If it had not caught the attention of a handful of important readers, Jesmyn Ward’s “Salvage the Bones” would most likely have quietly faded into obscurity; many worthy books do. Now, however, this novel about a poor Mississippi family in the weeks leading up to 2005’s Hurricane Katrina has a prominent place in bookstores and boasts the gold medallion that comes with winning the 2011 National Book Award.
Book awards are marvelously idiosyncratic. While major film and music awards are based on the votes of a large group — meaning there is a general consensus or popularity — book awards are frequently selected by just a few people. In the case of the National Book Awards, five judges read 315 fiction submissions in a small window of time and choose their favorite. The result, this year, was that an under-the-radar second novel rose to the top of the pack.
“Salvage the Bones” is an intense book, with powerful, direct prose that dips into poetic metaphor. It’s told by a teenage girl, Esch, whose late-summer thoughts turn to Greek myths and her neglectful lover, Manny. “I imagine this is the way Medea felt about Jason when she fell in love,” she thinks. “That she looked at him and felt a fire eating up through her rib cage, turning her blood to boil, evaporating hotly out of every inch of her skin. I feel it so strongly that I cannot imagine how Manny does not feel it, too.”
Although Esch has been sexually active since the age of 12, Manny, a friend of her brother’s, is the first man she’s fallen for. Her desire for a relationship with him is more aspirational than realistic — their couplings are heated but passionless, and he lives with a girlfriend — but hopes, however tenuous, are the lifeline for Esch and her brothers.
The siblings have largely raised themselves since their mother died after giving birth to Junior, the youngest. After her death, their father took up a diminishing cycle of odd jobs, alcohol and anger. They live on several rural acres that belonged to their mother’s family, which once profited by using part of it as an ad-hoc dump. Broken appliances and partly working vehicles dot the yard between their house and the decaying home where their grandparents lived; chickens wander, no longer confined to an abandoned chicken coop.
Randall, the eldest, practices basketball with hopes that it might bring him to the attention of a scout and college. Esch longs for Manny. Skeetah, a year younger than Esch, thinks he’ll be able to sell the puppies from his cherished fighting dog, China.
This would probably be the right place to mention that if you have a problem with dogfights, this might not be the book for you. Or girls having casual sex with their older brothers’ friends at age 12, for that matter. Yet the story is told with such immediacy and openness that it may keep judgments at bay. We are immersed in Esch’s world, a world in which birth and death nestle close, where there is little safety except that which the siblings create for each other.
Ward, 34, accepted the National Book Award saying that she wanted to write about poor, black rural Southerners in such a way that the greater culture would see their stories as universal.
2011年12月29日星期四
2011年12月28日星期三
Freewood Acres Provides Continued Service in Family Environment
For Freewood Acres Fire Chief William Donahue and his brother and assistant chief Bobby, being at the firehouse is like being in their second home. After all, for as long as they can remember their father Donald was a member of the department and has the building's memorial hall named in his honor.
Because the brothers have such a strong family connection to the department, they said they try to make everyone feel like they are an extended family while serving a vital role for their community.
Founded back in 1951, even after 60 years of service, Freewood Acres is one of the newest members of the Howell Fire Bureau. With a total of 24 members, including 15 active members, William said there is plenty of experience to call upon when the tones go off.
As with the rest of the fire bureau, Freewood Acres serves a defined area that stretches a total of 15 square miles. Their service area includes from West Farms Road to Aldrich Road and from the Jackson border to the area near Howell High School and Middle School North. Even in that limited area, Donahue said last year they got a total of 344 calls with many of them being mutual aid to help neighboring departments. One of the more recent calls was a barn fire on Lemon Road where they were one of several houses to respond.
While they may not have the large numbers of some other departments, the Donahue brothers said they have what they need to help serve the community. "This is a small group of people that bands together when we really have to," William said. "We're not fighting fires with 50 to 60 guys. We're fighting fires with 10." Not counting the drivers of the trucks that report to a scene and he said that number drops to between four and six.
Just as important as what they do, he said is how they do it. "We grew up here so we know it's supposed to be family," he said. "When family's in trouble you're supposed to help them and we try to keep that going."
Since the time when their father first started with the department, they have seen the area the firehouse covers change greatly. The chicken coops that they say once lined the roadway have now largely been replaced by developments over the years bringing more people to the community they serve.
Having served as chief for 18 years, William said he has been able to combine his work as a professional fire fighter at Fort Monmouth with his time at Freewood Acres to do both jobs better.
In his time with the department, he said he has seen the good and the bad of firefighting and experienced some challenges himself. "We've had good fires where we've saved people and we've had fires where we just can't get there in time," he said.
Even after all these years, he said depending on the fire when the tones go off he still gets a rush of adrenaline when the tones sound. At the same time, his experience he said also helps him to prepare for the fire and help the members of the department do the same.
That experience also comes with some stories he will never forget. That includes a fire in 1984 when he said he stopped breathing and had to be resuscitated in the ambulance and one three years later on Lemon Rd. when he went crashing through a floor into the basement of a house. "I've had things that as chief my goal is to never let that happen to anybody else," he said. "I fell through a floor, I stopped breathing. These things happen in a fire service. If I can stop them from happening I've done my job."
Even after falling into the basement and being surrounded by fire, Donahue said he never considered walking away from the job. "I can tell you what a hot dog feels like when it's being barbecued," he said with a laugh. It was the words of a former fire inspector that he said helped get him back on the truck not long after being released from the hospital. "He told me flat out to get back on the horse," he said. "He said if you don't get back in a fire you never will. I will and I have. If you don't get back and do it you'll be so scared you'll never do it again."
His brother said it is their experience and training that has helped them get through the hard parts of the job. "It goes back on training and experience. You're not going nuts because you have a fire call," he said. "If you're doing this long enough it's, 'okay, we're doing this again.' You're not going nuts, you're not running and you're not going crazy."
Like many of the local departments, Freewood Acres also offers a junior firefighter program. Those area residents who are 16-years-old or older are encouraged to go to the firehouse to learn what is involved in the process. While they learn about the job and the house, William said there are some things juniors will not do. "The biggest thing is we can't put a juvenile in any kind of danger," he said. "We can teach them, but they can't handle a charged hose line, they can't handle any saws. Anything that's dangerous they can't do."
Bobby added that while learning about fire safety is important, they also stress the importance of schoolwork. "Our policy here is that it's also schooling and education," he said. "We make our juniors carry at least a 'B' average." His brother added that the education of their juniors is critical to their success with the department. "We tell them that school is first. Go home and do your homework, the fire department will still be here."
If and when they become active members, attendance at the house is more important, but both said for juniors they need to find that balance. "Because you're a junior we care more about you getting your high school diploma than you being up here learning," William said.
Finding people who want to join as active members can also be a challenge. In order to become a member the person must be 18-years-old, go through a background check and be voted on by the members of the house. After that they go through a rigorous training program at the Monmouth County Fire Academy. For some people, it is the training that William said scares them off from joining the department. "Being a volunteer how do you explain to your wife or kids or anyone I have to give up the next 11 weekends to go to fire fighting school," he said.
Fortunately, he said people continue to fill the department's ranks. "Out of our member's ranks probably eight or nine of them have been here for 15 years or more and they're not going anywhere," he said.
No matter what their numbers are, Freewood Acres is one of the houses in the Howell Fire Bureau. While the departments might keep to their own on a regular basis, they are always ready to do what has to be done. "When the tones go off you do what you gotta do," he said. "You work together."
For many Howell residents, the fire district they live in may not even be something they are aware of. William said when the fire commissioner elections come up in February they are explaining to residents where they should go to vote. And the vote, he said, is for a budget, which covers a very limited scope of items. "The budget is strictly for financing the district for fire prevention," he said. That includes items like trucks, gear and other equipment. All other items are funded through the departments themselves.
Because the brothers have such a strong family connection to the department, they said they try to make everyone feel like they are an extended family while serving a vital role for their community.
Founded back in 1951, even after 60 years of service, Freewood Acres is one of the newest members of the Howell Fire Bureau. With a total of 24 members, including 15 active members, William said there is plenty of experience to call upon when the tones go off.
As with the rest of the fire bureau, Freewood Acres serves a defined area that stretches a total of 15 square miles. Their service area includes from West Farms Road to Aldrich Road and from the Jackson border to the area near Howell High School and Middle School North. Even in that limited area, Donahue said last year they got a total of 344 calls with many of them being mutual aid to help neighboring departments. One of the more recent calls was a barn fire on Lemon Road where they were one of several houses to respond.
While they may not have the large numbers of some other departments, the Donahue brothers said they have what they need to help serve the community. "This is a small group of people that bands together when we really have to," William said. "We're not fighting fires with 50 to 60 guys. We're fighting fires with 10." Not counting the drivers of the trucks that report to a scene and he said that number drops to between four and six.
Just as important as what they do, he said is how they do it. "We grew up here so we know it's supposed to be family," he said. "When family's in trouble you're supposed to help them and we try to keep that going."
Since the time when their father first started with the department, they have seen the area the firehouse covers change greatly. The chicken coops that they say once lined the roadway have now largely been replaced by developments over the years bringing more people to the community they serve.
Having served as chief for 18 years, William said he has been able to combine his work as a professional fire fighter at Fort Monmouth with his time at Freewood Acres to do both jobs better.
In his time with the department, he said he has seen the good and the bad of firefighting and experienced some challenges himself. "We've had good fires where we've saved people and we've had fires where we just can't get there in time," he said.
Even after all these years, he said depending on the fire when the tones go off he still gets a rush of adrenaline when the tones sound. At the same time, his experience he said also helps him to prepare for the fire and help the members of the department do the same.
