Category: Thoughts From the Porch

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Everyone Needs Community

gregoryjoel

It’s been a great week around these parts. My Assistant Manager, Joey, and I were in San Antonio earlier this week for the 31st Annual Texas Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association (TOFGA) Conference. We spent two days learning and sharing with other growers from all over the state. On Tuesday, I was part of a panel discussion on Agrotourism. We’d love to thank Kristin Song from Delve Experiences and the other panel members for helping us (and you, we hope) grow our agrotourism business. We are thrilled to be a TOFGA member!

The weather here has been unusually mild for Texas in February. The long-range forecasts, both from NOAA and The Old Farmers Almanac, point to a cold spell in the middle of this month and a last frost date of March 18th. I can’t wait to start getting the Spring crops in the ground. It’s been in the upper sixties and low seventies the last week. Spring Fever firmly has me in its grip. Still, it is February in North Texas…

This has been a week about community. We had our annual membership meeting of the Cowtown Farmers Market yesterday after the market. One of the questions put to all the members was, why do you sell at Cowton Farmers Market. My reason was clear – it’s all about community.

I spent the first part of the week at the TOFGA Conference. This was my fifth one and I’ve come to know people from all over the state of Texas. I look forward to being with them every year. I often learn more from the conversations outside the meeting rooms and that makes the conference expense more than simply worthwhile. It’s a community of farmers and food justice advocates I am so blessed to be a part of.

Cowtown Farmers Market is the same – both with the farmers and with our customers. A member of the market – another farmer – made a comment yesterday that explains the ethos at Cowtown Farmers Market. He said, “I don’t view anyone else there as competition”. This same member I’ve often seen help, or even sell, for another member farmer when they were sick or needed to be off.

We don’t operate from a paradigm of scarcity. We don’t need to stress and fracture relationships through constant competition. Farmers constantly refer customers to other customers who might have something they don’t have. I have benefitted from the wisdom many of our experienced farmers shared so freely. I’ve become a better farmer and a better person by knowing them.

I’ve also come to know many of our customers because they are there every week (and they usually tell me when they’re not going to be there for whatever reason).They’re there in the cold winter and they’re there during the heat of a Texas summer. I come to know what’s going on in their lives, their likes and dislikes, and they mine. Genuine conversations start – what’d you do this week, how’s the family, or asking about something they’d told me about a few weeks ago. There’s a continuity and a sense of community you simply will never find at your local Kroger or Albertsons.

I’d love to see you all come out to the market on Saturday mornings. Come join our wonderful community. Enjoy great people, great fun, and great food! If you can’t make it there, please come out to our new farm stand at 2500 LaSalle and be a part of the neighborhood community we’re proud to be a part of. Don’t worry. The community can never be too big, and besides, there’s always room for one more farmers market, right?

Children, Community, Dogs, Down On the Farm, Events, Family, Grandchildren, History, Hope, Recovery, Rodeos, Storytelling, Texas, Thoughts From the Porch

Birthdays and Fat Livestock

gregoryjoel

The 16th would’ve been Dad’s 99th birthday. I’ve been thinking of him a lot this week. I always think about his words of wisdom and his love for his family, but January 16th is extra special. For the last ten or fifteen years of his life he worked with his friend Jesse at the Fort Worth Stock Show & Rodeo every year. It was an annual tradition that always kept us from celebrating his birthday until the second week of February.

Starting a week before the show opened, he would work twelve-hour days until the show was over by the second week of February. I couldn’t understand why he would work so much for close to minimum wage without a day off. That is, until I spent part of the day with him.

There are a couple of things you need to know about the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo. First, it’s the oldest continuously running stock show in the United States. The formal name is the Southwest Exposition and Stock Show. It had its humble beginnings in 1896 to show the local citizens the livestock local cattlemen produced. Its stated aim was primarily educational and soon became an annual event. In 1907, the Stock Show charged admission for the first time – twenty-five cents – and in 1908 moved into the palatial Northside Coliseum in the Fort Worth Stockyards. Rodeos are still held there today on a weekly basis with kids admitted free or half-price making a fun family event.

In 1918, the first “World’s Original Indoor Rodeo” was held as a “strictly a contest” and the name “Southwest Exposition and Fat Stock Show” became the official event name. The only time the event has been cancelled was in 1943 when all America’s resources went to the war effort. In 1944 the stock show was moved to the Will Rogers Coliseum built for the Texas Centennial in 1936 where the stock show has remained (with massive infrastructure improvements) to this day. The Rodeo competition has been moved to the new Dickies Arena on the Stock Show grounds.

