good enough to get through all the dough, go ahead and use the press to put the rest of the crackers on cookie sheets. Next time Jill goes shopping (and since she does not like shopping, she probably won’t), Jill wants to try to find a stainless steel or some other unbendable cookie press. You can always buy a press for her. Bake the crackers at 350 until light brown, 10 minutes, I guess, cooking is an experience you make yourself, each experience unique, you be your own critic, this is just how Jill did it and this might not work for you.. Have a friend over to help you eat them or avoid the holiday hassles and eat them yourself.
Jill

Copyright 2012 Jill Annette Johnson
All Rights Reserved.


July 4, 2012

It was a dark and stormy night. Just like Snoopy, I have my eyes to the sky as I witness huge dark thunderheads of impending tornadic force roar in authority to obscure comparatively puny fireworks below. In a phenomenal display of power, subsequent lightning bolts make a boisterous entrance that is sending hosts of unprepared patriots scurrying to find shelter, covering their heads, ducking like ducks. Any remaining fireworks and patriot acts peter out quickly. “It’s not nice to blow things up in my sky!” Mother nature demands, “and if that’s not enough of a message, I’ll blow your toupees off.” “Hooray for Independence Day, what a grand finale!” I say.

Anyone who was listening to the weather today knew this storm was brewing, and brewing hot. It was hot, so hot today. “How hot?” you ask. Hotter than a pistol I tell ya. Sticky, steamy, sweaties of wet balls in the eyes kind of hot. So hot as to make any patriot wear, or other clothing for that matter, seem like a bad idea. Not to be outdone by weather, I’m having the kind of hot flashes that demand a nearby snowbank to throw myself into. Naked, preferably.

Not being the girly girl I am, and not far enough away from puritanical prying patriot peepers, I hoisted the air conditioner into the window instead. In the process of trying to handle an armload of slippery, sweaty, wet metal, I spilled water all over a nearby library book about proofreading. Sure, I can justify spilling all over a modern book about our “proper” English language, and this book was being used as a bedtime lullaby. In other proper words, it was boring. As a lover of books, I would not intentionally deface knowledge. I love books, I love reading. I love the red hat women who frequent libraries. I thrive of learning. Immediately I rescued the other nearby books about Ancient Greek Poetry from a similar fate. Spilling on hardcover library-bound Ancient Greek Poetry book seems like it should be bad karma, sacrilegious, not to mention heavy on the fine and possible suspension from a place I care about. That was a real close call!

So I assembled a sincere note of apology to librarians everywhere and put the proofreading book in a plastic bag, and just like Snoopy, I keep my eyes to the sky tonight and am thankful to see the storm slowly rumble on towards another locale without inflicting any harm on our garden or horses. Look out Motley, here it comes.

Copyright 2012 Jill Annette Johnson
All Rights Reserved.

In this list of idea generators I aim to create impetus towards positive change on behalf of Earth. There must be some ways we as human beings can help save the world. At the top of my list is the ground.

Ever seen the movie Dirt? If not, I believe you may be missing out on some valuable insights on our “nature”. Look for a dvd with a white heart with a flower in it on top of cracked desert on the cover, narrated by Jamie Lee Curtis and starring my favorite mycologist, it accurately sums up the obstacles we face and gives some solid proactive ideas towards rebuilding the earth. And I be the hummingbird asking your assistance.

Earthworms, bacterium, and mycelium are my ideas for the day. These are building blocks that support growth and eventually nourish & sustain us in our lives. Sustainable agriculture is not going to happen without care & consideration. The alternative of destruction is horrendous and has been pointed out by countless scientists. I’ll mention further reading later so you can decide for yourself.

My view-point is as a Farmer, Writer, Lover, Artist, etc……… who feels incredibly sad to see paradise lost.

Idea 1: research and start earthworm plots.

Idea 2: research and start oyster mushrooms. Paul Stamets helped clean up after the Exxon Valdese disaster, and so can you. I highly recommend his book called Mycelium Running, and you’ll find many other worthy reads on fungi perfecti.

Idea 3: research gardening this winter. Invest in and share these types of seeds which replenish themselves and make for a more sustainable world: non-GMO, heirloom, rare, open-pollinated, heritage, native. As a rule of green thumb I grow only the aforementioned types and have found in general they produce better, tastier, healthier crops.  If it is a hybrid, it does NOT have a place in my yard.  Sustainability occurs when you save the seeds from your harvest to plant in future gardens, and especially when you share.

And the bonuses:

I don’t have to buy new seeds year after year.

I cut WAY down on grocery bills by canning, freezing, or drying the harvest.  A typical grocery bill for my partner and I usually does not exceed $200 US per month.

         I’m convinced there is much more flavor and higher nutrition in non-hybrid crops.

In a study GM Food Health Risks Ken Roseboro  GM corn & Roundup causes tumors and organ damage.

Idea 4:  Then get accustomed to getting your hands dirty.  Soil is your friend. Put a little cedar oil around your temples to deter bugs while you work. Knock it off with the ewweww,  abhore nature stuff and admit you are a part of the whole deal.

Idea 5:  Better yet, don’t buy anything from the large multinationals who want to take over food supply with sub-par, overly processed, supra-cleansed,  frankenfoods), when you can grow healthy food and prepare it yourself (with a few tips from yours truly). Find out who is in charge of the food companies you buy from, if at all possible buy local where you can personally check on how your food is grown. In the process of eliminating large multinationals from your diet, you will be assisting your neighbors, your town, and yourself.

I have a little factoid to share. Farm kids tend to excel in and miss less school. Why? They tend to be healthier. I believe one factor is exposure to the elements of nature. Soil, air, bugs, bacteria are not all bad, not at all. A healthy soil produces healthy plants and helpful soil organisms, so revert to Ideas 1 and 2 in intentions and check out Sally Fallon’s book called Nourishing Traditions to get a global view of just how much healthier we could be.

And since according to some idle hands (and I would add minds) are the workshop of the devil, as promised, I am adding a plethora of further reading daily. The list of things to do might become dizzying. Hold on, check back.

Nobody said it would or should be easy.

Mayonnaise and the Origin of Life Thoughts of Minds and Molecules by Harold J. Morowitz

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