Homesteading Middles/Letter to My Children: Invasives and Heavy Machinery Learnings

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Homesteading Middles/Letter to My Children: Invasives and Heavy Machinery Learnings

Dearest Beloveds,

As you know - everywhere there is an edge from open space to tall trees (forest or fallen trees) on our stewarded space - we have invasive plants.

They are mostly a panoply of Multiflora Rose, Autumn Olive (promoted by the USDA in the 1960s as a windbreak or wildlife habitat - now on the USDA invasives list), Japanese Honeysuckle, Porcelainberry vines (or Wild Grape, the jury is out), and a few Black Locusts in the fields themselves. This is obviously not the complete list of invasive plants on our land (I see you Garlic mustard and mugwort) - but these are the hardy woody perennials.

With the exception of the Wild Grape and Black Locust - all of those verdant happy plants originally were introduced from Asia in the 1800s as erosion control, ornamental hedges, and mitigators for disturbed land (mining etc). One can almost get the sense the entire East Coast was stripped bare of plants with overzealous mining and tree clearing (it was) and these plants came in to save the day.

A part of me admires the Trickster joke from Gaia on that one - Okay, you want to cut down all the trees for money and now there is an erosion issue that needs mitigation? Fine, go ahead - uproot these ones from their home across the globe and see what happens. I can wait 200 years for the joke to land.

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Letter to my Children: How to Introduce Yourself

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Letter to my Children: How to Introduce Yourself

My beloved children,

As you know, I grew up in Washington DC. Our nation’s capital, an epicenter of Global North power, and the accompanied jostling endemic to such power. There was a ubiquitous question in the cocktail party circuit. A refrain peeling out from many perfunctory conversations over square cheese bites.

“So, what do you do?”

You are really asking where I can be categorized in the ladder of capitalism. I see you.

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Letter to My Children: Come To The TABLE!

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Letter to My Children: Come To The TABLE!

Dearest Beloveds,

Spring springs, oncology visits abate, and your mother dives a new community. I have become a member of Coming To The TABLE (CTTT).* I have barely begun to scratch the surface of this amazing organization and am already fluttering with excitement and potentialities, not least of which is volunteering all of us to assist with the Freedom Walk 2026.

250 years after 1776, activists will walk the 750 mile trek of the Underground Railroad, “following 19th century routes to freedom.” They are starting in 19 days. Beginning in Maryland, they are tracing the routes traveled by Harriet Tubman and so many other frightened, courageous, inspiring souls - through New Jersey, New York, and into Canada.

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Letter to my Children: Get Ready Man and What the Heck?!

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Letter to my Children: Get Ready Man and What the Heck?!

During the last snowday, teetering on the roof of the wood shelter, Bean was stricken with indecision. “Should I jump?”

From the ground Dragon called up to Bean, , “Get ready! Get read-y!!”

“Dragon, stop!”

“The worllld is coming to an end!”

We all started laughing.

Thank you Thurber.

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Letter to my Children: Single Use Plastic ... Bespoke Clothing

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Letter to my Children: Single Use Plastic ... Bespoke Clothing

Recently, you two played very quiet indoor soccer. On the other end of the building your mother had this internal conversation.

Corinna, raise your hand. You will be mad at yourself if you ignore this nudge to speak.

I am going to ask this question in front of all of these fellow soccer parents - out myself as a crunchy hippy environmentalist - even though I know the answer is capitalism and no, there is no wiggle room.

Yup. Be the Lorax.

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Letter to my Children: Love vs Ignorance

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Letter to my Children: Love vs Ignorance

Dear Beloveds,

One morning on our drive to school I took a break from exclaiming over the rose fingered snow covered mountains. “Okay kids, I want to share something with you that really resonated with your Momma. I was listening to Josh from The Emerald* interviewing a professor, Dr. Omid Safi. The professor said that in his religion, the opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is indifference. I think this is so so soooo true and I wanted to talk about it.”

Quiet in the car.

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Here Comes the Sun

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Here Comes the Sun

Over the years, solar panels have been installed on every square inch of roof. There is nothing better than plugging in one of the cars and knowing that all of the energy generated goes straight to the ballet commute.

Then it snows.

Covering the panels.

The weather settles into below freezing for many days. Many days.

Snug under their blanket of snow, the panels teased and mocked me.

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The Dream of Safety

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The Dream of Safety

In 1984, James Baldwin wrote an essay for Essence, “On Being White… And Other Lies”. I urge you to chew on the whole thing again and again and again - because James Baldwin, sigh, what a BRAIN!

Quite convincingly, Baldwin argues the construct of “whiteness” or “being white” was chosen deliberately by European immigrants in order to participate in and benefit from America’s racial hierarchy.* As such, those of us who identify as white are left bereft of any moral authority.

America became white - the people who, as they claim, "settled" the country became white - because of the necessity of denying the Black presence, and justifying the Black subjugation…

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Letter to My Children: X Days

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Letter to My Children: X Days

“Momma, why do you have big Xs in your book?” Looking up from her morning granola, Bean’s gesticulated with her spoon toward my open calendar book.

“Ah ha, those are my favorite days. Those are the days where I am not allowed to schedule anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I want time and space to focus and work on my own projects it is really difficult for me to do that if the day is carved into appointments all day long. It is really easy for your mother to fill my day with doings if I didn’t write big Xs in my book.” I flipped back to a week before school started. “See how this week, every day is filled with doings? Party, doctor appointment, friend call, another doctor appointment…”

“But why a big X?”

“That way, I have to think twice before putting something in that day because I know I am sacrificing a day of Corinna creativity… it better be worth it!”

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Letter to my Children: Day Drinking, The Overstory, Self Judgement

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Letter to my Children: Day Drinking, The Overstory, Self Judgement

My dearest beloveds,

I have gone back and forth about this missive several times. It is a poem (see below*) and now a whole lot more.

To summarize, on the last full day of our magical vacation I felt so confronted by the situation I self-medicated with two White Russians, an Aperol Spritz, and a Mojito. Not surprisingly, I passed out on the beach after lunch.

What situation? I hear you both ask. You sailed everyday, ate passionfruit and mango, gazed at the ocean while doing yoga, and swung on a trapeze for the first time in your life.

Yes, that is all true, it was truly divine.

AND every morning BIPOC bodies of former European colonies collected cigarette butts, empty champagne glasses, errant volleyballs, straightened beach chairs, and prepared food for 98% White European bodies.

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The Overwhelming Necessity of a Cultural Exhale

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The Overwhelming Necessity of a Cultural Exhale

I remember my grandmother telling me when she was young they thought it would be possible for the world to move from a 5 day work week to a 4 day work week.

Turns out, her memory was bang on. John Maynard Keynes wrote the article Economic Possibilities for our Grandchildren in 1930. This is a fascinating article to read for many reasons. Not least of which is his clear eyed assessment of the source of Britain’s wealth and his vision to return to the most “certain principles” of traditional virtue: when “avarice is a vice, and the exaction of usury is a misdemeanour [sic], and the love of money is detestable.”

All of that aside, his main argument was that technological improvements and the accumulation of capital have “solved the economic problem… [mankind’s] traditional purpose.”* Within 100 years, Keynes surmised there could be a 15 hour work week or 3 hours shifts to do the necessary work, to “use the new-found bounty of nature differently from the way in which the rich use it to-day.” Keynes found the current rich avant garde leisure class “very depressing” in their “achievements… in any quarter of the world.”

Ah, sigh.

100 years gone and still depressing.

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