The year I was born, 1958, was the first year the event was televised. I don’t remember the first time my dad took me to the Stock Show and Rodeo, but it became an annual event for my dad and I. My grandmother worked as a seamstress for Mr. Wimberly, who owned the Army Store, a surplus store in downtown Fort Worth. Mr. Wimberly saw to it that we received tickets every year. He also raised, and showed, champion Appaloosa horses. Rustler Bill was a National Champion and I got to “ride” him every year. That is, I got to sit on him while Mr. Wimberly walked me through the stables. It was a young cowboy’s dream!

My childhood memories are sparse, but I always remember the Stock Show and Rodeo. The first memory was of Zippy the monkey and his Scottish Sheepdog. Zippy would ride around the arena at full speed and then stop and herd sheep. How could anyone forget a monkey cowboy?

from the FWSSR Archives

In 1969, my dad was transferred to Denver, Colorado. We tried attending the Denver National Western Stock Show, but it just wasn’t the same. We went three or four times to no avail and soon, I never went again.

Fast forward to 1986 when I moved home to Fort Worth. I was going through a divorce and had custody of my two boys, Adrian and Jeremy. My dad must have known a cure for the break-up blues because a month after we moved back our annual trips to the Stock Show began again. This time it was to establish a tradition for the boys.

My father had started working the Stock Show every year with his lifetime friend Jesse. The boys and I would walk to his little shed by the gate, talk with Dad and Jesse, and walk through the livestock barns and exhibit halls. Because the vendors used Dad’s gate, we got a lot of free food for the three-week run of the show. I’ve never had so much pizza, barbeque, and Mrs. Baird’s pastries in my life. The boys loved it. Dad would keep them supplied in sweets every Saturday for the rest of the year, at least until Jeremy told my mom about the “diet” ice cream they ate. The tradition lived on until the boys got older and my addiction kept me away from the things I always loved.

The boys went their separate ways. Jeremy became a respected artist and wasn’t much interested in the old, Fort Worth tradition. Adrian must’ve received more of the cowboy DNA because he trained cutting horses and worked a ranch for several years. Today he serves the veteran community with One Tribe Foundation.

I don’t know how many years Dad worked those four weeks in the winter each year. He and Jesse both decided to retire when they both encountered some health issues. It wasn’t long before Dad passed. I didn’t get clean and into recovery until a couple of years later. If I had not had a father that loved me like Dad, I’m not sure I would’ve even gotten clean. If Dad, a mere human could radiate love and grace as he did, how much more so could a loving God.

I tried to continue the tradition with my grandkids, but it’s been sporadic at best. They’re just not into it. I guess wanting to be a cowboy isn’t in the aspirations of their generation. Why would they? There are no John Waynes anymore, tractors aren’t sexy, and ranching (and farming) seem to be an old people thing. The average age for a farmer in Texas is sixty-two. I tell everyone I’m finally above average at something.

I attend the Stock Show and Rodeo today to honor Dad and carry on an old Fort Worth tradition. I think of him while I’m there and remember so many wonderful things from long ago. I don’t go every year – the farm and weather change my plans more than they used to. Plus, crowds are getting harder to deal with as I’ve gotten older. Quite frankly, the crowds aren’t the same. Stock show attendance reaches record crowds almost every year. A lot of folks have moved to Fort Worth over the last few years, and they don’t always feel the tradition like native Fort Worthians do.

I also love to go with Ms. Opal to the Cowboys of Color Rodeo. In 2001, Jim Austin founded the National Multicultural Western Heritage Museum in the historic stockyards. In 2010, Fort Worth finally got around to honoring and recognizing the rich heritage of the Black and Brown community to both the city and the West by holding the first Cowboys of Color Rodeo. Ms. Opal has shared a history of Fort Worth I was never taught in my all-white schools. I’m thrilled to learn a history so rich that I might’ve missed had it not been for my work with her and Unity Unlimited. Inc. I hope to share the same with others. Full history brings us to reconciliation and justice.

