Rearview Mirror, Same Driver.

 Here is an older article of mine which i have resurrected from a blog on the web.Posted in Dec 2007 on lamarguerite.

  So much has changed Casey's has moved uphill, friends moved to country, cars sold, children graduated or married..much of life used and re-purposed, so here is one blog post reused for comparison..

Thought Soup, an Environmental BlogAct by Nadine Sellers

 December 3, 2007 by lamarguerite

One day, Nadine surfaced in my blogging existence, and graced my blog with one of the most poetic comments I have ever come across. That was a few months ago. Since then, I have had the privilege of discovering her oh so inspiring poems and thought provoking pieces of prose. Nadine Sellers is a French writer… an observer of nature and mankind, a healer by profession, a teacher by avocation. After years in the desert West she is now living the writer’s perennial hope, sculpting a novel out of empiric survival and adventure. As she settles in the plains of the American Midwest, Nadine is in the process of crystallizing a lifelong passion for living, into an artful translation of ecological concern. Nadine brings science and literature into a blend of experimental exposé. You may find this fledgling project in Greenadine, verdigrass, her new blog, the inspiration for which arose from perusing green blogs and finding La Marguerite. just like that! out of the –green.

Six centuries BC. Lao Tsu wrote a set of basic principles which would simplify the relationship of man and nature. Succeeding philosophies have led us to an environmental impasse. Each moral cycle has spiraled mankind into poorly applied reasoning, and so man has lost his equilibrium. It will take good will and a lot of resolve to restore balance. Science has met with resistance ever since duality fostered a climate of rebellion in the mind of men.

” Knowing ignorance is strength, ignoring knowledge is sickness” from the Tao Te Ching.

As a lifelong amateur naturalist, i have found myself submerged by mounting evidence dooming personal efforts to irrelevancy. But wait! Before i drown in a nihilistic ocean of self pity, do allow me time to shake myself from defeatist complacency. The very nature which seeds doubt in mind, also offers enough resilience to adapt to changing conditions. As data streams in faster than laymen can fathom, the rest of us find the vestiges of old instincts kicking in under more than a century of industrial indoctrination.

Wherever i live, i seem to meet inveterate negaholics who refuse to admit there may be a causal factor to climate change. I have not confronted them publicly, but have met them within the ranks of family or friends. They question my way of life, very generously commenting on my apparent miserliness; Why do you save this? Just throw it out, nobody cares. Why bother, you’ll be dead before it becomes a problem. The list stretches beyond comprehension. So i use the wall strategy: when confronted, walk slowly around the bricks, actions speak louder than arguments. And then i write.

Resistance to change seems to drag the efforts of many a socio-economic level to adjust their consumption patterns. According to incoming scientific data, It appears to stem from an aversion to authority. The teacher, the preacher, the tax collector, and now some stranger wants them to give up the Trans-Am in the back-yard, and quit using the dual wheel monster truck to go to get a pack of cigarettes at the corner store? Clearly a clash of cultures here.

I live in the Midwest and yesterday, i saw the first cloth bag prominently displayed at the grocery store: “paper or plastic? Neither” boasted the printed logo. And i knew this tiny town had heard the drummer of the future. Of course the resident Amish culture slows the competitive edge of progress, and i appreciate it. Respect for the horse drawn carriage on the highway teaches necessary patience. Simplicity and conservatism can be useful attributes in the conflict of man versus Gia.

There is a symbiotic relationship between spenders and savers in this, our biosphere. The insurmountable pile of evidence which dooms our puny efforts, also gives rise to new hope. In the most mundane of gestures you will find tiny treasures of personal pride. I write this first draft with a plastic pen, the logo claims “fire and water damage clean-up”, how relevant. The paper which i use to scratch out my outlines on, results from an apparent leak in the marketing strategies of junk-mail zealots. Any blank space is an invitation to real use, then the paper kindles my fire, added BTU for hearth and home. No waste in this household. I don’t play games with my conscience, no carbon trade-off mentality, not even a shade of humor in my staunch resolve to optimize the use of every resource available to me.

