Thoughts From the Porch: I got up early this morning expecting a heavy rain, but found dry ground and overcast skies instead. I’m not complaining, mind you, but the weather folks were so insistent it’d be raining this morning, I planned to stay home and work about the house. As it is, I’ll take advantage of the dry weather to squeeze another day’s work out of Opal’s Farm. One can never tell how many dry days lay ahead. Such is Spring in Texas…
I thoroughly enjoy my days
at the farm. It can be frustrating being a “start-up”: money is always tight
(and sometimes non-existent – hint, hint…) and grants are difficult unless you’ve
been around a while. I’m so thankful for partners like the White Settlement
Home Depot store and Team Depot, Zimmerer Kubota, Healthy Tarrant Collaborative,
and Container King for providing the support and tools that make Opal’s Farm a
success.
The first year of farming
is the most difficult. It’s extremely labor intensive. There’s infrastructure
to be built and is contingent on the weather and volunteers to help with the
work. We’ve been blessed with volunteers. TCU student interns are working on
social media, fundraising and marketing. Riverside Arts District has provided
neighborhood support for the farm. I receive calls inquiring, “can I volunteer?”
The answer is a resounding yes. You have no idea how much we love our
volunteers!
Well, I’m off to the farm
again. Before I go, I want to remind you to go to Opal’s Farm Facebook Page or
to www.unityunlimited/opalsfarm.org
to make your secure donation today.
Spring officially arrived
this week and I have the sunburn to prove it. I’m not bragging, mind you. I
feel guilty for even mentioning this because I know some folks are still
dealing with the effects of a lingering winter. I lived in Colorado for many
years. Sporadic winter storms could pester everyone until April sometimes. Planting
ones garden often had to wait until May. Heck, I remember going over Monument Pass
in white-out conditions on June 6th. Apparently, it set the record
for latest snow on Colorado’s front range.
If you’re feeling a bit envious of our warmer weather, please know Spring in North Texas can be a bit tricky as we make up the southern end of “Tornado Alley”. Severe thunderstorms are our version of ‘Bomb’ cyclones and blizzard conditions. They just don’t last as long.
The sunshine brought a
busy week to Opal’s Farm. Thanks to Zimmerer Kubota and the tractor they
provided, the plowing is finished, and bed preparation has begun. The first
season of farming is the most difficult simply because all the ‘infrastructure’
must be built (from the ground up – no pun intended). Organic farming becomes
easier with each passing growing season because more organic material is put
back into the soil.
Caring for the soil is why
we call it regenerative agriculture. We rebuild and renew the soil instead of
draining it dry of nutrients through chemical applications of herbicides,
insecticides, and typical commercial fertilizers. Caring for the soil is also
the way we practice stewardship of the creation we get to enjoy. Most
importantly, care brings a bountiful harvest for our community.
Today’s post will be short. The sun is shining, and wet weather is coming this weekend so it’s time to get busy. This afternoon, Texas Christian University (TCU) students working with the Tarrant Food Policy Council are coming out for a photo shoot at the farm. We are so grateful for TCU, their support, and their work to make urban agriculture a success in Fort Worth. I would be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to Dr. Aftandilian’s class for each and every one of his students who are working with Grow Southeast and Opal’s Farm. Thank you, TCU!
Just a reminder – we can’t do it without all of you. WE love our volunteers and donors. You can always donate to Opal’s Farm by going to our Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/unityunlimited or directly to http://www.unity unlimited.org. Make sure you note that it’s for Opal’s Farm.
Thoughts from the Porch: It’s the last day of January. It felt like it on the porch. Still, I can enjoy my porch time unlike our neighbors to the north. The record low temperatures remind me how lucky I am to be a Texan where we complain about the cold when the high is in the forties, not forty below. Prayers of warmth are being sent up for the folks in the Midwest. Hang in there, guys…
Being from Texas, I’m
genetically predisposed to be a football fan. Football is most certainly a
religion here. Our football fervor has inspired countless books, several movies
and even a television series, “Friday Night Lights”. Visit any small town on
Friday nights in the Fall and you’ll see what I mean. In the big cities there
are multi-million dollars high school stadiums filled with frenzied fans. Winning
coaches and star players are often held in the same worshipful regard as Davy
Crockett and the heroes of the Alamo. Fans know the stats of every player on
the home team. For a few months of the year, football is king.
