Returning to the Land: Reclaiming the legacy of my grandparents
On October 11th, 2010, my family will sell off the remaining acres of what was once a part of my Grandparent's 100 acre dairy farm in Quarryville, Pennsylvania. The house I've known as my grandparent's home for the past 23 years will be sold. Familiar memories will no longer have a physical place to return but neither will we like we did every summer of my childhood. But some memories, stories and knowledge once passed down from generation to generation, will be completely lost. I don't know these stories.
Just down the road from this house is the old farm house settled on the corner of crossing roads, across from the cow pasture and the creek where my Grandmother Sadie taught my father how to float. An Amish family has lived and worked on this farm for several years now. So long ago, in fact, that I never had memories of it. I don't know what life was like here for my father or my father's parents. Life in which early morning milkings in the barn were as expected as the sun rising is a foreign concept to me. The rural background of my relatives is not one that I share. Although I grew up around thick, black soil, their story is not mine. And yes, I may be a result an Iowa farmstead and an Amish-Mennonite dairy mixture, but I, like so many in my generation, know absolutely nothing about it. I am as detached from these roots as those bright yellow bananas sitting in the chilled universe of the Wal-Mart produce section. And here is my proof: I recently found out that potatoes have a plant part.
Yep. I just realized that.
People, it's not as if I've grown up in the heart of a city where the only green things were weeds pushing themselves through cracks in the sidewalk. I grew up in a small, rural town in the heart of Illinois. We had a decent sized garden in the back yard from which we reaped the benefits from all year long. But I've never really given a whole lot of thought to potatoes. After a rather unsuccessful season, my father gave up growing them. I was too young to really remember that summer. I've never seen a potato field. All I know is those brown paper bags they come in from the grocery store. (Although, I hoped that if I would have sat down and actually thought deeply about potatoes I would have realized that yes, they do in fact have a plant part).
It's for that potato inspired reason that I am starting this blog. I am tired of making blind consumer choices. I am ready for something new.
Something local.
Something with actual flavor. I mean, have you seen those almost white substances they called "tomatoes" at Subway? Gross.
My family and I actually just finished listening to Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and that book, as well as my undergrad education from Bluffton University has gotten me thinking a lot about our current food culture as Americans (or lack of one more likely), how it is destroying the small farms, as well as killing our bodies. Yes, what we are putting in our mouths is actually killing us. The American youth are the first generation in our nation's history to have a lower life expectancy rate than their parents. That information with the history of heart problems and high cholesterol that runs in my family, makes me think twice about that processed hamburger meat stuck between a bun made with high fructose corn syrup in every fast food joint so readily available. Well, most of the time. I'm, not perfect, but like I said, I am ready for something new.
I decided to launch this blog in the hopes that with a (hopefully) public, writing outlet that it will keep me more accountable as I do my best to make choices about food. So here is my oath. I, Anna Joelle Yoder, will do my best to make better consumer choices especially those that pertain to local, organic food. I am not promising to be perfect. But I am promising to no longer live in an artificially sweetened ignorance. I promise to do small things every single day that not only improve the overall quality and favor of the food I eat but also ones that enhance, not harm, my health and the land around me, and support small farmers. It's not much, in the grand scheme of things, but it's a start. As Stephen Hopp wrote in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle,
So let's raise our forks, and toast to this exciting challenge that waits for me.
Just down the road from this house is the old farm house settled on the corner of crossing roads, across from the cow pasture and the creek where my Grandmother Sadie taught my father how to float. An Amish family has lived and worked on this farm for several years now. So long ago, in fact, that I never had memories of it. I don't know what life was like here for my father or my father's parents. Life in which early morning milkings in the barn were as expected as the sun rising is a foreign concept to me. The rural background of my relatives is not one that I share. Although I grew up around thick, black soil, their story is not mine. And yes, I may be a result an Iowa farmstead and an Amish-Mennonite dairy mixture, but I, like so many in my generation, know absolutely nothing about it. I am as detached from these roots as those bright yellow bananas sitting in the chilled universe of the Wal-Mart produce section. And here is my proof: I recently found out that potatoes have a plant part.
Yep. I just realized that.
People, it's not as if I've grown up in the heart of a city where the only green things were weeds pushing themselves through cracks in the sidewalk. I grew up in a small, rural town in the heart of Illinois. We had a decent sized garden in the back yard from which we reaped the benefits from all year long. But I've never really given a whole lot of thought to potatoes. After a rather unsuccessful season, my father gave up growing them. I was too young to really remember that summer. I've never seen a potato field. All I know is those brown paper bags they come in from the grocery store. (Although, I hoped that if I would have sat down and actually thought deeply about potatoes I would have realized that yes, they do in fact have a plant part).
It's for that potato inspired reason that I am starting this blog. I am tired of making blind consumer choices. I am ready for something new.
Something local.
Something with actual flavor. I mean, have you seen those almost white substances they called "tomatoes" at Subway? Gross.
My family and I actually just finished listening to Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and that book, as well as my undergrad education from Bluffton University has gotten me thinking a lot about our current food culture as Americans (or lack of one more likely), how it is destroying the small farms, as well as killing our bodies. Yes, what we are putting in our mouths is actually killing us. The American youth are the first generation in our nation's history to have a lower life expectancy rate than their parents. That information with the history of heart problems and high cholesterol that runs in my family, makes me think twice about that processed hamburger meat stuck between a bun made with high fructose corn syrup in every fast food joint so readily available. Well, most of the time. I'm, not perfect, but like I said, I am ready for something new.
I decided to launch this blog in the hopes that with a (hopefully) public, writing outlet that it will keep me more accountable as I do my best to make choices about food. So here is my oath. I, Anna Joelle Yoder, will do my best to make better consumer choices especially those that pertain to local, organic food. I am not promising to be perfect. But I am promising to no longer live in an artificially sweetened ignorance. I promise to do small things every single day that not only improve the overall quality and favor of the food I eat but also ones that enhance, not harm, my health and the land around me, and support small farmers. It's not much, in the grand scheme of things, but it's a start. As Stephen Hopp wrote in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle,
If every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we would reduce our country's oil consumption by over 1.1. million barrels of oil every week. That's not gallons, but barrels. Small changes in buying habits can make a big difference. Becoming a less energy-dependent nation may just need to start with a good breakfast.That is my inspiration- to be a part of the locavores moment. But also to in some way stay a part of the agricultural story that was so familiar to my grandparents.
So let's raise our forks, and toast to this exciting challenge that waits for me.
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