It is a game; a challenge to my imagination. I must find just one more way to use and re-use each product for which i am essentially grateful. Of course in the trial and error field of empiric savings, there have been casualties. Just yesterday, my innovative soupe-du-jour turned out so blahh, i had to prematurely commit it to the compost pile, much to my palate’s dismay. What a waste of a perfectly good Halloween pumpkin! It was the last stringy crop of turnips that ruined it all.

Out here in the back room of convenience, i ride the comfort zone. Bicycles parked in the garage for winter. Gas heater plugged in as nocturnal back-up to the fireplace. Electric appliances at the ready, though manual versions preferred. I console myself with the fact that the town council has voted for the installation of a wind farm upon the hill. How romantic, they’re going to grow some wind; i like local utilities, i prefer the ones which make responsible choices to produce energy from sustainable sources. And let me tell you, the winds around the prairie states are indeed sustained.

Entrenched in semi solid autonomy, i view governmental leadership as entertaining rather than worthy of worship. It saddens me to watch the mainstream throng catering to corporate idealism. When elected officials downplay irrefutable research and steer their constituency toward run away consumerism, i find my easy chair much too confining. If ecological concerns are relegated to dishonorable status beneath the lofty goals of economic growth, we could destroy entire biomes across the planet. We have. We continue to do so.

Readers, take heed from the Indonesian Government; a communique from Jakarta informs us that the Bali summit which is to begin Monday Dec. 3rd will be taking measures to save tons of carbon emissions. I can envision 190 international ministers and assorted staffs commuting by bicycle between meetings and workshops. The whole motley group followed by as many journalists and servants. All are cautioned to wear light clothing and short sleeves. Representatives of the United Nations Climate Change Consortium should not mind applying their own advice.

From this green segment of the map, i wish to extend a sense of communal spirit. I derive existential satisfaction from exchanging experience, be it mundane or universal. May the current steer us away from blind consumption, and toward true appreciation of our nature. I do believe it is in the acquired taste of a simple glass of water. Drink up to the new greens and the old ones too!.

02-2015

House sold, new one restored, old garden mowed, new one inspired, old car to new owner, old Casey to parking lot, the horse and buggy remain valid, one more birthday and the wind still blows in Albany!

An Omelet in my Pocket

I baby-sit chickens, OK, I chicken-sit, no, I chicken-care. Guess there are no precise terms for the vigilant feeding of fowl. So, here I was last night, all hens in the coop-condo and time enough to check the self-feeder and water-warmer. I placed a rock across the critter lane under the wall to block passage to the nightly convenience store that was kitty-corner to the roosting perch, just within reach of leaping rodents and flying squirrels.

Doors and gates duly locked, I scanned the horizon, no traffic in town this frosty night. Then I saw a red fox coming up from the creek three blocks down. Tail held straight behind his long body, the magnificent animal did not break stride as he walked up the street. His pelt would have been a trapper’s prize. His image could have graced nature magazines. I was busy making memories to soothe the savage within.

Then he spotted me, nose to breeze, eye alert to human, he listened for far away vehicles. Resuming his rhythm, with thin legs limber under floating shape, he peered both ways before crossing the highway. His white cheeks disappeared into long black stripes along his imperturbable snout. The bright tip flashed behind his fluffy dark tail. I remained transfixed for the privilege of meeting this handsome specimen of local fauna.

After starring into the anonymous darkness of the woods, I remembered the solitary night calls of a yipping fox chasing lawn rabbits. A smile crept along my lips under the woolen scarf. I crossed the ‘fox’ highway, looking both ways, of course. Reached into my pocket and found a viscous mess. three casualties of haste must have been smashed while attending to chores. Sticky yolks, snotty whites and sharp eggshells met bare fingers. This would surely enrich the composter.

I felt content enough to let the sight of a free animal guide me between the day and the omelet in my pocket.

If it' s April, Must be Water Month!

If it's April, must be Water Month!

Every few minutes, I turn the spigot on, to wash hands, scrub vegetables, rinse rags or brush my shoes. Then I fill the bathtub, schedule a full load in the machine, easy come, easy waste! No, this is the house of waste not, by choice or by conscience, every drop still counts. Tub water will be bucketed out and metted among thirsty individual plants in the garden, dish water will nourish daylillies and apple trees. To each a purpose and a re-purpose. I carry with me ancestral habits and pride.