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Burrrr…

gregoryjoel

The scene beyond my window is rather drab. A blast of cold Arctic air exploded across North Texas yesterday afternoon. It brought with it the cutting icy North wind that plagues the Southern plains every winter. The “feels like” temperatures this morning were in the single digits and they’re predicting eighty-plus hours below freezing and sleet for this evening. Folks in these parts are understandably nervous. Ice brings out the worst in Texas drivers and the memory of Winter Storm Uri in 2021 is still fresh to anyone who lived here then. The power grid crashed, Texans went for days without power and water, and 246 people died from storm-related issues.

Last year saw a major ice storm at the end of January. We were at the Texas Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association Conference in Dallas and left early because of the roads. One of our employees ended up staying at the motel that night. One night turned into a week. Texans do not do well in cold weather. It doesn’t storm often but when it does look out!

Fortunately, we’ve had ample time to prepare for this Arctic visitor. Store shelves are empty of non-perishables and bottled water. Gas tanks are full and homes lucky enough to have a generator are standing by. People take the weather forecast a bit more seriously since the winter of ’21.

( Opal’s Farm and the frozen Trinity River February 2021 )

Personally, I haven’t had much time to prepare our house. I still must make a run to Home Depot. My neighbor said they had some outdoor faucet covers hidden in the back of the store. Information like that is like finding gold. We try to take care of each other in our neighborhood. I have, however, taken steps to prepare Opal’s Farm the best we can to save our winter crops. Frost cloth has been double-spread on the bio-intensive section and several of the hundred-foot rows. Prayers have been said, fingers have been crossed, and if I had a rabbit’s foot, I’m sure I’d be holding it close. We’ll keep you posted…

On a lighter, and somewhat warmer note (it was cool but warmer yesterday), we moved Opal’s Farm Stand hours to Saturday afternoons from 1:30 PM to 4:00 PM. We found his to be more convenient for our neighbors and the traffic on Sylvania isn’t rushing between jobs. We had several customers yesterday afternoon. This complements our mornings at Cowtown Farmers Market and our delivery for Hao’s Grocery and Café. We can harvest once a week to bring quality fresh produce to our community.

Anyway…

My fur-babies don’t seem to be bothered by the single-digit temperatures. They are out running around and playing as I sit here. Sitting here watching them got me to thinking about this blog. I’ve always called it “Thoughts From the Porch” because that was the place my thoughts and coffee ran freely since this journey began. I no longer spend my mornings on the front porch. It’s not because it’s cold. When you smoke it really doesn’t matter if it’s the summer Texas heat or the winter freeze, you’re driven to suffer outside.

However, that changed on November 1st of last year. That’s the day I quit smoking. I’ve been cigarette-less since then. The cravings have become less severe most of the time. The operative word being “most”. Other days – not so much. Staying off the porch has been a good move so here I sit. I still get a good view of the world through the patio door next to my office. It’s a constant reminder of God’s goodness and grace in our lives.

Maybe it’s time to find another name for this? Let me know your thoughts!

Please stay warm and safe through this cold snap. Stay inside, make it a family day or a day of introspection. Enjoy the time and pray the lights don’t go out…

Belief, Communication, Creation, Dogs, Faith, Gratitude, Grief, Love, Opal's Farm, Pets, Relationships, Rescue Animals, Spirituality, Stories, Thoughts From the Porch

Dr. Doolittle Kind of Stuff

gregoryjoel

We opened our first farmstand of the year at Opal’s Farm on Friday. We anticipated a slow day as it takes time for folks to realize we’re there. True to form, it was a very slow day. A couple of people stopped to ask if we’d be there after work. We’re discovering that the time may not be good for the neighborhood so we will most likely change to Saturday afternoons. We’ll keep everyone in the loop as we discuss those changes this week.

For most of the first couple of hours a small black Corgi-mix and a Chihuahua walked up and down the yards across the street. Stacey, our Volunteer Coordinator, and I were talking to a couple of friends who’d stopped to visit buy some fresh produce and tour the farm. One of our visitors had brought her new dog and her dog caught the attention of the two across the street and they began to venture across Sylvania.

Sylvania is a busy street with traffic that tends to go faster than the thirty-five-miles-per hour-speed limit. We all watched in alarm as they tried to come across the street to make a new friend. They managed to dodge the first round of cars and went back to their side of the street until there was a pause in the traffic. When they tried again a single Lexas SUV came flying down the road. The little black dog escaped safely. The little Chihuahua did not. I don’t wish to be graphic but some of us saw the accident and all four of us heard the loud crunch as the Lexus hit the Chihuahua. It was quite upsetting to a group of dog lovers – especially when the Lexus continued at full-speed down the road, never stopping to check on the dog.

