: This morning can be retitled “Thoughts From the Farm”. No matter how hard I try to “stay where my feet are” my mind keeps running ahead to Opal’s Farm. It’s another big day for the farm. Thanks to Brandon Hendrickson, the Rental Manager at Zimmerer Kubota, a tractor with a chain harrow/disc combination is to be delivered today.
This morning should be retitled “Thoughts From the Farm”. No matter how hard I try to “stay where my feet are” my mind keeps running ahead to Opal’s Farm. It’s another big day for the farm. Thanks to Brandon Hendrickson, the Rental Manager at Zimmerer Kubota, a tractor with a chain harrow/disc combination is to be delivered today.
Some of you are scratching your heads thinking, “What did he just say?”. To put in in “urban” farming language, we got a big plow. It will give us the depth we need to produce a more vigorous, healthy farm. Although we are a “no plow” farm, the field has to be turned the first time around so this is a big deal! Thank you, Brandon and Zimmerer Kubota here in Fort Worth. I’m excited that you’re a part of Opal’s Farm. Another hometown business making Fort Worth a better place!
This whole week has been a fantastic week for the farm. The White Settlement Home Depot (Store 8521) finalized their plans to become a partner with Opal’s Farm. I love Home Depot and the White Settlement store has always been my favorite; even before Margaret and I moved to White Settlement. I’m not putting down other locations, but the White Settlement store has always had a “Fort Worth, small town” feel to it. I couldn’t have been happier when they partnered with us! Watch for their work days with us. A very special ‘shout out’ to Store Manager, Natasha Neidhart and all of Team Depot for their support.
Things have started steamrolling toward our first harvest.
We are so grateful for all of supporters and volunteers. Please know how
important you are in making Opal’s Farm a success. My wife, borrowing from the book
title, always says “it takes a village” to create success. Here at the farm, we
want you to be a part of our village, to work and partner with us in serving
the city we love – Fort Worth!
Thoughts from the Porch: It’s frigging cold! I huddled over
the trusty old desk in a long-sleeved shirt, hoodie, and the space heater
turned on high as close as I can get it without burning myself. Did I ever
mention my office is the coldest room in the house?
Our home was built in the 1960s. Back then, builders in
North Texas weren’t concerned with energy efficiency and insulation. Since
Margaret and I moved in we’ve made improvements slowly as the money has come.
Rare cold days like today put a strain on the heater and thus my office is
simply damn cold. Anyway, the rant is over. On to other things…
Experience has taught me to look for the positive in every situation, albeit hard at times. It’s usually easier after the fact. I may be wrong, but I believe it was Steve Jobs who said something to the effect that “life is meant to be lived forward but can only be understood looking backward”.
There are times when our ability to believe a lie is a
positive thing. My wife has dealt with back issues and chronic pain for most of
her life. She’s had many surgeries and some post-operative infections over the
years. The doctors have often given little hope of keeping her out of a wheelchair
and are always surprised when we walk into a new appointment. Her philosophy
through out her lifetime has been “don’t tell me what I can’t do”.
Doctors base their truth on the evidence at hand. We tend to
call it an opinion rather than a truth, but it’s an opinion based on facts. The
facts indicate Margaret should not be ambulatory, but don’t tell her that. She doesn’t
believe it. She pushes through and is still, albeit with a cane, walking today.
Her refusal to accept the facts lead her to live a better life and she’s not
alone.
Whether you believe man left a garden, or the African savannah
doesn’t really matter. Either way, I can imagine those early humans sitting
around the tribal campfire after a long day of hunting and gathering. Autumn
has set in. There’s a chill in the night air. As they laugh and chat about
their day, a flight of geese heading south for the winter passes overhead.
One of the guys looks up and says, “I wish I could fly south
and get away from this winter. Maybe I can find a way to do just that”. His
other buddies crack up with laughter and tell him how goofy he is. He becomes
the object of ridicule. After all, man doesn’t have wings and can’t fly like a
bird, right?
Fast forward many centuries to the Renaissance. Leonardo Da Vinci is busy drawing a flying machine. Man is still thinking of ways to “head south for the winter”, to fly like bird. If you fast forward to a hill at Kitty Hawk in 1903 and the Wright Brothers finally the first airplane flight. Just a few decades later and we’re walking on the moon. Go figure…
Now the truth is man can’t fly. No matter how fast one runs
across the meadow flapping man-made wings, they fail miserably. I know. I tried
it, but that was back in the seventies and involved hallucinogens which is
another story all together. The fact, the truth, is that man can’t fly.