For my own primary family in the city, water was an economic necessity measured in francs. Every jet from the one kitchen spigot was accounted and regulated by the finance expert known as “mother”; that was where I learned to soak and boil laundry, turn off water between vigorous tooth brushing or face washing. Every basin's worth of precious liquid rendered its weight upon my conscience or more precisely my fear of accountability in the parental eye .

The rural perspective of water presented me with a more pleasant alternative, it was easier to measure the cost of water by its actual weight in the bucket and its physical exertion ratio as I had to pump the stuff from a rotary iron wheel made for men to fill a large container above. The water would then flow trough a two and a half foot limestone wall by way of a thick metal pipe. Water was cold, straight from an underground stream, a well of endless possibility, virtual treasure. Gratis too.

I fondly recollect feeding and watering of grandmother's animals with the free liquid, a large iron mouth would pour through the cemented ditch, a modern invention of my uncle's, it would run down to the lower echelons of the barnyard, all the way to the pig sty, i' d beat the chickens to the pooling pond, a frenzy of fur and feathers, dog, cats and assorted fowl, honking, and cackling about me. What glorious relief these chores were from whatever misery weather had wrought upon us that day. I would carry a bucket and a ladle to allocate some to each of three hundred very thirsty rabbits as well.

At day's end, I would bring sheep home to the barns and fill their troughs. It was my duty to make sure that the cows had functioning watering plates, to the right of each stall where the cattle were chained, I pressed the iron plate to watch the water fill the bowl. Then let the animal slurp to see if it refilled automatically. This was another invention of note..the self waterer, I was elated not to have to carry the water in the stables.

Another endearing sign of progress was the outdoor shower my uncle had designed, a rudimentary shed with no roof, a large iron kettle atop, secured by great beams, the water was hot by afternoon, too hot for me. It poured on command through some complex device which I had to yank; if too hot, I ran out with clothes still on, added some cool water with hose and tried again before disrobing. Making sure the neighborhood boys were far away was the hard part, and unwelcome distraction.

Creeks and sloughs were of equally free spirited benefit, I waded in the luxury, splashed and careened through sun or storm with legs and skirts drenched in the primordial necessity, carefree. This was love, cold or warm, from Ocean to clear spring, it was health, abundance unmeasured.

later, rinsing my own children's clothes in the creek was a distinct advantage, I felt complete and caring, for the purity of the water, the sound of rushing over stones and the smell of hydrogenated goodness, oxygen at work on hands and cloth. What pleasures, what privilege. I miss the contact, senses alive with need and fulfillment; the stuff of life! I shall return with continuing personal evolution of water consciousness across that Ocean and into the desert

.

Spring' sGreen Cure.

Spring Green Detox:

Following seasonal changes, body and mind experience a resurgence of vitality as days get longer; it is essential to prepare for the physical and spiritual renewal ahead. After a more sedentary period, cells may be laden with toxins, intestines and organs are clogged with digestive residue; this is the time to take advantage of plant life to gently cleanse our systems and to add minerals and vitamins in their original interactive properties.

As winter ends, I pull out bags and baskets to gather herbs and greens which some may view as noxious invaders. Foraging tools include light colored clothing, water resistant shoes, hat, hand shovel, small knife or kitchen scissors, paper bags, I also recommend a field book of wild edibles for novice students of nature.

Roadsides may be contaminated with heavy metals from traffic dust and emissions, so I avoid harvesting within 40 feet from any street. The risk of pesticide residue presents real danger along sidewalks or farmer's fields, due to current agricultural practices I must remain at safe distance of cultivated areas. This leaves only woodlots, open range and known neighbors. The sight of an abandoned lot or untended hedges provides comfort to the forager or hunter-gatherer; I skip along wood sides with eye trained to familiar new leaves, secure in the promise of wild foods a turtle or a hare would be fond of.

When the first dandelions peak from cracks and leaf mats around the house, I use a small weed-puller tool to dig up the whole plant. Salads and omelettes benefit from the addition of fresh greens. Stews, sauces, dips and purees can hide the less presentable ones. Add onions or garlic for healthful flavoring. Smooth the taste with a spoon of sour cream and yogurt if not yet accustomed to plain vegetable taste. After a long winter of preserves or processed foods, the digestive track may need tender input.