The little black dog walked back out on the street to check on his friend. I ran over to see if his buddy was still alive. Fortunately, it wasn’t. The hit has been loud and fast. Most likely the poor Chihuahua was dead on impact. It was a small comfort to my friends who were crying.

I gently took the body and laid it on the grass. The small black Corgi-mix came over to his friend and sat by the body. He periodically would head a short way in the direction they had originally come from, but always stopped and looked to see if his running buddy was coming and returned to his friend. This went on for about an hour before he headed off to his home around the corner. I followed him to see if I could find the owner. I found his house but not the Chihuahua’s.

I debated telling this story because of its graphic nature. It was upsetting to watch. I’m a dog guy. I have four of them and I love them dearly. My kids and grandkids are out of the house. Jamison, Sadie, Ricky, and Lucy are like our kids. They’re family and, to many of our friends’ chagrin, they are treated as such. I know I’m not alone in this. Just see how many billions of dollars the pet care industry makes per year.

Yet in watching the little black Corgi-mix’s concern (and what I believe was grief) I became acutely aware of our connection to other living beings in our world. I know the human tendency to anthropomorphize our furry (and not so furry) friends. I’m sure that there are many examples that may support this. Science debunks many of the things we attribute to human-like behaviors and emotions in the animal kingdom. It thinks of them as having simply natural, instinctive behaviors. However, they can’t measure or even observe the spiritual connections that are prevalent in the animal kingdom.

I’ve always been taught that language is what differentiated homo sapiens from the rest of the animal kingdom. Recent scientific studies have revealed that the same gene that helps enable language in humans is present in many birds, reptiles, and mice. Studies have shown that other species have the ability to learn new ways to communicate amongst themselves. Language isn’t unique the human beings after all.

Many humans have known this all along on a much deeper spiritual level. Some ancient theological text, such as the books that weren’t canonized into the Hebrew or Christian Bibles, like the books of Enoch, refer to a time when all created beings shared the same language and communication. Indigenous cultures around the world respect the connection between the natural world and humans. They act accordingly and treat creation with care. Saint Francis of Assisi, the founder of the Franciscan order, talked about Brother Sun and Sister Moon – that all created beings are part of one family and should be treated and respected as such. Ask any pet owner if their pet communicates with them. The answer is a resounding yes!

I don’t pretend to be a scientist so whatever I think is simply my personal belief and experience. I would like to think that my dogs are spiritual guides of a sort. It’s no wonder that “dog” is “God spelled backwards. They are loved and give love unconditionally. They experience grief and loss and can tell when I am going through the same. When Missy, my Sheltie passed we buried her in the backyard and placed a stone marker on her grave. Several weeks later, Jamison came to live with us (all our dogs are rescues) and when he went into our backyard for the first time, he walked to Missy’s grave and sat down very respectfully. I’d like to think he honored her and promised her to take care of Margaret and I – which he’s done extremely well.

All four of our fur-babies know when something is going on with us and often respond accordingly. As I sit here working at the computer, Ricky and Lucy are outside playing. Periodically, Ricky comes running in, noses my arm, and checks on me. I love on him for a minute and off he runs out the door to play with his sister.

I see this kind of behavior with other animals as well. We have had a farm hawk for the last couple of years – Ethan – yes, Ethan Hawk. Ethan would follow me through the field as I cleared it each season for new planting. I would chase field mice as I cleared the field and Ethan would gobble up as quickly as he could. He’d stand next to me while doing so. He’d often sit on the bucket of my tractor and “talk” to me.

We loved having Ethan around. He was a magnificent Cooper’s Hawk. We knew that he and his mate – who was usually close by – would leave for a couple of months each summer and come back in the Fall. He and his mate didn’t return this year. We wondered if he was okay and were worried about him. Although he didn’t return, a young Cooper’s Hawk did. He came down and sat on the tractor the other day. I could swear he was Ethan Jr. and tried to let me know. He then flew to Ethan’s tree where he appears to have a nest now. The tradition continues…

I don’t discount science in any way. It explains so much and helps me be a better farmer. However, I intend to continue believing that Spirit is what connects us to each other and to the whole of God’s creation. I’ll continue to treat the natural world as family and do my best to love, nurture, and protect it. After all, isn’t that what we do for family…