It’s a fantastic late winter/early spring (depending on whether you use the meteorological or the Spring Equinox calendar) day here in North Texas. I’m still reeling from the time change to Daylight Savings. It always gets me no matter how hard I try to plan for it. I’m just tired and don’t want to do much of anything so here I sit on this beautiful afternoon, drinking coffee, and feeling somewhat guilty I’m not out at the farm. Not yet anyway…
I took time to read a bit and catch a couple of lectures in my schoolwork. One of the articles I read was by one of my favorite authors and bloggers, John Pavlovitz. You can find him at https://johnpavlovitz.com/ I got turned on to him several years ago and when he started a social media network for people who still give a damn about things like empathy, compassion, and loving our neighbor I jumped to join. It’s a wonderful community of like-minded but unique individuals who come together to share about politics, organized religion, racial justice, activism and social justice, among many other things.
It gives me hope that people are still committed to loving our neighbors and the common good. That’s in short supply these days if you listen to the media and the extremists who tend to be much louder than most folks, that is. I choose to believe that most people aren’t filled with so much hate and vitriol as the far-right, the White Christian Nationalists, or the radical left for that matter. The media eats it up though. Extremism sells…
I would highly recommend John’s work to any of my fellows who believe the God is love, the Good News is just that, – Good News – and want to follow some good direction on just being a decent person. Love you guys!
It’s rained about 4 inches in the last two days with more to come. I gratefully sat down to write this morning. It seems like it’s been far too busy to do so given our unseasonably warm winter. The winter crops don’t know what to do – some have even bolted (gone to seed) – and the Spring crops are beginning to poke their heads out of the soil. It’s too muddy to work today so I get to sit back in my office and spend some quality time by myself. My playlist is going, the coffee’s hot, and I have all four dogs curled up around my feet. I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.
My playlist this morning is mostly Texas country. A Matt Hillyer song, “If These Old Bones Could Talk”, came on and I thought about the old box of dominoes in my drawer. It was a gift from my father – a box of old “bones” white with black pips and embossed with the green logo of Burlington Northern Railroad – a gift from the Burlington Northern Veterans Club (long before BNSF). The white marble-like dominoes are slightly discolored from years of body oils they’ve absorbed from years of shuffling and playing. It’s one of the few things I’ve managed to hang on to despite the chaos of active addiction that plagued me for so long.
Dad’s been gone since 2002 and I got clean and sober in 2005. The old box of bones is one of the few constants in my life – one that has seen the best of days and the worst of days. I’ve really been thinking about Dad this morning. I wish he could have lived to see me today. My wife reminds me that he does see me. I get it. It’s not the same though. I miss him. It’s my earthly father’s love that taught me how much my heavenly Father loves me. But I digress…
My dad was a railroad man. He worked for the old Fort Worth & Denver Railroad, which was owned by the Colorado & Southern Railroad was in turn, owned by the old Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad. Long before the merger with the Santa Fe Railroad – the SF in BNSF – was a merger with the Burlington Route and the Great Northern Railroad (among others) in 1970. My father could tell you the complete history and even had pictures of the old Fort Worth & Denver and Burlington Route trains as they moved through the train yards and stations. He took “early” retirement in 1981 at age fifty-seven and forty years of service. For many years afterwards he and mom attended the various BN Veterans dinners. Railroading is a different way of life – a subculture difficult to explain to outsiders. The railroad is family.
Our other family was the Church of Christ, a non-denominational body that has churches all through the state. That’s where the dominoes come in. First of all, please understand that dominoes, specifically the game of “Forty-Two”, is the state game of Texas (by a law passed in 2011). They even have a State Championship played in Halletsville, Texas every year. Texans, especially in protestant religious organizations like the Church of Christ and old railroaders take dominoes seriously.
Our family has deep roots within the Church of Christ. My great- great-grandfather was a travelling circuit preacher. My great-grandfather was a farmer and helped build the church in Navarro and Ellis counties. My parents and the majority of their friends were members of the Church of Christ and most of them grew up together. Since they were good church folks none of them played cards. That was the devil’s game. I’m told that dominoes were invented in the 1880s as a way to play cards without cards. Good fundamentalist Christians are good at finding loopholes to what they deem poor moral behavior…
My parents and all their friends would get together every month to have a “Forty-Two” night. It would always be held at someone’s house (never play games in the church building) and would include a huge potluck. Everyone would come, multiple tables would be set up, and parents would break off into tables of four to play. Kids would be running all over the yard (we still played outside – even after dark – back them). During the occasional game break one or more of the parents would come out to check on us and then return to the next game. They’d play all night – at least ten o’clock – and us kids got to stay up late. It was a win-win for everyone.
Dominoes disappeared after my dad was transferred to Denver (when the Colorado & Southern bought the Fort Worth & Denver ) – that is until they discovered a host of ex-patriate Texans and Church of Christ folks who became their new circle of friends. They got together religiously (no pun intended) on most holidays and Friday nights to play “Forty-Two”. The location changed but the game remained the same.
I had become a teenager with better things to do than hang out with the “old folks” playing dominoes. I probably should’ve have stayed. It might’ve prevented a lot of bad choices. I never learned how to play “Forty-Two” and the kids I met in Colorado weren’t much interested in “shaking the bones”. It was the seventies and as I got older life became about sex, and drugs, and rock & roll, but that’s a story for another time.
Fast forward to my return to Texas as a young adult. I played a lot of dominoes down in the ‘hood with my using friends. It was never “Forty-Two”, but it was “straight” dominoes. Later, my recovery friends often played after recovery meetings, and I would play with my two sons occasionally (Jeremy always found a way to win but I never caught him cheating…).