Chicory begins to bud as a rosette as soon as sun warms the soil, the veins of this dandelion family are reddish then, and make a fine addition to soups. They are diuretic and exert a cleansing action on the biliary ducts, liver and gallbladder, as do the vegetative cousins; artichoke and thistle.

I collect sorrel rosettes by inserting knife below center and sever the tap root, or cut with scissors. The tart oxalic acid is milder than spinach but vibrant in a perky romaine lettuce salad. Iron and multiple trace minerals in this enriching vegetable are absorbed with the aid of its vitamin C content.

I begin munching on all sorts of violets, Viola papilionacea is astringent, I can sense the cleansing properties within the anti-oxidants enhancing vision and immune system. Sautéed in stir fry or added to salads and deserts, they are a welcome texture, leaf and flower. (Note; only harvest the tops) the roots are emetic, could cause some unpleasant vomiting.

Plantains are best picked young, you can identify the flat lanceolate leaf and rosette spread flat on the ground. All species of plantago contain mucilage, a beneficial fiber which lowers LDL cholesterol and triglycerides; used as herbal teas or boiled for greens, they have a soothing and anti-inflammatory effect.

Daylilies are plentiful, not on the gourmet list, but seasoned with scallions or butter, they provide ample fiber and minerals. Young sprouts make great company for a fish platter. Very young spikes moisten an omelette. Sprinkled with vinaigrette like a bland leek, they can be wrapped with cheese and ham. Steamed, they assume the role of companion to potatoes or rice dishes, thicken vegetable soups when pureed and make .

Chickweed' s long wispy strands add excellent nutrition to salads. these plants are best snipped with scissors( unless you enjoy tedious hours untangling them at the kitchen counter later). The mild herb provides much needed vitamins and minerals. I eat most of them on the spot, and may share with the chickens if plentiful.

Matricaria, also called pineapple weed, a chamomile, can provide soothing relief and it tastes as its common name. the fine lacy leaves add visual appeal to humble salads, or as garnish next to fish or squash..yes, it is polite to munch on the decorations in this case..

Within a few weeks of incremental addition of greens, the body will feel scrubbed and rinsed within. There is no magic pill to improve clearer function and motion, the solution to dietary overload lives in the whole plants, ask any cat. Animals instinctively know which herbs smell just right to purge processed pet foods or winter silage out of their systems...i wonder if they feel as good as i when crunching on fresh greens.

The anticipation of pure relief and rejuvenation surges through glands, and i wait for sunshine to coax familiar herbs from the rich loam of the Midwest...If foraging is not on your schedule, perhaps a farmer's market is on your path.

I hear spring coming in the kitchen.

A Fondness for Food

Some articles pop-up out of the search engines, by the luck of the spiderbots and the online draw; this article I wrote for Karen Hanrahan of Best of Mother Earth, in June '08 keeps surging across cyberspace , so I thought that I would revive it, I mean revise it...to sing the song of reinforcement to the green choir, friends who already know how to live well—but need reassurance or perfect reincarnation.

The original writing still exists in its other form:
http://bestofmotherearth.com/2008/06/21/a-fondness-for-food-by-nadine-sellers.html

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Food has been on man’s mind ever since man has had a brain. Or so i assume. The act of feeding is a primordial animal need and concern, just ask any Frenchman.. Some cultures center on different aspects of eating; Asians have traditionally searched the balance of nutrients, as in Yin and Yang and its medicinal effects upon the body. Latin peoples have sought deep joy around family feasts. Jivaros have crystallized tribal unity around the dinner ritual, your head or mine? Sorry for interjecting terrible anthropological humor in the subject, but food is a serious topic, yes, yes ask any French chef <not know for humor>.



Movies have filled the box office on the single food theme, beginning with the 1987 Danish classic Babette's Feast, to deliciously portray an extravagant social feat. “Soul Food”, then the 2001 Tortilla Soup, and onto “ Like Water for Chocolate”.  Tears and saliva spilled over popcorn.
 
Obsessive food compulsion has permeated regional folklore, I was always puzzled by the American dictum of “ she must be pregnant; she craves pickles and ice-cream” I wondered how all the other women in the rest of the world could find out if they were with child if they had no such foods to clue them in? The survival of the species must be at stake....

