gregoryjoel

Choices, Community, Down On the Farm, Education, Faith, Farmers Markets, Food Insecurity, Food Justice, Gardening, Health, Neighbors, Non-Profits, Opal's Farm, Public Policy, Quotes, Service Organizations, Service to Others, Social Justice, Spirituality, Spring, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming, What Can I Do

Buy Local – Now More Than Ever

March 9, 2025 gregoryjoel

I apologize for not posting regularly over the last couple of months. Opal’s Farm is going through several changes right now – most notably in staff. Recent cuts to USDA funding and January resignations have left the farm work to myself, my Volunteer Coordinator, Stacey Harwood, and a small number of volunteers. We are still on track for all our Spring planting and looking forward to a great harvest.

The bipolar Texas weather hasn’t helped even though it has kept things interesting. The freezing weather one week and in the eighties the next caused some of the winter crops to bolt. That was followed by seventy-two hours of sub-freezing weather and the plants took it much harder than the first round of freezes. The good news is that it looks like we’ve had our last hard freeze. Tomatoes are coming on the 17^th and the rest of Spring planting is underway. We’re looking forward to bringing the Spring harvest to market!

I would also like to take a moment to talk about the many non-profit organizations working in agriculture and food systems. They have endured financial hardships due to the recent changes at the USDA. Some programs that aid farmers and farm organizations have been shut down indefinitely as funding has been frozen or eliminated entirely. Economic uncertainty faces us all.

The average age of a farmer in Texas is sixty-two. Part of our mission is to incubate new farms and train new farmers. American Farmland Trust has a slogan that says it all: “No farms. No food”. Please consider the importance of our local farmers, the healthy fresh produce they bring to our community, and the education they bring to the next generation of farmers, both urban and rural.

I’ve spent the last two months with our “Taste the C.U.R.E.” students and seen the interest and willingness to be part of the grower’s community. Not only do they want healthy food for themselves, but they want to feed their neighbors. Urban agriculture is a growing alternative to high food prices and the ultra-processed food found at the big grocery stores. We hope the movement continues to grow and that you can become a part of it.

You can support your local farmers and food system through financial donations, calling your elected representatives, volunteering at a local farm, or simply shopping local at your local farmers market or farm stand. Not only is local produce healthier, it ensures that food access is available to your community. Food access is not a “DEI” issue. It should be available to all of us. Healthy food is a basic human right. Your local farmers are working long hours to feed us all. Buy local and support your local farm!

Bad Weather, Children, Christmas, Events, Generations, Gratitude, Parents, Relationships, Stories, Storms, Storytelling

Christmas Stockings

February 9, 2025 gregoryjoel

I don’t know how long it took to get to Swedish Medical Center. I’d never been there before but I knew that on a normal day it was only six or seven minutes from the house. This Christmas Eve night it took hours. It didn’t, but it sure felt like it.

Our arrival turned into a blur though – out of the car with the paramedics grabbing Jennine to steady her across the snow and ice then through the ambulance bay doors and me holding a bundled-up Adrian in one arm and Jennine’s go bag and a diaper bag in the other. Suddenly we were in Labor and Delivery.

I vaguely remember the flurry of activity around Jennine as they got her settled into the labor room. A nurse said something about the labor pains coming much quicker and telling us that it shouldn’t be long now. Someone popped their head in to tell me that my Mom and Dad had a friend bringing them to the hospital in his four-wheel drive. Adrian could stay with them for the night. One problem solved anyway…

The doctor entered the room. Keep in mind that this doctor was a total stranger in a hospital we’d never been to before. He grabbed one of the labor room nurses and asked for an update, never looking or speaking to Jennine or me. That was already two strikes against him. When he groaned and walked back out of the labor room it was strike three. Jennine grabbed my hand and cried out, “Who is this guy? I don’t like him. I want my doctor. It’s all your fault we’re here”.

“It’s going to be okay. I’ll find out what’s going on”. I was a little perturbed to be assigned all the blame for the whole situation. I was pretty damned sure she was present when this whole thing started. After all, it takes two to make this process work. I didn’t ask for the blizzard either.