Before you deem me simple of mind take a moment to think about it. Have you ever known a man to fly? I haven’t but I have seen man create new and better airplanes and forms of flying machines. They fly; sometimes without a human pilot aboard. I know it’s all semantics, right? Still, I’m thankful old Wilbur and Orville believed in the lie that man could fly. Because of their belief in a lie, I can hope a jet for Jamaica in the winter (which I really wish I were able to do today…), soak up the sun, and take a dip in tropical waters. You see, there’s something positive in everything.
By now you’re probably asking what this has to do with “Us”
and “Them”. The truth is humans were created to live in community, to live life
together, and what’s inside each of
us is inside all of us. This sounds
so cliché, so trite, but it’s the truth. The truth is there is no “them”, there’s
just us.
My friend Edgar always said, “Show me how you act, and I’ll tell you what you believe”. If I believe the “Them” lie, I can justify all kinds of bad behavior toward others. My belief system is faulty. I believe a lie. Sometimes I think it’s easier to be a duck, but I’m not, so today I’ll try to be the best “Us” I can be and act accordingly.
What do you believe?
“Show me how you act and I’ll tell you what you believe…”
Thoughts From the Porch: The temperature is dropping like a rock and the wind is blowing harder here in North Texas. My office is in the coldest part of the house. Normally, this is a good thing. I tend to be hot when everyone else is merely comfortable. Today’s a bit different. I need to add the space heater next to my desk to my Gratitude List for the day.
It doesn’t matter whether you believe in the literal creation story or if you see it as a metaphor for the beginning of human history; the end result is the same. Man, the rational animal, can act irrationally and believe things that simply aren’t true. I’m no scientist but I’m pretty sure that we’re somewhat unique in that regard.
Dad used to tell me, “Son, if it walks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck”. Straightforward and simple, right? You see, a duck doesn’t think itself anything other than a duck. It waddles down to the pond, takes a swim to find something to eat, and quacks at the other ducks. It doesn’t bark, stalk prey, or run like a cheetah, nor does it particularly want to. It’s a duck! Anyone can see that, right?
Imagine for a moment that you’re at the duck pond, feeding
the dusks, and someone walks up and says, “look at that Canadian Snow Swan”.
You look around and all you see are a flock of Mallards fighting each other for
a piece of bread. Intrigued and thinking the stranger a bit off his duff, you
ask what he’s talking about. He points to one of the less brightly colored Mallards
and says, “see, a Canadian Snow Swan”.
Now you know better. After all, you passed high school biology.
This guy must be confused. You press him a bit more. He explains that Canadian
Snow Swans are very similar to Mallards, but not as brilliantly colored. They
tend to follow Mallard flocks as they migrate to and from, so they are often
confused for Mallards. A seed of doubt was just planted.
A few days later, you’re at the same duck pond. Someone comes up and says, “Oh, look at the Mallards”. You wisely declare that they’re not all Mallards, a couple are Canadian Snow Swans. You proudly proclaim your thorough knowledge on the subject because “they” said. It doesn’t matter who “they” are, but apparently “they” are in the know. Now you one of “them”, and everyone believes a lie.
One of the first questions I ask someone when they tell me “they say that (fill in the blank) is who “they” are. Ninety-nine percent of the time the respondent has no idea who “they” are. The internet is full of “them”, experts in falsehood who proudly proclaim their version of “Truth” and it gets repeated over and over. After all, it was on the internet so it must be true…
Now the duck hasn’t changed, nor has the fact that it’s a
duck, but we now believe it to be something else. Having proclaimed it a
Canadian Snow Swan we now defend our position with a myriad of justifications –
“plausible, but untrue” explanations of our correctness. Nobody likes being
wrong, right?
One of the disastrous consequences of false belief is an equally false superiority over everyone who doesn’t believe the way we do. “They” are different rom “us”. Religion is a prime example. Talk about “us” and “them”! History is littered with the wreckage of “us” and “them”. I’ve heard it said that man can survive without a God but he cant’ live without a devil. The devil’s in “them”.
Sometimes I wonder if we can ever get past the “us” and “them”
mentality, the tribalism, that keeps us from being simply one of God’s kids.
That’s my own personal idealism and believe me, I’ve had plenty of people tell
me I’m wrong. The good news is that I’ve met a lot of folks who share that
ideal, so there’s still hope.