I don’t play dominoes as much as I used to. Life has gotten full of good things, but it leaves me little time for the game. Besides, many of my old friends who played have either moved off or passed on. I’m sure my grandkids know how to play and next week is Spring Break. I think I’ll shuffle the old bones and see how well Jeremy taught them how to play. After all, the game remains the same.
A huge thank you needs to go out to all the folks that came out to Cowtown Farmers Market yesterday. The weather was outstanding and it was so good to see so many of our old friends who stayed home over the winter. We had new vendors and some returning old ones. The Black Rooster Bakery sat up right next to us after their winter leave. I’m not sure it was such a great thing on my budget though. Joey and I certainly didn’t go hungry yesterday…
Speaking of not going hungry – Brushy Creek Farms has returned to Cowtown after a winter break and more of our produce vendors will be coming back as Spring moves forward. If we don’t have what you’re looking for then one of our other farms should be able to help you out.
We’ve had an exciting week at Opal’s Farm. Our BCS tractor is back from its Spring servicing at Homestead Equipment down by Waco. They are the only BCS dealership in Texas but well worth any drive you may have if you’re purchasing new equipment or servicing old ones. We’d love to say a heartfelt thank you as we were able to finish our tomato beds and start on the rest of the Spring crop beds.
We also had a special visitor this week. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a Bald Eagle at the farm. When he first flew by, I thought it was one of the Turkey Vultures we see daily. When he got closer, I realized what I was seeing. He was a majestic sight as he flew to perch on the giant utility pole at the south end of the farm. I tried to get a good picture but honestly, I’m not much of a photographer and I couldn’t get the light right. What you see is what you get unfortunately. I tried later when he was by the river, but he took off before I could capture a good image. I hope he finds us a good space to hunt at Opal’s Farm. We’d love to have him back.
We’d also love to give a shout out to all our volunteers returning after a long winter! The warm days we’ve experienced have brought some our old friends out and more are coming. We hope you can come enjoy Spring planting with us.
I get to see the gorgeous weather outside my office window, but I’m reminded that it’s only March 3rd. North Texas weather has a way of fooling everyone into a false sense of “Spring Fever”. The last frost date is supposed to be March 18th so maybe, just maybe, Spring is setting in…
This past Wednesday, Ash Wednesday, marked the start of Lent. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, “Lent. noun. ˈlent. : a period of fasting and regret for one’s sins that is observed on the 40 weekdays from Ash Wednesday to Easter by many churches.” It’s a time when Christians are to focus on the Three Pillars of Lent: prayer, fasting, and “almsgiving” – which can best be summed up as compassion. Great things for believers but I grew up in one of the churches that didn’t celebrate Lent, or anything else on the church liturgical calendar for that matter.
When I was exposed to other folks that participated in Lent, I had to look it up to find out what it was. It sounded kind of trite to me. You know, give something up for forty days. That was no big deal. Anyone could do that. Besides, we don’t celebrate those things that aren’t mentioned in the Bible, right?
It wasn’t until I was in college that I began to broaden my theological (and socio-political) horizons. I’m told that rebellion (which is one of the few things I excelled at) was essential for turning one’s religious values from those of one’s parents into one’s that are personal. It was a rather lengthy process for me – forty-nine years and counting – to come to very real, very deep understanding of my relationship to God and my fellows – to make my faith my own.
I no longer attend church regularly. When I do (which is quite infrequently) it’s usually somewhere I’ve been asked to go with friends or the A.M.E. church Ms. Opal attends. I’ve come to believe that my real church lives in recovery rooms, many places of worship, and in nature, especially the farm. It’s where I can get centered and act compassionately on a daily basis – serving others and the common good. That’s what Jesus meant by loving God and loving your neighbor as yourself.
Though I don’t attend regularly I’ve come to celebrate the liturgical calendar far more than I ever did. I celebrate Advent, Christmas, Easter, and an awareness of others, but honestly, I’ve never got the Lent thing down. Those three pillars they talk about are things I try to incorporate into my daily life (well, not so much the fasting…). However, I do read Lenten devotionals to start my day during this time. I read one recently that gave me a new perspective on Lent.
It was a sermon by one of my favorite authors and pastors, Diane Butler Bass. She talked about “practicing the cross”. Practicing the resurrection is what Easter’s always meant to me, but practicing the cross – living prayer, fasting, and compassion – was the way of Jesus on his journey to the crucifixion. “Practicing” was a way of becoming more centered, more loving, and more like the Rabbi I try to follow.
I can get with that, and forty days of intense practice makes it more likely I can become more of the human being I want to be.
“By practicing our faith, we actually become all the things we promise to be in our baptism vows, we become citizens of the Kingdom of God, the radical followers who embody the beloved community that Jesus proclaimed.” – Diane Butler Bass
This year, Lent takes on a new meaning for me, starting with Ash Wednesday – a reminder that I too, will return to the ashes and dust God made this human body out of. It reminds me that the values I practice through daily prayer and meditation will translate to right action that has positive effects on the world I presently walk in. It also reminds me that I haven’t reached a goal, an end point. I still need to practice, and I will make a lot of mistakes. Then I just practice some more…
“When you practice some kind of appetite-denying discipline to better concentrate on God, don’t make a production out of it. It might turn you into a small-time celebrity, but it won’t make you a saint. If you “go into training” inwardly, act normal outwardly. Shampoo and comb your hair, brush your teeth, wash your face. God doesn’t require attention-getting devices. He won’t overlook what you’re doing; he’ll reward you well. Don’t hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or – even worse – stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasures in heaven, where it’s safe from moths and rust and burglars. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being there.” Matthew 6:16-21 (The Message)
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?
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