That experience also comes with some stories he will never forget. That includes a fire in 1984 when he said he stopped breathing and had to be resuscitated in the ambulance and one three years later on Lemon Rd. when he went crashing through a floor into the basement of a house. "I've had things that as chief my goal is to never let that happen to anybody else," he said. "I fell through a floor, I stopped breathing. These things happen in a fire service. If I can stop them from happening I've done my job."
Even after falling into the basement and being surrounded by fire, Donahue said he never considered walking away from the job. "I can tell you what a hot dog feels like when it's being barbecued," he said with a laugh. It was the words of a former fire inspector that he said helped get him back on the truck not long after being released from the hospital. "He told me flat out to get back on the horse," he said. "He said if you don't get back in a fire you never will. I will and I have. If you don't get back and do it you'll be so scared you'll never do it again."
His brother said it is their experience and training that has helped them get through the hard parts of the job. "It goes back on training and experience. You're not going nuts because you have a fire call," he said. "If you're doing this long enough it's, 'okay, we're doing this again.' You're not going nuts, you're not running and you're not going crazy."
Like many of the local departments, Freewood Acres also offers a junior firefighter program. Those area residents who are 16-years-old or older are encouraged to go to the firehouse to learn what is involved in the process. While they learn about the job and the house, William said there are some things juniors will not do. "The biggest thing is we can't put a juvenile in any kind of danger," he said. "We can teach them, but they can't handle a charged hose line, they can't handle any saws. Anything that's dangerous they can't do."
Bobby added that while learning about fire safety is important, they also stress the importance of schoolwork. "Our policy here is that it's also schooling and education," he said. "We make our juniors carry at least a 'B' average." His brother added that the education of their juniors is critical to their success with the department. "We tell them that school is first. Go home and do your homework, the fire department will still be here."
If and when they become active members, attendance at the house is more important, but both said for juniors they need to find that balance. "Because you're a junior we care more about you getting your high school diploma than you being up here learning," William said.
Finding people who want to join as active members can also be a challenge. In order to become a member the person must be 18-years-old, go through a background check and be voted on by the members of the house. After that they go through a rigorous training program at the Monmouth County Fire Academy. For some people, it is the training that William said scares them off from joining the department. "Being a volunteer how do you explain to your wife or kids or anyone I have to give up the next 11 weekends to go to fire fighting school," he said.
Fortunately, he said people continue to fill the department's ranks. "Out of our member's ranks probably eight or nine of them have been here for 15 years or more and they're not going anywhere," he said.
No matter what their numbers are, Freewood Acres is one of the houses in the Howell Fire Bureau. While the departments might keep to their own on a regular basis, they are always ready to do what has to be done. "When the tones go off you do what you gotta do," he said. "You work together."
For many Howell residents, the fire district they live in may not even be something they are aware of. William said when the fire commissioner elections come up in February they are explaining to residents where they should go to vote. And the vote, he said, is for a budget, which covers a very limited scope of items. "The budget is strictly for financing the district for fire prevention," he said. That includes items like trucks, gear and other equipment. All other items are funded through the departments themselves.
2011年12月27日星期二
The Real Cost of Backyard Chickens
It sounded like a killer let loose in the chicken coop, so I jumped from the couch in hot pursuit. With my bare hands—and still nearly napping, though my feet were suddenly flying—I was apparently going to have to best a raccoon or a fox, though perhaps I’d get lucky and merely have to duel a vole. Point is, my wife loved those chickens and it was her birthday, for God’s sake. Gallantry was in order.
I had to outrun—then outfight—this demon.
For those new to this column, let me chronicle how I arrived at a surreal point when a nap was punctured by a flat-out sprint toward venal killers—and in my backyard, no less.
Earlier this year, Lori and I surprised friends, neighbors and probably even ourselves by deciding to raise chickens. Never mind that we already had 3 kids and 2 dogs and 2 cats. And forget that we hardly have a farm, barely even 1/5 of a suburban acre. Fact is, we’re not alone in feeling a pull toward chickens. Chickens were referred to in The New Yorker as the new “it” bird and Alice Walker just came out with a book called “Chicken Chronicles,” essays of her thoughts while gazing at her navel in her chicken coop. (Yes, I bought it for my wife. No, I won’t read it, even at gunpoint.)
But I digress. The point is that there was an apparent massacre in my midst—Helter Skelter meets hens--and, hold on, I’m getting there. But first let me just say that our decision to jump onto the feathery bandwagon was easier said than done. I suffer from a bad case of nonchalance about how hard new projects will be, but even Lori was taken aback about how much it cost to build a chicken run and small coop.
We stopped counting at $1,800. There goes the economic justification for raising your own livestock.
But life stretches beyond the ledger. And chickens are (and I apologize for this ahead of time) odd ducks. Their necks bob with comic regularity even as their habits—reliably going home to roost every night—add a certain gracious, timeless cycle to a suburban life, otherwise too far in the hold of school bus arrivals and departures, a violin lessons here, grocery shopping there.
Was it all over before it had barely started?
Luckily, no. Despite the battle cries emanating from the chicken run, my tussling services were not needed, nor were the skills of a forensic specialist. All the hens were totally fine. The only sight out of the ordinary was Loretta Sopressata, one of our five, who was simply activated like never before. Clucking loudly, something had given her a shot to the spirit. Inspecting the run and its perimeter, I found no trespasser, or even an attempt at a breach.
I went to their coop: also, all quiet. And that’s when I saw them: a pair of eggs. They were the first the hens had laid. That we had effectively paid $1,000 for each could be brushed aside, at least for the moment. These were our first eggs. They came a month ahead of schedule and right on my wife’s birthday.
I stared at the perfect pair of brown eggs, one elegantly spotted, for a few minutes, posed them for photographs and as soon as my wife came home, we called up the neighbors, who came over to gawk.
Both timeless and an idea of the moment, only chickens can turn the production of two simple eggs into a collective revelation.
I had to outrun—then outfight—this demon.
For those new to this column, let me chronicle how I arrived at a surreal point when a nap was punctured by a flat-out sprint toward venal killers—and in my backyard, no less.
Earlier this year, Lori and I surprised friends, neighbors and probably even ourselves by deciding to raise chickens. Never mind that we already had 3 kids and 2 dogs and 2 cats. And forget that we hardly have a farm, barely even 1/5 of a suburban acre. Fact is, we’re not alone in feeling a pull toward chickens. Chickens were referred to in The New Yorker as the new “it” bird and Alice Walker just came out with a book called “Chicken Chronicles,” essays of her thoughts while gazing at her navel in her chicken coop. (Yes, I bought it for my wife. No, I won’t read it, even at gunpoint.)
But I digress. The point is that there was an apparent massacre in my midst—Helter Skelter meets hens--and, hold on, I’m getting there. But first let me just say that our decision to jump onto the feathery bandwagon was easier said than done. I suffer from a bad case of nonchalance about how hard new projects will be, but even Lori was taken aback about how much it cost to build a chicken run and small coop.
We stopped counting at $1,800. There goes the economic justification for raising your own livestock.
But life stretches beyond the ledger. And chickens are (and I apologize for this ahead of time) odd ducks. Their necks bob with comic regularity even as their habits—reliably going home to roost every night—add a certain gracious, timeless cycle to a suburban life, otherwise too far in the hold of school bus arrivals and departures, a violin lessons here, grocery shopping there.
Was it all over before it had barely started?
Luckily, no. Despite the battle cries emanating from the chicken run, my tussling services were not needed, nor were the skills of a forensic specialist. All the hens were totally fine. The only sight out of the ordinary was Loretta Sopressata, one of our five, who was simply activated like never before. Clucking loudly, something had given her a shot to the spirit. Inspecting the run and its perimeter, I found no trespasser, or even an attempt at a breach.
I went to their coop: also, all quiet. And that’s when I saw them: a pair of eggs. They were the first the hens had laid. That we had effectively paid $1,000 for each could be brushed aside, at least for the moment. These were our first eggs. They came a month ahead of schedule and right on my wife’s birthday.
I stared at the perfect pair of brown eggs, one elegantly spotted, for a few minutes, posed them for photographs and as soon as my wife came home, we called up the neighbors, who came over to gawk.
Both timeless and an idea of the moment, only chickens can turn the production of two simple eggs into a collective revelation.
2011年12月26日星期一
Cooking has become the last true art
Why is it that TV cookery shows have become so popular? That recipe websites like Epicurious proliferate? That turning out palatable meals has ceased to be a woman's preserve and now draws men as well?
To make the question still more pointed, how come the culinary arts have grown in prominence, while other contemporary art forms are receding?
Consider modern classical music. One long-suffering audience member said it reminded him of a bus crash. Though read any of the top music reviewers, and you'll find them exulting over this tuneless mess.
Or take modern art. For a mere $140 million, you can buy a painting by Jackson Pollock called "No. 5." I forget if this is the one that hung upside down in a New York gallery.
But if you laid a piece of canvass on the floor of a chicken coop for three months, "No. 5" is what it would look like.
So too modern sculpture. I still recall the horror of local citizens in Kingston, Ont., many years ago, when the city commissioned a centre piece for MacDonald Park and the "artist" erected two huge sewage culverts with sludge spilling out.
The eyesore was improved one night when a bunch of engineering students from Queen's University temporarily transformed the culverts into perfect representations of a Coke and Pepsi can. But the sculptor insisted on returning to his vision of a bombed-out septic field.
You find modernity's palsied hand in updates of the Bible. Thus "Mary was with child" is rendered as "Mary had fallen pregnant," while "through a glass darkly" becomes "puzzling reflections in a mirror."
And what purblind revisionist struck out "It ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women" and gave us "Sarah ceased having her monthly periods"? (Hat-tip to the Rev. Dr. Peter Mullen, who nailed this miserable practice in Britain's Telegraph newspaper).