The number of cook-books in bookstores and on neighbor's shelves surprised me as well, especially when the proud cooks displayed an amazing lack of culinary skills—despite the educational material at hand right there with glossy full page photos and how to forks at ready!..Perhaps the difference between the bibliophile and the instinctual cook was never so evident. I felt like saying, please throw the book in the stew, add pepper and salt with two bay leaves and a sprig of parsley.

Even more shocking to me as a new immigrant was the fact that a person of a 'certain age' would reach for the cook's bible to make pancakes, pancakes or pasta? And men were said to be able to boil water and barbecue a perfectly good cut of beef to death.

Of course when I was offered a Fannie Farmer's revised edition of her famous cook-book as a wedding present, I cried, my throat closed, my eyes shut and I spent the longest seclusion in recorded bathroom history. I was convinced that someone believed me inept and un-marriageable. Looking through shelves at the super-market, I am sure that many high school graduates are aiming for a total misuse of their home economics curriculum. There is so much shelf space devoted to  processed artificially prepared foodstuffs that it is increasingly difficult to find pure ingredients to nourish body and mind.

Food is more than something to chew on, animal instinct insures proper selection. Newly developed modern science has diverged from nature in the art of supplying wellness to society, consumers. Folklore used to be a vehicle of long held knowledge, but the diaspora has disseminated and confused the principles of food as medicine. When the Jewish philosopher physician Maimonides found chicken soup to be a cure for such respiratory problems as asthma, he did not know that scientists would corroborate his theories, eight centuries hence.

When the Egyptians worshiped the trusty garlic plant, they only had empirical savvy about its capacity to treat cryptoccocal meningitis. Then Pliny the elder, the Roman do gooder found it to be beneficial for thinning the blood, (among its many properties). I can just see an Italian mother serving garlic laden sauce to her ailing family, “eat and your Tuberculosis will get better”, well actually, researchers have indeed proven the efficacy of allicin against myco-bacterium Avium and especially as treatment for TB.

So what do the rest of us do on a regular day to improve our food intake? If it were only an act of nutrition, we’d trot over to some fast food place and stuff something in the dotted line that says "open face- insert here”, and presto, human is fed (up). I do know folks who would casually perform this soulless routine as feeding time. They can also simultaneously hold a conversation with co-workers and hold a cell phone by other ear. Is this a diminished ritual or a multitasking feat?

Attitude holds power in the pursuit of wellness, starting from the selection of fresh locally grown produce to the preparation of the food,. The connectivity between the supplier and the consumer can extend the value of the meal. Ever since i was tall enough to order, I had a respectful relationship with the family butcher, i would stretch up and ask for my father’s preferred cuts over the market’s marble counters. Nothing but the best for those who appreciate quality. In this country we trust our local butcher at Hy-Vee, we treasure this although we seldom use the privilege.

Farmers markets provide joy, the anticipation of organic produce in a direct path to your table adds an essential pleasure to mere consumption. Green grocers do present a small array of locally grown produce. Here in the Midwest, Amish farmers offer seasonal vegetables, sorry, I grow my own, and drown in green gifts come harvest time, I swear I should not grow any squash, but then, friends may not grow any either and i' d be virtually squashless.

There is no evident continuity in the plastic wrapped processed meat or canned veges, the ultimate product has been intercepted by an army of middlemen on the search for rapid profits and long shelf life. Laboratories have provided clues to sensory enhancement and whole generations have been addicted to artificial sweeteners and flavors. The palate is fooled by clever additives and sweet mimicry of HFCs, but the body is not fooled my dear!

Just check the occurrence of common illness and related cause and effect of malnutrition.You will be able to correlate the lack of fiber to that digestive problem, or worse. Better serve a colorful palette of deep orange, yellows and purples to ward off skin and eye problems, build preventive immunity with deep shiny greens and yellows, add fruits of matching hues and be certain that between the crayon worthy dinners and a chew worthy cup of whole grain food, the doctor will still have enough patients, and you'll have money left for fun—or more real food.. i wish i had a handy camera to show and tell...