I may be completely wrong in all of this. I’ve never been a
duck so I’m not sure what’s going on in those little duck heads. What I know
for sure is that I’m capable of believing lies. I haven’t cornered the market
on “truth”, so I must depend on my fellows to lead me there. Maybe that’s why God
thought community so special: so that we could learn from one another and find
our way to a better place.
Thoughts From the Porch: I had a big day planned. The operative word being “had”. One of the frustrations in farming can be the dependence on the weather, the one thing that cannot be controlled. There’s either too much rain or not enough, either an early or late frost, a brutally hot summer or a brutally cold winter. Farming is always dependent on the weather. So, it is this morning…
Still, even a day of rain can be a blessing. This week has been a bit hectic. Keyboard time has been limited to thank you notes for our ribbon cutting attendees and constant appeals for donations and sponsors. That’s the perpetual chore for most non-profit organizations. However, since I had to rearrange the schedule to fit the weather, I found the time to share some thoughts from the porch.
Waiting to leave for Opal’s Farm
The morning started with threatening skies. I greeted the day with mixed emotions. Part of me wanted it to rain. It’d be a great excuse for staying home and this has been a busy week. When the clouds finally let go of their watery loads with a resounding bang, I felt a twinge of relief. Jameson, on the other hand, did not.
For
those of you who don’t know, Jameson is the official Farm Dog for Opal’s Farm. I’m
not sure his title ever went to a board vote, but I made an executive decision
as Farm Manager that he would be our official mascot. Besides, I’m not sure I
would even know how to farm without a Farm Dog.
Jameson
came to join our little family almost three years ago. Missy, my Sheltie
companion of ten years, had passed away in March of that year and, to be
honest, I wasn’t sure I was ready to adopt a new dog (another story for another
time). She was more than simply my best friend. She was special. I can’t
explain it any better than that. Pet parents will know exactly what I’m talking
about.
One
day, almost a month after Missy died, I was at the feed store up the street from
the Humane Society of North Texas animal shelter. I was finished early for the
day and I could just stop in to look, right? I stopped in and wandered through
the kennels. I was rather proud of myself that I didn’t make an impulsive
decision, but when I got home, I had to confess to Margaret I’d opened a door
that maybe I shouldn’t have.
To
my surprise, Margaret said, “If you want to adopt a dog, then maybe you should.
Our home seems a little empty now”.
I said,
“thank you but maybe I’ll think about it some more”. I started on some chores,
but an hour later I was headed back to the shelter. I wanted to get there
before they closed. So much for taking time to think about it.
To make a long story short, in the very last kennel I inspected my heart simply melted. I left the shelter with Jameson (although we hadn’t decided on a name yet). The incredible folks at North Texas Humane Society were happy to share some of his background. He was nineteen months old and had been born at the shelter. He’d been adopted twice before and returned because of “behavior problems”. Most of his life had been spent in the shelter and the employees loved him. He had a bit of a reputation there and I took him around to say goodbye before heading home. The last thing they told me was that “he’s not a ‘cuddler’.”
Fast forward to today and I can tell you he doesn’t know he doesn’t like to cuddle. In fact, he obviously isn’t aware he’s not a lap dog (a 100+pound lapdog, mind you!). He got his name because from day one he’s been a licker. I don’t need a shower after a few minutes with him. Why not name him after my favorite liquor, Jameson’s? Licker, liquor, get it?
As
I sit here writing this, Jameson is right by my side. He’s really a ‘Momma’s
boy’, but when it thundered, Jameson found his place by my side. You see, he’s
terrified of thunder. I can’t say for sure what the root of his phobia is, but
I think it has to do with being in the shelter those many months. Living in
North Texas is pretty scary during the Spring thunderstorm season. I imagine it’s
even scarier for a young dog in a kennel by himself with a cacophony of other
dogs barking around him…
As
for behavior problems I still haven’t figured that one out. Jameson is a
typical Catahoula – fierce enough to take down a wild boar or a bear and gentle
enough to love on our grandkids. The only thing I can figure is he was waiting
on us to be his family.
That’s Jameson’s story. We’ve since been blessed with Maggie (a Catahoula-Coyote mix, or as Margaret says, a Coyotahoula) and Sadie (our pretty mixed breed – part Rottweiler and…?). They love the farm as well, but there can only be one official Farm Dog and Jameson earned that title…
One may wonder why an official Farm Dog is such a big deal. Only those who have known the love of a canine companion really ‘get it’. To say that dogs are “man’s best friend” is a gross understatement. Besides, I’m sure his spirit will make the produce grow bigger. It’s made my heart grow bigger…
It’s time for dinner!