And while we're on the subject of contemporary poetry, can any of it keep pace with this sort of thing? (From Kipling, on the creed of Afghan warriors): "Four things greater than all things are, women and horses and power and war."
The problem with all these avantgarde monstrosities is that a form of elitism has taken over. The views of ordinary folks are discarded, in favour of appeals to a chichi minority. Values like beauty and harmony have become passé. Melody is dismissed as an affliction of the masses.
In his book on art, The Painted Word, Tom Wolfe perfectly captured the sterility of this project: "In the beginning we got rid of - realism. Then we got rid of representational objects. Then we got rid of the third dimension altogether. Art made its final flight, climbed higher and higher in an ever-decreasing tighter-turning spiral until it disappeared up its own fundamental aperture."
Very well then. So why hasn't this happened to modern cookery? You could argue that momentarily it did, with the nouvelle cuisine movement and its emphasis on gauzy presentation rather than flavour or nourishment.
But thankfully that didn't last. Most top-ranked restaurants today are serving down-to-earth food. Indeed they display a healthy contempt for elevated views about diet.
In Britain, traditional country recipes are returning. You can eat pigeon pie or rabbit stew in any decent pub.
European countries have wild game festivals in the Fall. B.C. chefs are stressing the culinary delights of free range pork and fresh caught salmon.
And cardiac-implicated butter remains the fat of choice. Hyper-tensing salt is scattered liberally. Infanticidal veal adorns the plate.
These all, in one respect or another, tread on politically incorrect territory. One imagines vegans shrinking at this glorying in the virtues of meat.
The public health lobby is probably appalled at the thought of all that cholesterol being dished out. And the animal rights types must be incensed.
Yet strikingly, unlike the salons of art and literature, cookery has ignored the refined and high-minded. And while the world's great symphony orchestras are headed for the poorhouse, victims of an epic failure to understand their audience, restaurants are booming.
So how did this happen? I suppose one answer might be that food is so central to the human condition, faddists daren't mess with it. Though I wouldn't put it past them.
But it's not just eating in restaurants that's thriving. Home cooking has become a defining hobby of the Baby Boom generation. Forget bowling or ballroom dancing; we're in the kitchen slinging food.
And that, I think, explains why cookery has flourished. It doesn't depend on corporate sponsors or rich benefactors, as most classical art now does.
It is by nature, and by breadth of ownership, a labour of the common man and not of the elite.
To make the question still more pointed, how come the culinary arts have grown in prominence, while other contemporary art forms are receding?
Consider modern classical music. One long-suffering audience member said it reminded him of a bus crash. Though read any of the top music reviewers, and you'll find them exulting over this tuneless mess.
Or take modern art. For a mere $140 million, you can buy a painting by Jackson Pollock called "No. 5." I forget if this is the one that hung upside down in a New York gallery.
But if you laid a piece of canvass on the floor of a chicken coop for three months, "No. 5" is what it would look like.
So too modern sculpture. I still recall the horror of local citizens in Kingston, Ont., many years ago, when the city commissioned a centre piece for MacDonald Park and the "artist" erected two huge sewage culverts with sludge spilling out.
The eyesore was improved one night when a bunch of engineering students from Queen's University temporarily transformed the culverts into perfect representations of a Coke and Pepsi can. But the sculptor insisted on returning to his vision of a bombed-out septic field.
You find modernity's palsied hand in updates of the Bible. Thus "Mary was with child" is rendered as "Mary had fallen pregnant," while "through a glass darkly" becomes "puzzling reflections in a mirror."
And what purblind revisionist struck out "It ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women" and gave us "Sarah ceased having her monthly periods"? (Hat-tip to the Rev. Dr. Peter Mullen, who nailed this miserable practice in Britain's Telegraph newspaper).
And while we're on the subject of contemporary poetry, can any of it keep pace with this sort of thing? (From Kipling, on the creed of Afghan warriors): "Four things greater than all things are, women and horses and power and war."
The problem with all these avantgarde monstrosities is that a form of elitism has taken over. The views of ordinary folks are discarded, in favour of appeals to a chichi minority. Values like beauty and harmony have become passé. Melody is dismissed as an affliction of the masses.
In his book on art, The Painted Word, Tom Wolfe perfectly captured the sterility of this project: "In the beginning we got rid of - realism. Then we got rid of representational objects. Then we got rid of the third dimension altogether. Art made its final flight, climbed higher and higher in an ever-decreasing tighter-turning spiral until it disappeared up its own fundamental aperture."
Very well then. So why hasn't this happened to modern cookery? You could argue that momentarily it did, with the nouvelle cuisine movement and its emphasis on gauzy presentation rather than flavour or nourishment.
But thankfully that didn't last. Most top-ranked restaurants today are serving down-to-earth food. Indeed they display a healthy contempt for elevated views about diet.
In Britain, traditional country recipes are returning. You can eat pigeon pie or rabbit stew in any decent pub.
European countries have wild game festivals in the Fall. B.C. chefs are stressing the culinary delights of free range pork and fresh caught salmon.
And cardiac-implicated butter remains the fat of choice. Hyper-tensing salt is scattered liberally. Infanticidal veal adorns the plate.
These all, in one respect or another, tread on politically incorrect territory. One imagines vegans shrinking at this glorying in the virtues of meat.
The public health lobby is probably appalled at the thought of all that cholesterol being dished out. And the animal rights types must be incensed.
Yet strikingly, unlike the salons of art and literature, cookery has ignored the refined and high-minded. And while the world's great symphony orchestras are headed for the poorhouse, victims of an epic failure to understand their audience, restaurants are booming.
So how did this happen? I suppose one answer might be that food is so central to the human condition, faddists daren't mess with it. Though I wouldn't put it past them.
But it's not just eating in restaurants that's thriving. Home cooking has become a defining hobby of the Baby Boom generation. Forget bowling or ballroom dancing; we're in the kitchen slinging food.
And that, I think, explains why cookery has flourished. It doesn't depend on corporate sponsors or rich benefactors, as most classical art now does.
It is by nature, and by breadth of ownership, a labour of the common man and not of the elite.
2011年12月25日星期日
Our grandparents taught us what true forgiveness looks like
Much has been made of the Japanese government’s recent apology to Canadian prisoners of war. The apology was welcome and long overdue. Our government’s gracious acceptance was also a dignified gesture.
But while this meaningful exchange between two great nations is symbolically important, true forgiveness can only come from those who suffered, who bled, who lost all dignity during those dark days.
Without such forgiveness, we would never have been born.
On Christmas Day, 1941, our maternal grandfather, Ralph MacLean, was captured by Japanese forces during the fall of Hong Kong. He was an 18-year-old kid from the Magdalen Islands. He spent the rest of the war in a Japanese prisoner-of-war camp. Released in 1945, he moved to Alberta the following year.
Like many vets of his generation, our grandfather spent much of his adult life saying very little about his experience during the war years.
He proudly put on his medals and marched with his fellow comrades in every Remembrance Day parade, but was largely silent around the details of his horrific journey as a prisoner of war.
Thankfully, later in life, Grandpa started to speak openly about what he saw, in an effort to share his experiences with family and younger generations and ensure they don’t forget the sacrifices made. It was not easy to hear. He lived through hell. He saw his buddies die. He ate little.
At 89 and living in Calgary, he is one of the remaining PoW vets. Many did not come close to the average life expectancy because of the treatment they endured while incarcerated. There, ruthlessness reigned.
In April, 1942, our grandfather, Hideo, and grandmother, Mitsue Sakamoto, both Canadian-born citizens, were stripped of their possessions and interned in southern Alberta.
Prior to the outbreak of hostilities, their lives were not all that different from ours today. They both grew up in Vancouver. Our grandmother went to high school during the day and Japanese class in the evening. Our great-grandfather was a successful fisherman and owned several vessels.
Hideo and Mitsue met in 1939 and married in January, 1942. They led happy, productive lives. They had running water, enjoyed family outings and were deeply rooted in their community. But the evacuation notice ended this life as they knew it.
Their government turned on them. Their friends outside the Japanese-Canadian community turned on them. They were outcasts in their own land. Families were torn apart and many were never reunited. As our grandparents boarded the train east to the cold Alberta prairie, they did not know what their fate held.
Here, too, ruthlessness reigned. They made their first home in a modified chicken coop. They worked day and night on a sugar-beet farm for subsistence wages. Their only crime was their ethnicity.
Two of their three children were born during the internment. They were allowed to leave at the end of the war, and by 1948, had saved enough money to move to Medicine Hat, Alta. At 91, Grandma Sakamoto is still alive and well.
Dignity was stolen, burdens shouldered and lives lost, on the battlefield and on the home front during the Second World War. Despite suffering such cruelties on both sides of the Pacific Ocean, our family instilled in us a deep sense of respect and understanding for ourselves and for others – not by preaching, but by living these values.
Our grandparents refused to pass on to their children resentment over the wrongs that had been committed against them. This is, above all, the legacy they bequeathed to their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
It is one of hope, of strength. This is what real forgiveness looks like.
In refusing to chain their children to the transgressions committed against them, they allowed our parents the freedom and privilege of an ordinary life. Our parents who, when they met in a high-school gymnasium in Medicine Hat, were not thinking about the fall of Hong Kong, or about evacuation orders and work camps.
They were simply two kids dancing to the Beatles and falling in love in 1967. They married in 1972.
That kind of forgiveness – the kind that makes life and love possible, even after the scars of war – is something no apology can guarantee, however sincere or hard-fought-for and won. This personal forgiveness is what allows the next generations to move on and live fulfilling and enriched lives. We are unspeakably grateful to our grandparents for this gift.