Hippocrates wrote " let food be your medicine”, he knew of the complexity of active phyto-nutrients in ordinary ingredients. A return to natural foods and carefully processed supplements would ease the health crisis in developed countries. Immune systems need the whole range of vitamins and minerals from a variety of plants and elements. Modern pharmacology has cleaved a divide between food and drugs, while the forty previous centuries had connected the art and science of food as wellness. Inseparably so.

The body knows, the nose knows.
take your senses on a daily trip to the markets and grow some primal instinct at the heart of your nourishment. Go on a window shopping tour of gourmet shops, buy small jars or pack of spices, your happy table will tell you stories to fill more than the stomach. There is a glow about the well fed person; and nature holds the mystery.

Close To The Dirt

Walking alongside roads, collecting aluminum cans, we were doing our civic duty, keeping the countryside beautiful. More likely we were finding metal to recycle for a few dollars, practicing

economy and ecology as entertainment. For myself, no conflict arises out of recycling.

I was born in Normandy, the birthplace of northern frugality. Then to retrace the ecological roots of culture, my paternal ancestors would assert that the southern French were born with dirt in their genes. Soil holds the evidence of everything. Water is the fluid vehicle of all effluence; and air? I prefer not to see it or taste it.

I was raised in the South-West of France, school-year in the city and every vacation spent in my ancestral village. Surrounding woods were rife with mushrooms, fruits and berries. I later followed a different personal path through deserts and prairies across the sea. Mother, the Normand, never understood my preference for the countryside; mud afoot, long workdays, snakes and bugs were not 'her' idea of pleasure. By default and isolation I became an accidental poet and a compulsive gardener under various conditions and climates.

I now live in the land of too much milk and not enough honey. Cows are fat with hormones, bees are dying, and milk makes no butter-cream. Honey is expensive and fruits largely tasteless. I found an ancient tree in town which produces delicious crunchy apples. Amish fruit stands full of organic goodies dot the highways in good weather.. Meadows and ditches are replete with edible plants. Fallen trees provide free fodder for the wood stove... Now venison and turkey are the last abundant offering, though catfish and bass rank highly as well in private ponds, to avoid river pollutants..

All is not yet lost; counties are too poor to spray herbicides on roadsides. Abandonment has preserved a few elderberry bushes about town, gnarly trees keep on producing pears and persimmons despite owner's obvious carelessness. Birds congregate in the tall walnut trees, watching the climatic effects upon insect populations provides unbiased windows into a near future. No matter the circumstance, it is the single gesture, the individual thought which restores balance in the larger world. A small measure of neglect can be instrumental in conserving nature.

With businesses closing down and the tax-base eroding, prices have surged everywhere. Our own lifestyle resembles that of pioneers, though not always by choice. Knowledge gathered across cultural divides, accumulated as insurance against inevitable adversity. I remain close to the dirt; i don't mean the fingernail and muddy toes kind of contact, but an ongoing respect for natural principles. That which comes from the ground shall return to the ground-sort of continuum... The rest is waste...and I have made that a lifelong project—to refuse as much as possible -- to re-purpose creatively-- and--to use everything to its natural conclusion.

And the ground wins! despite the general lack of interest in learning about the effects of human habits upon the environment at large. There is an ascetic pleasure in minimalism, to use little, to throw little, what a passion i feel in the art of conservation. Oh yes art, because a well spent day is an art form. A well planned meal eaten around a common table is basically sharing the fruits of the soil (and I don't mean cocoa puffs scarfed hastily at the kitchen counter). Finding reasons to live along natural ways and disseminating what we find there to save ourselves from commercial encroachment (emphasis on what can be done at home) or anywhere you are.

Winter has saturated the clay and fields are swelling with my favorite greens, a cure is in the air, it's free and it's good for me, now, is that pleasure or survival? All I can do is to protect myself with the natural antidotes to chemical assaults committed by corporate zeal, (in my cantankerous consumer name). Dandelions and mushrooms, berries and kale, seaweed grown in unpolluted gulfs, one texture after another, i taste rich and healthful abundance.

Now, on to composting ideas and gathering joy; i have friends waiting for tips and recipes or scientific reports about energy development. And I have blogs to read for more organic discoveries, most of all, for positive news to spread.

Enough about the writer and forward to the writing and reading!, ns