When I moved to Colorado in my
early teen years, I was baffled that high school football seemed to take a back
seat to basketball. My dad informed me that football wasn’t revered by the heathens
north of the Red River. Though that might have been true about high school, it
didn’t seem to apply to pro ball. Denver Bronco fans were intense! Colorado had
some redeeming qualities after all!
For many years, my Sunday
afternoons were spent at either the stadium or in front of the television. I
was happy to play Monday morning quarterback with coworkers and friends. God
forbid that I ever miss a Super Bowl, regardless of whether my teams were
playing. I was a football fan!
This coming Sunday is Super
Bowl LIII. It’s unlikely I’ll be tuning in except to see the new crop of Super
Bowl commercials for the year. They’re far more entertaining even if they are
about rampant consumerism. Things have changed over the years. I may see part
of one or two games per season, if I think about it. Watching for a few minutes
seems to be a waste of time. It’s just not the same.
I still make high school games.
I love the school spirit, the energy, and the love of the game. High school
players still play ball because they enjoy it; for the most part anyway. People
still fill the stadium because that’s what we do: support our kids, yell at the
opponents, and then go out for dinner with them after the game. There’s a
certain purity to that.
I don’t follow professional
football much. Not only are the Dallas Cowboys (my favorite team) absent from
the playoffs most years, watching a bunch of prima donnas do put on end zone
theatrics, kind of turns my stomach. It’s far more about money and celebrity than
it is love of the game. Real players and role models are few and far between.
I have mixed emotions about the sport today. The medical community has begun to understand the long-term consequences of the game. It’s not just bad knees and back problems anymore. There’s traumatic brain injury and early onset dementia to think about. I sometimes wonder if allowing my son to play was in his best interests. His college scholarship hopes were cut short by an injury during his senior year.
Despite his injuries, I still
believe in high school football and the purity of the game. He learned a lot
about teamwork, sportsmanship, and perseverance playing ball. Watching most
(not all, mind you) pro players today those things seem to be absent. I have no
desire to give my time or my dollars to such foolishness.
So, this Sunday will find me
working around the house, catching a movie on Netflix, or sleeping in my
recliner. You won’t find me watching the “Big Game” but, if it’s a Friday night
in November, you might just see me under the Friday night lights.
“When you come to the end of all the light you know, and it’s time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen: Either you will be given something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly.” — Edward Teller
One of my favorite scenes from
the “Indiana Jones” movies where Harrison Ford’s character must step out in
faith over a giant chasm in order to reach the Holy Grail. With his nemesis
holding him and the people he loves at gunpoint, he’s at wit’s end and out of
options. He steps out into the darkness of the abyss. As he takes the first
step a narrow bridge begins to come into view. Unfortunately, it can only be
seen with each successive step, one step at a time. Each step requires more
courage, more faith, than the one before. I can’t recall how many steps it took
to get across the dark abyss, but I’d like to think it was twelve. I can
relate…
That scene’s been on my mind a lot lately. Margaret and I are experiencing some difficulties as late. Finances have been tough since my hospital stay earlier this year. Business has been slower than projected. Opal’s Farm still has a way to go before all the start-up costs are in hand and planting is scheduled for February 15th. How are we going to do this? It’s a little overwhelming at times (OK, a lot overwhelming…) The chasm looks awfully vast at times…
If I get honest, I’m a lot like
Indiana Jones (well, except for the whole “dashing adventure hero” thing…). I
usually need to be backed into a corner with no options or solutions in sight. I
know there’s absolutely no way I can get out of the situation before I’m
willing to step out into the darkness. I forget the fact that in looking back, a
path has always been carved through
the darkness and it’s always illuminated. If the path isn’t clear, I learn to
fly before I crash into the bottom of the abyss. Always! Though I usually don’t
see it until later…
You’d think that with such a
proven track record I’d push right through whatever obstacle was in my way. It
doesn’t always work like that. Taking that first step into the abyss isn’t my
first choice. I temporarily forget God’s faithfulness. As my friend Edgar likes
to remind me, “I’m not a slow learner,
just a fast forgetter”.