But while this meaningful exchange between two great nations is symbolically important, true forgiveness can only come from those who suffered, who bled, who lost all dignity during those dark days.
Without such forgiveness, we would never have been born.
On Christmas Day, 1941, our maternal grandfather, Ralph MacLean, was captured by Japanese forces during the fall of Hong Kong. He was an 18-year-old kid from the Magdalen Islands. He spent the rest of the war in a Japanese prisoner-of-war camp. Released in 1945, he moved to Alberta the following year.
Like many vets of his generation, our grandfather spent much of his adult life saying very little about his experience during the war years.
He proudly put on his medals and marched with his fellow comrades in every Remembrance Day parade, but was largely silent around the details of his horrific journey as a prisoner of war.
Thankfully, later in life, Grandpa started to speak openly about what he saw, in an effort to share his experiences with family and younger generations and ensure they don’t forget the sacrifices made. It was not easy to hear. He lived through hell. He saw his buddies die. He ate little.
At 89 and living in Calgary, he is one of the remaining PoW vets. Many did not come close to the average life expectancy because of the treatment they endured while incarcerated. There, ruthlessness reigned.
In April, 1942, our grandfather, Hideo, and grandmother, Mitsue Sakamoto, both Canadian-born citizens, were stripped of their possessions and interned in southern Alberta.
Prior to the outbreak of hostilities, their lives were not all that different from ours today. They both grew up in Vancouver. Our grandmother went to high school during the day and Japanese class in the evening. Our great-grandfather was a successful fisherman and owned several vessels.
Hideo and Mitsue met in 1939 and married in January, 1942. They led happy, productive lives. They had running water, enjoyed family outings and were deeply rooted in their community. But the evacuation notice ended this life as they knew it.
Their government turned on them. Their friends outside the Japanese-Canadian community turned on them. They were outcasts in their own land. Families were torn apart and many were never reunited. As our grandparents boarded the train east to the cold Alberta prairie, they did not know what their fate held.
Here, too, ruthlessness reigned. They made their first home in a modified chicken coop. They worked day and night on a sugar-beet farm for subsistence wages. Their only crime was their ethnicity.
Two of their three children were born during the internment. They were allowed to leave at the end of the war, and by 1948, had saved enough money to move to Medicine Hat, Alta. At 91, Grandma Sakamoto is still alive and well.
Dignity was stolen, burdens shouldered and lives lost, on the battlefield and on the home front during the Second World War. Despite suffering such cruelties on both sides of the Pacific Ocean, our family instilled in us a deep sense of respect and understanding for ourselves and for others – not by preaching, but by living these values.
Our grandparents refused to pass on to their children resentment over the wrongs that had been committed against them. This is, above all, the legacy they bequeathed to their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
It is one of hope, of strength. This is what real forgiveness looks like.
In refusing to chain their children to the transgressions committed against them, they allowed our parents the freedom and privilege of an ordinary life. Our parents who, when they met in a high-school gymnasium in Medicine Hat, were not thinking about the fall of Hong Kong, or about evacuation orders and work camps.
They were simply two kids dancing to the Beatles and falling in love in 1967. They married in 1972.
That kind of forgiveness – the kind that makes life and love possible, even after the scars of war – is something no apology can guarantee, however sincere or hard-fought-for and won. This personal forgiveness is what allows the next generations to move on and live fulfilling and enriched lives. We are unspeakably grateful to our grandparents for this gift.
2011年12月22日星期四
Tampa's 'Exploding Chicken' sculpture set for new roost
Within months the so-called "Exploding Chicken" sculpture, which roosted downtown for 22 years, will be settled in its new home at the Channel District roundabout.
"I would anticipate that the bird will find his permanent roost early next year," said Bob McDonaugh, the city's acting administrator for economic development. "After it's erected then it will be repainted and dedicated."
The 19-ton, 36-foot-tall piece officially known as the untitled George Sugarman sculpture flew the coop from Ashley Drive in April 2010.
Volunteers – including members of a local steelworkers union – disassembled the sculpture. It was lifted by a crane onto flatbed trailers and taken to Gulf Marine Repair Corp. for safekeeping while new accommodations were readied.
The original principal tenant of Rivergate Tower, NCNB National Bank of Florida, commissioned the sculptor's work in 1988. In 2005, when the distinctive riverfront cylindrical building at 400 N. Ashley Drive was sold to American Capital Partners of Miami, the new owner donated the sculpture to the city.
McDonaugh said he wanted to make sure it didn't disappear.
"It's a recognizable Tampa icon," he said. "People like it; they're fond of it."
The sculpture's foundation is under construction and will be completed in the next few weeks, McDonaugh said.
Asked about the sculpture, Mayor Bob Buckhorn said, "I'm the last person to ask his opinion on art because I'm barely qualified to offer one. But it's a conversation piece. … If people are making fun of it, that means they're talking about it."
The abstract piece was given its popular nickname by longtime Tampa Tribune columnist Steve Otto.
Otto was excited to learn the chicken's return is imminent.
"I'm sure they're doing it for the Republican Convention – for the national exposure that it's going to bring the city," he said.
"I would anticipate that the bird will find his permanent roost early next year," said Bob McDonaugh, the city's acting administrator for economic development. "After it's erected then it will be repainted and dedicated."
The 19-ton, 36-foot-tall piece officially known as the untitled George Sugarman sculpture flew the coop from Ashley Drive in April 2010.
Volunteers – including members of a local steelworkers union – disassembled the sculpture. It was lifted by a crane onto flatbed trailers and taken to Gulf Marine Repair Corp. for safekeeping while new accommodations were readied.
The original principal tenant of Rivergate Tower, NCNB National Bank of Florida, commissioned the sculptor's work in 1988. In 2005, when the distinctive riverfront cylindrical building at 400 N. Ashley Drive was sold to American Capital Partners of Miami, the new owner donated the sculpture to the city.
McDonaugh said he wanted to make sure it didn't disappear.
"It's a recognizable Tampa icon," he said. "People like it; they're fond of it."
The sculpture's foundation is under construction and will be completed in the next few weeks, McDonaugh said.
Asked about the sculpture, Mayor Bob Buckhorn said, "I'm the last person to ask his opinion on art because I'm barely qualified to offer one. But it's a conversation piece. … If people are making fun of it, that means they're talking about it."
The abstract piece was given its popular nickname by longtime Tampa Tribune columnist Steve Otto.
Otto was excited to learn the chicken's return is imminent.
"I'm sure they're doing it for the Republican Convention – for the national exposure that it's going to bring the city," he said.
2011年12月21日星期三
A roost of one's own - now available in Muncie
Muncie might not be a major automaker anymore, but we've established a toehold in another key manufacturing domain.
Chicken coops.
Brook Linton, who runs Solid State LLC out of a cavernous 90-year-old warehouse on the city's near south side, recently explained what got him into it.
"Nobody around here was doing it," he said. "Nobody was making chicken coops. A lot of people are getting into chickens again."
Tall and lanky, Linton was bundled against the cold air flowing through his drafty building at 800 S. Liberty St. last week. As he talked, everywhere you looked in its western end were stacks of old doors, tumbled sinks and bath tubs, framed windows reclaimed from walls and felled porch posts waiting to rise again.
All this, he noted, was salvaged from old houses razed over the past couple years.
Can't find an eight-foot door? This is your place.
"All the components of the house, we resell them," Linton said. "A lot of people who can't find anything in the box stores come here."
It was at the far eastern end of the warehouse, though, where employee John Halsey was hard at work, building a new chicken coop from recycled wood.
"We have a pretty set pattern," Linton noted, of his coops' design.
The young businessman launched this part of his enterprise about eight months ago. Halsey was working on the seventh coop, and four have been sold. A couple of the others sat outside the warehouse, looking like big doll houses, their weathered blue and yellow paint schemes determined by the color of the reclaimed wood that went into their manufacture.
"We really don't paint them," Linton said. "Whatever reclaimed color the wood is, that's on the walls."
So, what will a chicken coop cost you?
If you'd like the large coop, one that as many as 25 chickens would be proud to call home, it will be about $1,000.
On the other hand, if you are more of a 10-chicken man (or woman), that will run you only about $550.
The smaller coop, by the way, was specially designed with ease of hauling in mind, Linton said, it being small enough to fit in the bed of a compact S-10 Chevy pickup truck.
Of course, if your chicken ambitions far exceed 10 or even 25 fowl, don't despair.
"We can make bigger coops," Linton said. "It's custom sized."
By the way, each coop contains a roost inside.
"That's because chickens like to sleep up off the ground," Linton explained, just that quickly doubling the scope of this reporter's chicken knowledge.
Who are the folks buying his chicken coops? It's probably too early to have accurately identified a market demographic yet, but he said one customer was a new retiree.
"He just wanted something to do," he said.
More power to folks like that, he continued, and their dreams of raising chickens.
"We're hoping that it catches on," Linton said.
Chicken coops.
Brook Linton, who runs Solid State LLC out of a cavernous 90-year-old warehouse on the city's near south side, recently explained what got him into it.
"Nobody around here was doing it," he said. "Nobody was making chicken coops. A lot of people are getting into chickens again."
Tall and lanky, Linton was bundled against the cold air flowing through his drafty building at 800 S. Liberty St. last week. As he talked, everywhere you looked in its western end were stacks of old doors, tumbled sinks and bath tubs, framed windows reclaimed from walls and felled porch posts waiting to rise again.
All this, he noted, was salvaged from old houses razed over the past couple years.
Can't find an eight-foot door? This is your place.
"All the components of the house, we resell them," Linton said. "A lot of people who can't find anything in the box stores come here."
It was at the far eastern end of the warehouse, though, where employee John Halsey was hard at work, building a new chicken coop from recycled wood.
"We have a pretty set pattern," Linton noted, of his coops' design.