“Stay here, she barked about the time the latest contraction came on full force. I was thinking no problem as my hand she was gripping went numb. I wasn’t going anywhere.

The nurses finally got Jennine settled in. The monitors were all hooked up and the initial examination was over. The contractions were only three or four minutes apart and our nurse informed us she was almost fully dilated. She was a Godsend. She seemed to be the only one taking the time to pay attention to us. I wish I could remember her name. Back then I would’ve sent her a bottle of twelve-year old scotch and a thank you note.

We had been through La Maze birth classes before Adrian was born and had a refresher course back in October. We had wanted a natural childbirth – at least that’s what I reminded Jennine every time she hollered for drugs as her labor became more intense. I tried to be a calming voice of reason and help her with breathing through the contractions. Apparently, a calming voice of reason wasn’t needed nor appreciated in this situation. They finally came in to do an epidural block.

Our nurse came in and, sensing the tension, she let me know I needed to go downstairs with Adrian; that my parents were almost here. How she knew that I’m not sure as cell phones were still science fiction in 1982. She also mentioned that the doctor had been here since the night before because of the storm. “She’s in good hands.” I thanked her, grabbed Adrian, his diaper bag, and headed downstairs.

I vaguely remember giving Adrian to my mother, hugging my parents – who I hadn’t seen since they got to town – and thanking our friend Mark for getting them here and back home with my son. All I could think of was getting back upstairs. I stayed in the lobby long enough to watch them all drive off into the falling snow and ran for the elevator.

I returned to the labor room and the nurse informed me I better “gown -up”. They were taking her to the delivery room right away. We had been there maybe an hour or so. I said a silent prayer of gratitude for the guy who volunteered his Jeep, the paramedics, nurses, and even the doctor Jennine didn’t like. The time it would have taken an ambulance to arrive would have meant a home delivery. I’d like to think I could’ve done it, but I was so glad I didn’t have to find out. It was going to be okay.

Sometimes I regret not being able to remember all the details of our time in the delivery room. It went so quickly, for which I was appreciative. Jennine had the hard work, but it’s hard to see your wife in pain. The only thing I remember is the doctor saying,” It’s a healthy baby boy”. The nurse took him and cleaned him up. I’m sure they went through all the post-birth baby and mother checklist before he announced, “Here’s your son”.

The one thing I remember quite clearly is that Jennine didn’t want to take him, and the nurse handed Jeremy to me. Her reluctance to take Jeremy was, in hindsight, a red flag but more about that later. I cradled Jeremy in my arms and burst into joyful tears as I saw another beautiful son.

The nurse that had been with us all through labor and delivery took Jeremy back. She told me they were moving Jennine to the maternity ward and taking Jeremy to the nursery. Then she said, “You should try to grab some sleep until we bring Jeremy to your wife’s room. Go into the Nurse’s Lounge and there’s a couch in there to lay down on. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

I said thank you and felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. The adrenaline coursing through my body had suddenly shut off and left me drained. It was all over and I had a new son.

I’m not sure how long I got to sleep but when our nurse returned to wake me up, I was suddenly alert and full of energy. “We’re going to bring Jeremy to her room so they’ll both there”, she said as we waited for the elevator. My excitement level made for the longest wait time ever recorded for elevator doors to open – maybe not?.

The nurse opened the door, motioned me in, and closed the door behind me. I entered the room and went to hug Jennine. I was sitting on the bed holding her hand when a maternity floor nurse entered the room with Jeremy. He was stuffed into a little Christmas stocking with a Santa cap on his head. The nurse picked him up and handed him to Jennine. I still have the picture from all those years ago of Jennine as she held our son for the first time. Her smile radiated love and beauty filling the room as she looked into Jeremy’s eyes. A small joyful tear rolled down her cheek.

I can’t recall the rest of Christmas Day in 1982. I know my parents came back to the hospital to visit and take Adrian and I home. We planned to celebrate Christmas when Jennine and Jeremy came home the next day. My sister had spent Christmas Eve at the DFW airport before they finally cancelled all flights to Denver so she wouldn’t be with us that year and spend Christmas alone. Everything else is stored in memory sections of my brain that I no longer have access to.