“Trials are not enemies of
faith but are opportunities to prove God’s faithfulness.” — Author Unknown
Ironically, my memory gets
sharper as I grow older: at least in matters of faith (in other areas, yeah,
not so much…) It doesn’t take as long to remember God’s faithfulness even when
mine is absent. One of my favorite reminders is Psalms 119.105: “Your word for my feet and a lamp for my
path”. The funny thing about a lamp is that it only shows what’s
immediately ahead. I can only see the path if I keep stepping out, one step at
a time…
I’ve spent far too much time stressed out about things beyond my control, so I’m stepping out. Whether I’ll be walking or flying, I’m not sure yet. What I do know is that I’ll see you on the other side…
Thoughts From the Porch: I typed 2019 for the first time
this year and actually got it right the first time! Hang on to the little life
triumphs wherever you can, right? Starting off the year with a victory sets the
tone for the whole year!
I hope each of you had a wonderful New Year’s celebration.
Margaret and I celebrated by falling asleep before the 10:00 o’clock news
ended. I woke up to a whole new year. I finally feel like I got enough sleep…
I hope each of you had a wonderful New Year’s celebration. Margaret and I celebrated by falling asleep before the 10:00 o’clock news ended. I woke up to a whole new year. I finally feel like I got enough sleep…
I do not make New Year’s resolutions, but there are some
changes forthcoming this year. For one, it might be more accurate to call this
blog, “Thoughts From the Desk”, at least for the first couple of months. I
moved my quiet time to my office for a couple of reasons, least of which is the
early cold temperatures that hit North Texas early this year. I’m not usually
affected by the cold. I spent seventeen winters in Colorado, several of them
quite severe, but I don’t ever remember feeling this cold. It’s a
bone-chilling, wet, blustery cold that cuts through everything and numbs the
brain. I don’t need any help in that regard…
The main reason I’ve retreated to the desk is I’ve decided
to quit smoking (again). It’s coincidence rather than resolution that it’s also
the start of a new year. I’ve never had much luck at resolving to stop annoying
habits. Usually I need to have all sense of resolve and ability knocked out of
me. Desperation is a wonderful impetus for willingness. I’ve reached a new
level of willingness to quit; hopefully before the consequences are dire. It also
helps that I closed out the books on 2018 and saw how much I had spent on
tobacco. Seeing the dollar amount in black and white makes it all too real.
I’ll keep you posted. Not that it’s newsworthy as much as there’s some sense of
accountability in making a public statement.
Besides, smoking is no longer in vogue. More and more places
ban smoking. It’s not good for those around me and, to be honest, I feel like
an idiot doing it. I feel even worse when I’m driven to sneak away from my
grandkids or a dinner party just to have a cigarette. It sets a lousy example.
To continue smoking requires a lot of excuses and justification. Things like, “I
gave up all my other bad habits, so allow me one bad habit”, just don’t hold
water anymore.
So here I sit. You all may have to bear with some strange posts over the next few days. I tend to ramble and get extremely irritable when I’m “detoxing”. I know I tend to ramble anyway, but it’s especially bad during nicotine withdrawal.
I’ve stopped smoking before. I should be able to do this, right? My friend Edgar reminded me that “my problem wasn’t stopping, it was staying stopped”. I’ve encountered this situation before and found that the answer isn’t mere willpower or a lack thereof. Like those annoying habits and shortcomings of character, the power to remove them tends to lay beyond my grasp. I keep hearing Jim, my friend and mentor’s voice reminding me one more time; “Cowboy, lack of power is your dilemma.” Ask any smoker who wants to quit and hasn’t (and can’t).
If I stop there, I’m left feeling hopeless, but experience has taught me that my greatest strength lies in my greatest weakness: I can ask for help. Help comes in a variety of ways. Sometimes it’s through friends and acquaintances. Other times it comes from complete strangers. Most of the time it comes through prayer. For me, faith has proven itself time and time again as the vehicle by which some of life’s greatest dilemmas are resolved.
So here I sit at the trusty old desk that was my father’s. I’ll
stay here for the bit just to break the pattern. In doing so I might just stay
stopped. Besides, the weather folks say it’s going to be yucky outside for a
while. I’ll take all the help I can get.
I hope 2019 is absolutely amazing for each of you! As for me,
I’ll suck down another Gummi Bear and stay inside…
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