The young businessman launched this part of his enterprise about eight months ago. Halsey was working on the seventh coop, and four have been sold. A couple of the others sat outside the warehouse, looking like big doll houses, their weathered blue and yellow paint schemes determined by the color of the reclaimed wood that went into their manufacture.
"We really don't paint them," Linton said. "Whatever reclaimed color the wood is, that's on the walls."
So, what will a chicken coop cost you?
If you'd like the large coop, one that as many as 25 chickens would be proud to call home, it will be about $1,000.
On the other hand, if you are more of a 10-chicken man (or woman), that will run you only about $550.
The smaller coop, by the way, was specially designed with ease of hauling in mind, Linton said, it being small enough to fit in the bed of a compact S-10 Chevy pickup truck.
Of course, if your chicken ambitions far exceed 10 or even 25 fowl, don't despair.
"We can make bigger coops," Linton said. "It's custom sized."
By the way, each coop contains a roost inside.
"That's because chickens like to sleep up off the ground," Linton explained, just that quickly doubling the scope of this reporter's chicken knowledge.
Who are the folks buying his chicken coops? It's probably too early to have accurately identified a market demographic yet, but he said one customer was a new retiree.
"He just wanted something to do," he said.
More power to folks like that, he continued, and their dreams of raising chickens.
"We're hoping that it catches on," Linton said.
2011年12月20日星期二
A roost of one's own
Muncie might not be a major automaker anymore, but we've established a toehold in another key manufacturing domain.
Chicken coops.
Brook Linton, who runs Solid State LLC out of a cavernous 90-year-old warehouse on the city's near south side, recently explained what got him into it.
"Nobody around here was doing it," he said. "Nobody was making chicken coops. A lot of people are getting into chickens again."
Tall and lanky, Linton was bundled against the cold air flowing through his drafty building at 800 S. Liberty St. last week. As he talked, everywhere you looked in its western end were stacks of old doors, tumbled sinks and bath tubs, framed windows reclaimed from walls and felled porch posts waiting to rise again.
All this, he noted, was salvaged from old houses razed over the past couple years.
Can't find an eight-foot door? This is your place.
"All the components of the house, we resell them," Linton said. "A lot of people who can't find anything in the box stores come here."
It was at the far eastern end of the warehouse, though, where employee John Halsey was hard at work, building a new chicken coop from recycled wood.
"We have a pretty set pattern," Linton noted, of his coops' design.
The young businessman launched this part of his enterprise about eight months ago. Halsey was working on the seventh coop, and four have been sold. A couple of the others sat outside the warehouse, looking like big doll houses, their weathered blue and yellow paint schemes determined by the color of the reclaimed wood that went into their manufacture.
"We really don't paint them," Linton said. "Whatever reclaimed color the wood is, that's on the walls."
So, what will a chicken coop cost you?
If you'd like the large coop, one that as many as 25 chickens would be proud to call home, it will be about $1,000.
On the other hand, if you are more of a 10-chicken man (or woman), that will run you only about $550.
The smaller coop, by the way, was specially designed with ease of hauling in mind, Linton said, it being small enough to fit in the bed of a compact S-10 Chevy pickup truck.
Of course, if your chicken ambitions far exceed 10 or even 25 fowl, don't despair.
"We can make bigger coops," Linton said. "It's custom sized."
By the way, each coop contains a roost inside.
"That's because chickens like to sleep up off the ground," Linton explained, just that quickly doubling the scope of this reporter's chicken knowledge.
Who are the folks buying his chicken coops? It's probably too early to have accurately identified a market demographic yet, but he said one customer was a new retiree.
"He just wanted something to do," he said.
More power to folks like that, he continued, and their dreams of raising chickens.
"We're hoping that it catches on," Linton said.
Chicken coops.
Brook Linton, who runs Solid State LLC out of a cavernous 90-year-old warehouse on the city's near south side, recently explained what got him into it.
"Nobody around here was doing it," he said. "Nobody was making chicken coops. A lot of people are getting into chickens again."
Tall and lanky, Linton was bundled against the cold air flowing through his drafty building at 800 S. Liberty St. last week. As he talked, everywhere you looked in its western end were stacks of old doors, tumbled sinks and bath tubs, framed windows reclaimed from walls and felled porch posts waiting to rise again.
All this, he noted, was salvaged from old houses razed over the past couple years.
Can't find an eight-foot door? This is your place.
"All the components of the house, we resell them," Linton said. "A lot of people who can't find anything in the box stores come here."
It was at the far eastern end of the warehouse, though, where employee John Halsey was hard at work, building a new chicken coop from recycled wood.
"We have a pretty set pattern," Linton noted, of his coops' design.
The young businessman launched this part of his enterprise about eight months ago. Halsey was working on the seventh coop, and four have been sold. A couple of the others sat outside the warehouse, looking like big doll houses, their weathered blue and yellow paint schemes determined by the color of the reclaimed wood that went into their manufacture.
"We really don't paint them," Linton said. "Whatever reclaimed color the wood is, that's on the walls."
So, what will a chicken coop cost you?
If you'd like the large coop, one that as many as 25 chickens would be proud to call home, it will be about $1,000.
On the other hand, if you are more of a 10-chicken man (or woman), that will run you only about $550.
The smaller coop, by the way, was specially designed with ease of hauling in mind, Linton said, it being small enough to fit in the bed of a compact S-10 Chevy pickup truck.
Of course, if your chicken ambitions far exceed 10 or even 25 fowl, don't despair.
"We can make bigger coops," Linton said. "It's custom sized."
By the way, each coop contains a roost inside.
"That's because chickens like to sleep up off the ground," Linton explained, just that quickly doubling the scope of this reporter's chicken knowledge.
Who are the folks buying his chicken coops? It's probably too early to have accurately identified a market demographic yet, but he said one customer was a new retiree.
"He just wanted something to do," he said.
More power to folks like that, he continued, and their dreams of raising chickens.
"We're hoping that it catches on," Linton said.
2011年12月19日星期一
Attacks by radical settlers on Israeli army spark debate
Charred tires and boulders pushed to the sides of the road leading to Yitzhar, a West Bank Jewish community near Nablus, were among the signs that residents had made an effort to prevent Israeli soldiers and police from entering the settlement. Patches of grease stains -- remnants of the lubricants that had been poured on the narrow road to induce army jeeps, police sedans and backhoes to lose traction -- were others.
It seems that if not for the influence of the late Lubavitcher rebbe, there might have been more resistance, not just the blockades and grease on the road last Thursday night, according to an account of the events related by Avraham Binyamin, the settlement’s spokesman to JTA during a visit Sunday.
"It is not our way to stand by passively while such a brutal act is perpetrated," said Binyamin, a tall, bespectacled young man with a full beard, sidelocks and a large knitted yarmulke, pointing to the ruins of a home and a chicken coop destroyed under government orders for being built on land said to belong to Palestinians.
"But we honored the wishes of the man who owns the land here and did not attempt to resist the destruction," he added, "at least not in the vicinity of his property."
The man who Binyamin said owns the land is affiliated with a stream of Chabad Chasidism that believes the deceased Lubavitcher rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson, will return as messiah. In this milieu, it is customary to "ask" the rebbe for his advice by randomly placing a question written on a piece of paper inside a compendium of Schneerson's letters. In this case, according to Binyamin, the "answer" given by the rebbe via one of his old letters was, "Don't fight, concentrate on building."
The willingness of Yitzhar residents to respect a dead rabbi's command -- one they believe came from the grave -- but ignore an order by the government of Israel is instructive. So was Binyamin's caveat that there would be no violence "in the vicinity."
Just hours after the destruction of the house, located on a hilltop adjacent to Yitzhar known as Mitzpeh Yitzhar, arsonists torched a mosque in Burqa, a village about four miles east of Ramallah -- a half-hour drive from Yitzhar. The desecrators spray-painted the words "war" and "Mitzpeh Yitzhar" on the wall of the mosque.
It was just one in a chain of violent vigilante attacks. In the past few years, radical right-wing activists, representing a growing fringe, have pursued a campaign they call "price tag" to avenge perceived injustices meted out against them by the Israeli government, such as the demolition on Mitzpeh Yitzhar.
Mosques have been burned and desecrated with graffiti such as "Muhammad is a pig," Palestinian olive trees have been slashed and burned, and other Palestinian property has been damaged. Vandals also have targeted property belonging to Israeli security forces.
But a red line was crossed in recent days.
Shortly after midnight on Dec. 13, settler radicals -- often referred to as "hilltop youths" because they tend to be young and live on small, isolated outposts -- stormed into an Israeli base in the northern West Bank. They burned tires and vandalized army vehicles, throwing stones and paint at them.
Elsewhere in the northern West Bank, settlers also attacked and lightly wounded an Israeli army commander when they forced open the door of his jeep and hurled a brick at him.
These attacks on the Israel Defense Forces -- one of Israel’s most revered institutions and one to which Israeli families must entrust their sons and daughters -- appalled Israelis and sparked intense debate over how best to combat lawlessness in the West Bank.
Political leaders on the left and center argued that the current government's ideological affinity with the settler movement impaired its ability to crack down on the violence.
Tzipi Livni, Knesset opposition leader and head of the Kadima Party, said in a statement that “this government … is laying fertile ground for these tumors. When Netanyahu says that we are dealing with rioters and not ideological crime, it indicates one of two things -- either he doesn’t understand what is happening here, or he doesn’t want to deal with this extremist ideology because of his natural coalition partners."
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and other government coalition members have come out strongly and repeatedly against the vigilante violence. Netanyahu said it must be combated with "a heavy hand."
However, the Netanyahu government continues to support settlement growth; just last week, Israeli Defense Minister Ehud Barak approved a a new neighborhood in the Gush Etzion settlement bloc, near Bethlehem.