I can say that it took a week-and-a-half to dig my car out and the alleyway so I could even get to the street where snowplows had left a huge pile of snow. I used my cross-country skis to get to the nearby Seven Eleven only to find bare shelves. The local media had a hay day with the “Hundred Year Blizzard of ‘82”. Everyone had opinions about the city’s response to the storm and the time it took to clear the streets; most of them beyond negative. Blame was heaped on Mayor Bill Nichols, who had been the only Mayor I’d known since moving to Denver in 1969, costing him his re-election later that year.

None of it really made a difference to me. We had another son. Every parent sees their new child as the most beautiful baby ever. The truth is, if it’s a vaginal birth all babies look like little aliens, but they appear much differently to the parents that waited so patiently for them. I had just received the best Christmas present ever and life would never be the same.

Community, Environment, Heroes, Quotes

Thought for the Day

February 5, 2025 gregoryjoel

“Join with the Earth and each other, to bring new life to the land, to restore the waters, to refresh the air, to renew the forests, to care for the plants, to protect the creatures, to celebrate the seas, to rejoice in the sunlight, to sing the song of the stars, to recall our destiny, to renew our spirits, to reinvigorate our bodies, to recreate the human community, to promote justice and peace, to love our children and love one another, to join together as many and diverse expressions of one loving mystery, for the healing of the Earth and the renewal of all life.” – Dr Martin Luther King, Jr.

Community, Down On the Farm, Faith, Food Insecurity, Food Justice, Gratitude, Neighbors, Opal's Farm, Quotes, Regeneration, Seasons, Service Organizations, Social Justice, Spirituality, Texas, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming

There’s a Shadow Here

February 2, 2025 gregoryjoel

Happy Groundhog Day! I’m not sure about that furry little creature in Pennsylvania but a groundhog would see his shadow here in Fort Worth. We’re having a false Spring with sunny weather and Spring-like temperatures approaching eighty degrees for the first week of February. Don’t be deceived though. It is a false Spring. February and early March lie ahead and this is Texas. Need I say more.

We’ll be planting onions and potatoes this week but little else despite the warm weather. Bed preparation moves full steam ahead. Our “Taste the C.U.R.E.” students are making amazing progress on their plots. Seeing their diligence and desire reinvigorates us the have the best Spring yet!

The Texas Organic Famers and Gardeners Association 2025 conference is completed. It was great to see folks from all around the state I only get to see once or twice a year. I would like to say a huge thank you to the TOFGA Board for inviting me to speak at one of the workshops this year. I appreciate everyone who attended and look forward to seeing you again soon.

I haven’t posted much for the last month. My wife, Margaret, has been in the hospital for two weeks and only came home a week and a half ago. Thank you for your prayers and phone calls. It’s been hectic with Margaret, work travel, and all that comes with a home, four dogs, and grandkids. Going to work is like a vacation!

I also said goodbye to Joey Hughes, my Assistant Manager. Joey is going to be managing and expanding the educational opportunities at the Ridglea Giving Garden, as well as working with the North Texas School Garden Network and Hollow Trace Farm part-time. I appreciate all the work Joey put into growing our biointensive learning garden and kids’ educational curriculum for the field trips we host.

Speaking of which, Spring is the perfect time to bring kids of all ages (and as Ms. Opal likes to remind me, “You’re all kids if you’re not ninety-eight years old”) to the farm for a tour or field trip. You can book your tour or field trip at Delve Experiences, but hurry as Spring dates will be filling up fast.

Activism, Belief, Christianity, Community, Courage, Emotional Health, Faith, Goodness, Grace, Hope, Marginalized, Neighbors, New Year's Day, Practice, Prayer, Quotes, Recovery, Relationships, Responsibility, Service to Others, Simplicity, Spirituality, Truth, What Can I Do

Be an Idealist

January 5, 2025 gregoryjoel

Happy New Year to you all! I find this a time of reflection on the past year and look forward toward the new one. I haven’t been in the best place emotionally during the holidays since my son passed away four-and-a-half years ago (he was born on Christmas Day), so reflection comes much easier this time of year. If there is anything positive about grief is that it makes reflection more honest.

