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  • From: Gene GeRue <genegerue AT ruralize.com>
  • To: "homestead AT lists.ibiblio.org" <homestead AT lists.ibiblio.org>
  • Subject: [Homestead] Gardening as Antidote to World Conditions.
  • Date: Wed, 20 Sep 2006 09:55:51 -0500

Journal entry 9/19/06: Gardening as Antidote to World Conditions. Most mornings I read news via satellite. The Net positive is that one has access to international happenings. The Net negative is that one now confronts an endless deluge of information about man's inhumanity to man. Ignorance, intolerance, meanness. Greed. The inability of leaders to improve conditions. This morning I reached a breaking point while reading the plight of India's farmers. Many have become convinced to plant genetically modified Monsanto seeds. They have fallen into the same trap that wrecked American farm families, borrowing to make a crop and burdening unpredictable harvests with interest payments. Crop failures increase indebtedness at high interest from money lenders who take land deeds as collateral. Farmers unable to pay lose their land. Poultry farmers are wiped out due to avian flu. It is reported that in only six of 35 districts in Maharashtra, India's third-largest state, nearly 1,900 farmers have committed suicide since 2001. A common choice is drinking pesticide. A farmer's last borrowing is money for his bottle of death.
A factor is crop prices. American farm subsidies are decried as unfairly affecting the world market. Some point to inadequate Indian bank policies. Whatever the various causes, I finally found myself unable to continue. Enough. Too much. Shut it down.
Looking out at the trees of early autumn found no answer. Change the focus. Do something positive. Following the view outside led to the garden. The garlic bed beckoned. Dreams of future gustatory delights--roast chicken and garlic pizza, poached salmon with pasta and pesto, heavy on the pesto.
Last year I planted cloves from Baker Seeds, partly to be supportive of their heirloom program and partly to see what flavors of exotic varieties I had been missing. German Extra-Hardy and German Porcelain are tasty but once mixed with other ingredients the uniqueness is lost. This year I went back to supermarket bulbs.
Fluffed the soil, mixing it with what's left of mulch, last fall's revenue of grass and leaves. Garlic likes fluffy soil. It also likes rich soil. Sighed, cut down the Rose of Sharon that had sprouted in front of the Taj Mahen people door. Unchickened for five years, the floor has a thick layer of old droppings mixed with sawdust and planer shavings. Tied a moist bandanna over my nose and filled a bucket with the dusty stuff. Shook it onto the fluffed soil followed by bone meal and some old seaweed extract. Raked all into the top inch or so of soil.
The planting board is over twenty years old but still in good shape. Punched in three rows of holes. Chris helped break the bulbs and poke in the cloves. Garlic filament bounced about the garden in the light breeze. Birds chattered. One hundred fifty-six cloves planted. Covered with fine soil, used the back of the rake to smooth, then tamp. Watered well, went back later in the day and watered again. Made a note in the garden journal to feed in early spring with manure tea or fish emulsion.
I feel better now. I am still sad about the plight of those poor bastards in India trying to make a living off the land as their families have done for generations but now beset with conditions beyond their knowledge.
I can't help them. About all any of us commoners can do is to lead lives that others may find useful to follow. I wonder how many people grow their own garlic.





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