This week, the whips of all the political parties in the governing coalition except Barak’s Independence faction supported a bill to prevent the demolition of Jewish homes thought to be built on private Palestinian property, like the one destroyed in Mitzpeh Yitzhar.
It seems that if not for the influence of the late Lubavitcher rebbe, there might have been more resistance, not just the blockades and grease on the road last Thursday night, according to an account of the events related by Avraham Binyamin, the settlement’s spokesman to JTA during a visit Sunday.
"It is not our way to stand by passively while such a brutal act is perpetrated," said Binyamin, a tall, bespectacled young man with a full beard, sidelocks and a large knitted yarmulke, pointing to the ruins of a home and a chicken coop destroyed under government orders for being built on land said to belong to Palestinians.
"But we honored the wishes of the man who owns the land here and did not attempt to resist the destruction," he added, "at least not in the vicinity of his property."
The man who Binyamin said owns the land is affiliated with a stream of Chabad Chasidism that believes the deceased Lubavitcher rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson, will return as messiah. In this milieu, it is customary to "ask" the rebbe for his advice by randomly placing a question written on a piece of paper inside a compendium of Schneerson's letters. In this case, according to Binyamin, the "answer" given by the rebbe via one of his old letters was, "Don't fight, concentrate on building."
The willingness of Yitzhar residents to respect a dead rabbi's command -- one they believe came from the grave -- but ignore an order by the government of Israel is instructive. So was Binyamin's caveat that there would be no violence "in the vicinity."
Just hours after the destruction of the house, located on a hilltop adjacent to Yitzhar known as Mitzpeh Yitzhar, arsonists torched a mosque in Burqa, a village about four miles east of Ramallah -- a half-hour drive from Yitzhar. The desecrators spray-painted the words "war" and "Mitzpeh Yitzhar" on the wall of the mosque.
It was just one in a chain of violent vigilante attacks. In the past few years, radical right-wing activists, representing a growing fringe, have pursued a campaign they call "price tag" to avenge perceived injustices meted out against them by the Israeli government, such as the demolition on Mitzpeh Yitzhar.
Mosques have been burned and desecrated with graffiti such as "Muhammad is a pig," Palestinian olive trees have been slashed and burned, and other Palestinian property has been damaged. Vandals also have targeted property belonging to Israeli security forces.
But a red line was crossed in recent days.
Shortly after midnight on Dec. 13, settler radicals -- often referred to as "hilltop youths" because they tend to be young and live on small, isolated outposts -- stormed into an Israeli base in the northern West Bank. They burned tires and vandalized army vehicles, throwing stones and paint at them.
Elsewhere in the northern West Bank, settlers also attacked and lightly wounded an Israeli army commander when they forced open the door of his jeep and hurled a brick at him.
These attacks on the Israel Defense Forces -- one of Israel’s most revered institutions and one to which Israeli families must entrust their sons and daughters -- appalled Israelis and sparked intense debate over how best to combat lawlessness in the West Bank.
Political leaders on the left and center argued that the current government's ideological affinity with the settler movement impaired its ability to crack down on the violence.
Tzipi Livni, Knesset opposition leader and head of the Kadima Party, said in a statement that “this government … is laying fertile ground for these tumors. When Netanyahu says that we are dealing with rioters and not ideological crime, it indicates one of two things -- either he doesn’t understand what is happening here, or he doesn’t want to deal with this extremist ideology because of his natural coalition partners."
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and other government coalition members have come out strongly and repeatedly against the vigilante violence. Netanyahu said it must be combated with "a heavy hand."
However, the Netanyahu government continues to support settlement growth; just last week, Israeli Defense Minister Ehud Barak approved a a new neighborhood in the Gush Etzion settlement bloc, near Bethlehem.
This week, the whips of all the political parties in the governing coalition except Barak’s Independence faction supported a bill to prevent the demolition of Jewish homes thought to be built on private Palestinian property, like the one destroyed in Mitzpeh Yitzhar.
2011年12月18日星期日
Israel, wake up and smell the coffee
If I could, I'd send a modest bouquet of flowers as a gesture of thanks for the work of the rioters - the ones who infiltrated the Ephraim Brigade base in the West Bank last week. They achieved, at least for a moment, what others had failed to do: stir Israeli public opinion and maybe even the army and government against the West Bank settlers.
Good morning, Israel. You've woken up? Years of rioting against Palestinians, uprooting of trees, vandalism, arson, destruction, dispossession, theft, rocks and axes didn't cause a ripple here. But one rock to the head of a deputy brigade commander, Lt. Col. Tzur Harpaz, made all the difference.
An all-out riot. Jewish terrorism. There are militias in the West Bank, settler-terrorists in a no-man's-land. And all this due to a rock that drew a few drops of sacred Jewish blood.
Here they are again: arrogance and nationalist ideology. How is it possible that terrorism has arisen from the Chosen People? How could a few drops of blood from one person shock more than streams of other people's blood? How did the rock that scratched Harpaz's forehead reverberate immeasurably more than the teargas canister that ripped through the forehead of Palestinian Mustafa Tamimi, killed four days earlier by soldiers from the army Harpaz serves in?
No, the right wing's hilltop youth haven't endangered the State of Israel. They haven't even distorted its image, as it's now popular to proclaim. What do you want from them? They've been made accustomed to think that anything goes. Enough with the self-righteous clucking of tongues. Enough with the "condemnations" and expressions of bogus and belated shock. There is nothing new under the sun when it comes to the settlers. It's not a "new level" of activity, and it doesn't involve the crossing of "red lines." The only line that has been crossed, perhaps, is the line of apathy.
We've been reporting for years about the settlers' misdeeds, week after week. We've recounted how they have threatened Palestinians, hit their children on their way to school, thrown garbage at their mothers, turned dogs on elderly Palestinians, abducted shepherds, stolen livestock, embittered their lives day and night, hill and vale, invading and taking over. And it never touched a soul.
Now all of a sudden there is shock. Good morning, Israel. Why? What happened? You can't chastise those young people after years of not only apathy toward their parents' misdeeds but also the warm embrace of most of society and sweeping support from the IDF and every Israeli government. You can't speak about them as brother-pioneers, give them huge budget allocations, promise they'll be allowed to remain where they are forever, view them as a legitimate, not to say principled, segment of society, and then suddenly turn your back on them, condemning and attacking them. And all due to a rock.
You can't change the rules that way, one fine day. And the rules were set long ago: It's their land, the land of the settlers; they're the masters of it and can do anything there. Only a distorted double standard would permit a change in the rules due to a minor injury to the Israel Defense Forces. Only in the name of a distorted double standard could you be shocked about the recent acts, which were by no means the most serious or cruel.
Of course Israel has the right (and duty ) to change the rules, but such a change must be revolutionary and be carried out across the settlement enterprise, halting it entirely and changing the illegal, unethical and intolerable reality that exists in our backyard. The government isn't interested in such a change. The IDF isn't either, and it's doubtful most Israelis want such a change. But anything less than that is hollow lip service, nothing more than a small wave on the hull of this decades-long enterprise.
Until that happens, let's leave them alone. There's no point evacuating a chicken coop at the Mitzpeh Yitzhar outpost while the settlement of Efrat is lapping at the edge of Bethlehem. There's no point waging war against the "illegal" outposts while the "legal" settlement of Ofra has been built on stolen land. And there's no point issuing restraining orders to keep out a clutch of rioters while it never occurs to Israel to issue similar orders against all their brethren.
The violent demonstrators at the Ephraim Brigade base are the opposite of anarchists, as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu called them. They just want to preserve the existing order, just as most Israelis, led by the prime minister, do. Flowers for the rioters? On second thought, they haven't done a thing.
Good morning, Israel. You've woken up? Years of rioting against Palestinians, uprooting of trees, vandalism, arson, destruction, dispossession, theft, rocks and axes didn't cause a ripple here. But one rock to the head of a deputy brigade commander, Lt. Col. Tzur Harpaz, made all the difference.
An all-out riot. Jewish terrorism. There are militias in the West Bank, settler-terrorists in a no-man's-land. And all this due to a rock that drew a few drops of sacred Jewish blood.
Here they are again: arrogance and nationalist ideology. How is it possible that terrorism has arisen from the Chosen People? How could a few drops of blood from one person shock more than streams of other people's blood? How did the rock that scratched Harpaz's forehead reverberate immeasurably more than the teargas canister that ripped through the forehead of Palestinian Mustafa Tamimi, killed four days earlier by soldiers from the army Harpaz serves in?
No, the right wing's hilltop youth haven't endangered the State of Israel. They haven't even distorted its image, as it's now popular to proclaim. What do you want from them? They've been made accustomed to think that anything goes. Enough with the self-righteous clucking of tongues. Enough with the "condemnations" and expressions of bogus and belated shock. There is nothing new under the sun when it comes to the settlers. It's not a "new level" of activity, and it doesn't involve the crossing of "red lines." The only line that has been crossed, perhaps, is the line of apathy.
We've been reporting for years about the settlers' misdeeds, week after week. We've recounted how they have threatened Palestinians, hit their children on their way to school, thrown garbage at their mothers, turned dogs on elderly Palestinians, abducted shepherds, stolen livestock, embittered their lives day and night, hill and vale, invading and taking over. And it never touched a soul.
Now all of a sudden there is shock. Good morning, Israel. Why? What happened? You can't chastise those young people after years of not only apathy toward their parents' misdeeds but also the warm embrace of most of society and sweeping support from the IDF and every Israeli government. You can't speak about them as brother-pioneers, give them huge budget allocations, promise they'll be allowed to remain where they are forever, view them as a legitimate, not to say principled, segment of society, and then suddenly turn your back on them, condemning and attacking them. And all due to a rock.