If I’m honest, 2024 was a difficult year. It really doesn’t apply to the farm – we’re having record year. I have been blessed to have found two good men to be part of our mission and I give all the credit to their independent thinking, hard work, and new ideas. I’ve been able to let go of several work things because I have good people to help me walk this path together. It’s been my personal life that has been difficult. Difficulties seem to be directly tied the growth rates – the more growth that occurs, the greater the degree of difficulty. Actually, come to think of it, it’s not the changes growth brings that bring on the difficulty, but my resistance to the changes.

Most of the time I’m a pretty levelheaded, compassionate, person: at least that’s what people tell me. The Golden Rule has become a guidepost for most of my interactions with people, but I found myself holding folks to a set of unrealistic expectations. Experience has taught me that whenever I place expectations on others, I’m bound to be disappointed.

However, take the expectations away and people will be people. They’ll make decisions that baffle me (the election of the Great Pumpkin) and they certainly won’t change when I want them to. People are unintentionally uncooperative. I don’t get it, but then again, I don’t have to get it. Reality often conflicts with idealism. Maybe that’s the problem – I’m just too idealistic.

If you’re like me, the pendulum swings both ways (balance is the beam I trip on while running between extremes), and suddenly I find myself letting go of idealism and grabbing onto an unflattering picture of reality. That picture is most often accompanied by a sense of self-righteousness, self-absorption, and self-centeredness. I’m blessed to have been given the tools to see this much more quickly and return to the idealism I hated just a moment ago…

Idealism isn’t necessarily negative though. I like being idealistic. It’s not seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, boundless optimism, and being disconnected from reality like I’ve always been told. It’s seeing the world as it is, with all its ugliness and human failures and yet choosing to see the world as it could be. I think that’s what Jesus meant when he said, “unless you become like the little children you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven”.

I can’t count the times I heard “you’ll grow out of your idealism and begin to see how things really are”, “there’s no place for idealism, it just isn’t reality”, or you’re such a Pollyanna”. I have to admit I’ve even used those words myself – usually as a defense for acting in opposition to my deep-seated values about right and wrong. Now I see this anti-idealism sentiment for what it is – a denial that there is indeed a Kingdom of Heaven. Perhaps that’s a part of what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called “cheap grace” and a willingness to carry on as a citizen of the world rather than the Kingdom of God while claiming grace for one’s self.

Jesus instructed His followers to pray for “your (God’s) kingdom come, your will be done on Earth as it is in heaven”. Nowhere did he say I can be a part of the world’s mechanics with all the division, selfishness, and false patriotism. He asked that we bring the Kingdom of God to Earth and what is the Kingdom of God but the ideal state – a place of justice, goodness, compassion, empathy, and love. So, where does that leave me?

I must return to a childlike faith that recognizes all is grace and a dependency on God. When my boys were little, they depended on me as their father for everything. That’s been the goal of my life today. I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering how I’m going to deal with the consequences of the November 5^th election. It’s the same way I would act had the outcome been different – trust my Father and act accordingly.

In twelve step programs the idea of prayer is limited to praying “only knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.” He makes his will clear – “love God with all your heart, mind, and soul and love your neighbor as yourself.” Seems like pretty simple, childlike instructions to me. It’s not about what other people do (which I can never understand anyway), but about what I do.

I don’t get to choose who I show love and kindness to. Quite frankly, I’m always a bit amazed when simply loving (and acting like it!) someone despite their often “unlovableness” can bring about unexpected results. It also means standing up for those bullied by the world: the marginalized and left behind. It means action.

I’m not sure what 2025 will bring. Many of my friends dread the New Year and the shitstorm that’s likely to come with it, especially after the election results of November 5^th. I was angry for a couple of days and probably grieved a couple of more until I figured out it’s just the same way the world and all its powers and principalities have always worked. It doesn’t change a thing for an idealist who will continue to get up, get busy, and do what they did the day before – love God and love others. Everything else will take care of itself, and don’t forget, grow up to be a kid…

“Don’t worry about being effective. Just concentrate on being faithful to the truth.” – Dorothy Day