The
day I brought Jameson home he ventured out into the backyard for the first
time. At once, he went straight to where Missy was buried and sat reverently as
if to pay his respects to my beloved friend. He sat there for quite a while, then
went to the other end of the yard to take care of dog business. One can’t tell
me that dogs lack the same spirit we all share. I want that kind of spirit
around our farm as well as our home.
So,
here’s to Jameson the Farm Dog. Feel free to stop by and visit anytime but be
prepared to cuddle!
For
those of you who don’t know, Jameson is the official Farm Dog for Opal’s Farm. I’m
not sure his title ever went to a board vote, but I made an executive decision
as Farm Manager that he would be our official mascot. Besides, I’m not sure I
would even know how to farm without a Farm Dog.
One day, almost a month after Missy died, I was at the feed store up the street from the Humane Society of North Texas animal shelter. I was finished early for the day and I could just stop in to look, right? I stopped in and wandered through the kennels. I was rather proud of myself that I didn’t make an impulsive decision, but when I got home, I had to confess to Margaret I’d opened a door thaThat’s Jameson’s story. We’ve since been blessed with Maggie (a Catahoula-Coyote mix, or as Margaret says, a Coyotahoula) and Sadie (our pretty mixed breed – part Rottweiler and…?). They love the farm as well, but there can only be one official Farm Dog and Jameson earned that title…
Thoughts from the Porch: We had another Arctic visitor yesterday. It’s the time of the year for frequent, though thankfully short-lived, visitations from our far northern neighbors. I awoke to a chill in the house. When the wind chill drops the thermometer, our heater takes a while to catch up in the morning. Jumping out of a cozy, warm bed to shut off the alarm is a bit of a shock on days like these. Such is January in North Texas…
This week was one of the few Wednesday’s
I missed my Fort Worth Development
Group meeting. Ms. Opal and I had a meeting causing a time conflict. The
good news is that I got to spend the drive time with one of my heroes for two
days in a row. That doesn’t happen often enough for me. Sometimes I just need
“Ms. Opal time”.
We were able to spend some time
together yesterday discussing business and having good conversation. I brag
about Ms. Opal only because she lives the kind of life that I hope to lead: one
full of love and service for others. It’s one of the main reasons I’m so
passionate about Opal’s Farm. It’s a reflection of the loving service of Ms.
Opal and the realization of a dream and doing something tangible for the
community.
We were speaking about the
events of Martin Luther King Day. It’s not simply a commemoration of Dr. King,
but a National Day of Service as well. She told me that, according to the Fort
Worth Star Telegram, over 800 people showed up at her small church to meet
prior to going out and serving various non-profits throughout Tarrant County.
Over 800 people giving up their day off to serve others!
Many of you know that I’m a bit
of a politics junkie. I usually spend some time on the newsfeed after my
morning quiet time. Sometimes I’m not sure why I do. It’s a long string of
cultural insanity, full of stories of human suffering, violence, and
hatefulness, particularly as it pertains to our current administration in
Washington, D.C. While it usually spurs me on to action, it’s often
overwhelming and leaves me feeling a bit hopeless. The future is bleak at
times. But…
Then I read or hear things like
800 people that gave their time to serve others. Despite all the negativity
that bombards us about society, there is an amazing amount of goodness out
there. I forget that sometimes…
It reminds me of the biblical
story of the prophet Elijah in I Kings 19. It seems that speaking the truth to a
corrupt King wasn’t a good idea, even if it was the right thing to do. In fact,
the King was so angry he put a price on Elijah’s head. Poor Elijah ran for his
life until he was hiding out in a cave, crying out to God that he was the only
good guy left in the world.
I get it. Doing the right thing
can be tiring at times and it can feel terribly lonely. Frustration keeps me
from seeing any good in the world. Fortunately, that wasn’t the end of the story
for old Elijah. You see, God answered him in a still quiet voice, assuring him
there was still a remnant of good, godly people in Israel: seven thousand to be
exact. He wasn’t alone. It just felt that way.
That isn’t the end of the story
for me, either. I guess that’s why I love my “Ms. Opal Time” so much. She
reminds me of the goodness in people. God hasn’t spoken to me in a cave (at
least not yet), but He always sends me someone like Ms. Opal. I’m not alone. I
know of at least 800 other folks working to make our little world a better
place…
gregoryjoel.com 