You can't change the rules that way, one fine day. And the rules were set long ago: It's their land, the land of the settlers; they're the masters of it and can do anything there. Only a distorted double standard would permit a change in the rules due to a minor injury to the Israel Defense Forces. Only in the name of a distorted double standard could you be shocked about the recent acts, which were by no means the most serious or cruel.
Of course Israel has the right (and duty ) to change the rules, but such a change must be revolutionary and be carried out across the settlement enterprise, halting it entirely and changing the illegal, unethical and intolerable reality that exists in our backyard. The government isn't interested in such a change. The IDF isn't either, and it's doubtful most Israelis want such a change. But anything less than that is hollow lip service, nothing more than a small wave on the hull of this decades-long enterprise.
Until that happens, let's leave them alone. There's no point evacuating a chicken coop at the Mitzpeh Yitzhar outpost while the settlement of Efrat is lapping at the edge of Bethlehem. There's no point waging war against the "illegal" outposts while the "legal" settlement of Ofra has been built on stolen land. And there's no point issuing restraining orders to keep out a clutch of rioters while it never occurs to Israel to issue similar orders against all their brethren.
The violent demonstrators at the Ephraim Brigade base are the opposite of anarchists, as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu called them. They just want to preserve the existing order, just as most Israelis, led by the prime minister, do. Flowers for the rioters? On second thought, they haven't done a thing.
2011年12月15日星期四
We won’t let extremists spark a war
A group of far-right activists is assumed to have targeted the mosque, near Ramallah, in a “price-tag” attack in retribution for IDF actions carried out at the same time, when soldiers demolished a home and a chicken coop at the unauthorized Mitzpe Yitzhar outpost near Nablus.
After they broke into the mosque in the Burka village, the vandals lit a fire in the women’s prayer section on the top floor. The blaze was extinguished before it spread to the rest of the structure.
The vandals also spray-painted red Hebrew words on an interior wall: “Mitpze Yitzhar” and “war.” Graffiti with the words “price tag” were written on the mosque’s exterior wall.
Later in the morning, angry Palestinians threw rocks at police who tried to enter Burka to investigate the attack.
“It was impossible to go inside,” police spokeswoman Nurit Tzemah said. “We had intended to collect samples from the crime scene.”
Police plan to either enter the village at a later date or use photos from the scene taken by the Civil Administration of Judea and Samaria.
Palestinians also stoned two Israeli buses, lightly wounding two child passengers near Ramallah and a woman on a bus near Kalkilya.
Separately, a 23-year-old Israeli was arrested by the IDF after allegedly being caught spray-painting graffiti such as “Nazi” and “price tag” on concrete blocks surrounding an army position in Samaria.
The incidents further inflamed tensions in the West Bank, which were already high after three price-tag attacks late on Monday night and early on Tuesday morning, in which Jewish activists vandalized an army base, assaulted two IDF commanders and breached the security fence with Jordan.
The price-tag attacks sparked fierce debate among politicians, rabbis and settlement leaders, with Defense Minister Ehud Barak calling for the extremists to be treated as terrorists.
Netanyahu rejected that call but came down harshly on the extremists. He ordered that they be tried in military courts and that administrative detentions be used against them.
On Thursday night, the prime minister was careful to distinguish between the pricetag vandals and the settlers as a whole, most of whom, he said, were “loyal” and “law abiding” citizens.
As for the extremists, however, he was less sanguine.
“We will act with a strong hand and make sure they’re prosecuted. The law is the law. Justice is justice,” Netanyahu told the Likud central committee.
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s people who attack our security forces in the Ephraim Brigade base or in [the Palestinian village of] Bil’in,” he said.
But in the Mitzpe Yitzhar outpost, located on the outskirts of the Yitzhar settlement, settlers looking at the debris of the small modular home that had been demolished at dawn said it was the IDF that had launched a war against them.
Settlers were careful to explain that they did not condone attacks on the army. They said incidents took place within a context in which the IDF was acting as if they were the enemy by destroying settler homes.
“They are trying to demonize us,” Yitzhar resident Yoel Noiman said as he stood by the debris of the home where a young man had hoped to start a new life with his bride in another month.
The people who live here are in danger from both the Palestinians and the IDF, said Noiman, who said he had been shot at by Palestinians three times as he drove in the West Bank.
When his children see a policeman, “they want to know, is this a good officer or a bad one,” he said.
After two or three nights of warnings, the soldiers sneaked into Mitzpe Yitzhar around 3:30 a.m., he told The Jerusalem Post. Activists who placed burning tires, barbed wire, stones and oil on the road leading to Yitzhar could not stop them.
Settlers learned that the soldiers were coming less than an hour before they surrounded the small caravan.
As Noiman’s daughter, Tiferet, eight, searched through the ruins, he described how the soldiers had sneaked up the hill on foot, through the adjacent Palestinian village.
Noiman had trouble reaching the home set for demolition because soldiers and border policemen kept stopping him. At one point they grabbed him roughly and in another they knocked his glasses off, breaking them.
Noiman said that he now wore a spare pair.
The security forces took almost everything out of the home and then brought cranes at around 5:40 to knock it down, he said.
According to Yitzhar spokesman Avraham Binyamin, the security personnel also destroyed a chicken coop. Roosters and chickens wandered loose through the debris.
“There were no significant confrontations or arrests,” police spokeswoman Tzemah said.
The state had promised the High Court of Justice that it would remove the two structures by the end of December because they are located on land classified by the state as belonging to individual Palestinians. Peace Now had petitioned the court to enforce the law in this matter.
The state, however, did not move against the other five homes at the outpost because, it said, they were on state land.
After they broke into the mosque in the Burka village, the vandals lit a fire in the women’s prayer section on the top floor. The blaze was extinguished before it spread to the rest of the structure.
The vandals also spray-painted red Hebrew words on an interior wall: “Mitpze Yitzhar” and “war.” Graffiti with the words “price tag” were written on the mosque’s exterior wall.
Later in the morning, angry Palestinians threw rocks at police who tried to enter Burka to investigate the attack.
“It was impossible to go inside,” police spokeswoman Nurit Tzemah said. “We had intended to collect samples from the crime scene.”
Police plan to either enter the village at a later date or use photos from the scene taken by the Civil Administration of Judea and Samaria.
Palestinians also stoned two Israeli buses, lightly wounding two child passengers near Ramallah and a woman on a bus near Kalkilya.
Separately, a 23-year-old Israeli was arrested by the IDF after allegedly being caught spray-painting graffiti such as “Nazi” and “price tag” on concrete blocks surrounding an army position in Samaria.
The incidents further inflamed tensions in the West Bank, which were already high after three price-tag attacks late on Monday night and early on Tuesday morning, in which Jewish activists vandalized an army base, assaulted two IDF commanders and breached the security fence with Jordan.
The price-tag attacks sparked fierce debate among politicians, rabbis and settlement leaders, with Defense Minister Ehud Barak calling for the extremists to be treated as terrorists.
Netanyahu rejected that call but came down harshly on the extremists. He ordered that they be tried in military courts and that administrative detentions be used against them.
On Thursday night, the prime minister was careful to distinguish between the pricetag vandals and the settlers as a whole, most of whom, he said, were “loyal” and “law abiding” citizens.
As for the extremists, however, he was less sanguine.
“We will act with a strong hand and make sure they’re prosecuted. The law is the law. Justice is justice,” Netanyahu told the Likud central committee.
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s people who attack our security forces in the Ephraim Brigade base or in [the Palestinian village of] Bil’in,” he said.
But in the Mitzpe Yitzhar outpost, located on the outskirts of the Yitzhar settlement, settlers looking at the debris of the small modular home that had been demolished at dawn said it was the IDF that had launched a war against them.
Settlers were careful to explain that they did not condone attacks on the army. They said incidents took place within a context in which the IDF was acting as if they were the enemy by destroying settler homes.
“They are trying to demonize us,” Yitzhar resident Yoel Noiman said as he stood by the debris of the home where a young man had hoped to start a new life with his bride in another month.
The people who live here are in danger from both the Palestinians and the IDF, said Noiman, who said he had been shot at by Palestinians three times as he drove in the West Bank.
When his children see a policeman, “they want to know, is this a good officer or a bad one,” he said.
After two or three nights of warnings, the soldiers sneaked into Mitzpe Yitzhar around 3:30 a.m., he told The Jerusalem Post. Activists who placed burning tires, barbed wire, stones and oil on the road leading to Yitzhar could not stop them.
Settlers learned that the soldiers were coming less than an hour before they surrounded the small caravan.
As Noiman’s daughter, Tiferet, eight, searched through the ruins, he described how the soldiers had sneaked up the hill on foot, through the adjacent Palestinian village.
Noiman had trouble reaching the home set for demolition because soldiers and border policemen kept stopping him. At one point they grabbed him roughly and in another they knocked his glasses off, breaking them.
Noiman said that he now wore a spare pair.
The security forces took almost everything out of the home and then brought cranes at around 5:40 to knock it down, he said.
According to Yitzhar spokesman Avraham Binyamin, the security personnel also destroyed a chicken coop. Roosters and chickens wandered loose through the debris.
“There were no significant confrontations or arrests,” police spokeswoman Tzemah said.
The state had promised the High Court of Justice that it would remove the two structures by the end of December because they are located on land classified by the state as belonging to individual Palestinians. Peace Now had petitioned the court to enforce the law in this matter.
The state, however, did not move against the other five homes at the outpost because, it said, they were on state land.
2011年12月14日星期三
Chickens not allowed to cross road into Prairie du Sac backyards
The Mack family in Prairie du Sac wanted chickens for several reasons: as a source of fresh eggs, to further the family's commitment to local food and to complement their backyard garden.
"Our neighbors in Madison had chickens," said Jennifer Mack. "That could've been what planted the idea."
Allowing backyard chickens "is something a lot of metro areas do," she said, but a couple of months after the family began raising five hens in a coop on their property on Fifth Street, an officer knocked at their door telling them the chickens needed to be gone within two weeks.
In the village of Prairie du Sac, as well as in Sauk City, chickens are not allowed within village limits.
Prairie du Sac Village Administrator Alan Wildman said someone in Mack's neighborhood called the village about the family's chickens and he forwarded the complaint to the police department.
"That ordinance was recently redone in June of 2009," Wildman said. "They looked at not just chickens, but all livestock and different animals being raised."
Mack has contacted the village board about taking a new look at the ordinance, but Wildman said it will be up to the board whether it does so. Wildman said this is the first time a complaint related to raising chickens has come across his desk.
Mack, her husband and two young children have lived in Prairie du Sac for almost 18 months, and she said when they decided to get the chickens their friends told them the animals were allowed in the village.
"We kind of just went by word of mouth," Mack said. "Everyone said they're allowed in Prairie but not in Sauk."
Sam Mack, Jennifer's husband, said that from driving around and talking to people, he knows there are residents in both villages who also are raising chickens.
Sauk Prairie Police Chief Jerry Strunz said such complaints are "sporadic," and the police deal with such residential-property issues on a by-complaint basis.
Across the country, raising backyard chickens is a growing trend, especially during a recession when people are looking for ways to cut food costs and be more self-sufficient. A quick Google search reveals a plethora of resources for people interested in raising backyard chickens, and numerous national publications that have published articles about their increasing popularity.
Chickens also are allowed in nearby communities such as Baraboo and Middleton.
"We've allowed them for several years," Middleton Assistant Planning Director Mark Opitz. He added, "There's quite a bit of interest in it. I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a dozen people raising chickens in Middleton."
Middleton's village ordinance allows residents to raise hens as long as they don't become a nuisance. Opitz said the only complaint he recalls is from a resident who thought his neighbor was keeping a rooster, which is not allowed.
The city of Baraboo has allowed chickens for nearly two years, and according to the city's finance director and city clerk Cheryl Giese, the ordinance hasn't caused any problems or complaints.
Under Baraboo's ordinance, a resident may have six hens. Residents must submit plans for a chicken coop for municipal review and pay $25 for a permit with a $10 annual renewal.
The village of Prairie du Sac does allow residents to have up to four rabbits, which the Macks also raise in their backyard in structures similar to their chicken coops.
Jennifer said she hopes the village reconsiders allowing chickens, in part because her children like having them, and she said she worries about integrating them into a nearby farm where they'll be at the bottom of the pecking order.
She said she planned to attend the village board meeting that took place last night after the Eagle's deadline.
"We've been here not quite 1 years, and I already feel like we're causing trouble," she said.
Sam said he'll take the chickens to a nearby farm this weekend, and if the village changes its ordinance, he said he can always get them back.
"We're not here to ruffle any feathers," he said.
"Our neighbors in Madison had chickens," said Jennifer Mack. "That could've been what planted the idea."
Allowing backyard chickens "is something a lot of metro areas do," she said, but a couple of months after the family began raising five hens in a coop on their property on Fifth Street, an officer knocked at their door telling them the chickens needed to be gone within two weeks.
In the village of Prairie du Sac, as well as in Sauk City, chickens are not allowed within village limits.
Prairie du Sac Village Administrator Alan Wildman said someone in Mack's neighborhood called the village about the family's chickens and he forwarded the complaint to the police department.
"That ordinance was recently redone in June of 2009," Wildman said. "They looked at not just chickens, but all livestock and different animals being raised."
Mack has contacted the village board about taking a new look at the ordinance, but Wildman said it will be up to the board whether it does so. Wildman said this is the first time a complaint related to raising chickens has come across his desk.
Mack, her husband and two young children have lived in Prairie du Sac for almost 18 months, and she said when they decided to get the chickens their friends told them the animals were allowed in the village.
"We kind of just went by word of mouth," Mack said. "Everyone said they're allowed in Prairie but not in Sauk."
Sam Mack, Jennifer's husband, said that from driving around and talking to people, he knows there are residents in both villages who also are raising chickens.
Sauk Prairie Police Chief Jerry Strunz said such complaints are "sporadic," and the police deal with such residential-property issues on a by-complaint basis.
Across the country, raising backyard chickens is a growing trend, especially during a recession when people are looking for ways to cut food costs and be more self-sufficient. A quick Google search reveals a plethora of resources for people interested in raising backyard chickens, and numerous national publications that have published articles about their increasing popularity.
Chickens also are allowed in nearby communities such as Baraboo and Middleton.
"We've allowed them for several years," Middleton Assistant Planning Director Mark Opitz. He added, "There's quite a bit of interest in it. I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a dozen people raising chickens in Middleton."
Middleton's village ordinance allows residents to raise hens as long as they don't become a nuisance. Opitz said the only complaint he recalls is from a resident who thought his neighbor was keeping a rooster, which is not allowed.
The city of Baraboo has allowed chickens for nearly two years, and according to the city's finance director and city clerk Cheryl Giese, the ordinance hasn't caused any problems or complaints.
Under Baraboo's ordinance, a resident may have six hens. Residents must submit plans for a chicken coop for municipal review and pay $25 for a permit with a $10 annual renewal.
The village of Prairie du Sac does allow residents to have up to four rabbits, which the Macks also raise in their backyard in structures similar to their chicken coops.
Jennifer said she hopes the village reconsiders allowing chickens, in part because her children like having them, and she said she worries about integrating them into a nearby farm where they'll be at the bottom of the pecking order.
She said she planned to attend the village board meeting that took place last night after the Eagle's deadline.
"We've been here not quite 1 years, and I already feel like we're causing trouble," she said.
Sam said he'll take the chickens to a nearby farm this weekend, and if the village changes its ordinance, he said he can always get them back.
"We're not here to ruffle any feathers," he said.
2011年12月13日星期二
Chickens ordinance approved
Chickens are officially legal in the Town of Windsor for one more year.
During last Monday’s regular town board meeting, the board voted 5-2 to approve on second reading the ordinance extending chicken-keeping in town.
The newly extended ordinance will be back up for discussion next year at this time, when it’s set to sunset again if not extended.
“I can’t support the sunset clause in this ordinance,” said Mayor John Vazquez. “That’s why I’m opposing this ordinance.”
Board member Don Shanfelt, who had concerns about the health issues potentially caused by the chickens, cast the other no vote.
“I’m impressed with the responsibility of the citizens who keep chickens, but I would feel better if we’d heard from someone at CSU Extension,” Shanfelt said.
The chicken-keeping issue has been at times contentious.
A proposal to allow the raising of backyard chickens inside town limits was brought to the board during a meeting in April 2010 by Jared and Ashley Schwader. The couple put together a packet of information that debunked myths and suggested regulations for keeping chickens.
The ordinance allowed residents to keep up to six hens, but no roosters, per property in town. Other requirements include the size of coops and neighbor notification if the coop is going to be located less than 15 feet from the property line.
The ordinance was set to sunset Jan. 1. So at the Nov. 7 work session, the town board took a look at the ordinance and agreed on a couple of changes.
The first change defined a chicken as a bird of a certain species from the moment of its birth, to clear up confusion over whether a non-laying chicken was still a chicken.
The second change dealt with coop removal if a chicken-keeping permit was revoked or the owner ceased keeping chickens for six months.
The sunset clause also was retained, meaning the board would discuss whether to keep chickens in town for another year in Nov. 2012.
However, at the Nov. 14 regular meeting, Vazquez, who was not present at the work session, became concerned that there was no provision for chicken-keepers to raise chicks. He also was displeased the sunset clause would remain, calling it unnecessary.
The board agreed to table the ordinance at that time and look at the original version again later.
The version that passed on first reading on Nov. 28 is the same as the one the board approved last year that keeps the number of chickens allowed at six. It has no exceptions for chicks and keeps the sunset clause, meaning the board will consider this ordinance again next year.
The one change made was to bring the maximum fine for violations up to $1,000, which is in keeping with the rest of the fines charged since the town made the transition to a court of record.
Three members of the public also spoke on the chicken issue.
“My wife and I got a permit this spring and have four chickens,” said Ted Hollman. “I don’t think the sunset clause is necessary because the board can address this ordinance at any time.”
Jon Bork also supports the town allowing chickens.
“I oppose the sunset but support the idea of having a greener, more sustainable way to live,” he said.
John Howton was also pro-chicken.
“I fundamentally have issues with people telling me what I can and can’t have on my three-acre property,” he said.
During last Monday’s regular town board meeting, the board voted 5-2 to approve on second reading the ordinance extending chicken-keeping in town.
The newly extended ordinance will be back up for discussion next year at this time, when it’s set to sunset again if not extended.
“I can’t support the sunset clause in this ordinance,” said Mayor John Vazquez. “That’s why I’m opposing this ordinance.”
Board member Don Shanfelt, who had concerns about the health issues potentially caused by the chickens, cast the other no vote.
“I’m impressed with the responsibility of the citizens who keep chickens, but I would feel better if we’d heard from someone at CSU Extension,” Shanfelt said.
The chicken-keeping issue has been at times contentious.
A proposal to allow the raising of backyard chickens inside town limits was brought to the board during a meeting in April 2010 by Jared and Ashley Schwader. The couple put together a packet of information that debunked myths and suggested regulations for keeping chickens.
The ordinance allowed residents to keep up to six hens, but no roosters, per property in town. Other requirements include the size of coops and neighbor notification if the coop is going to be located less than 15 feet from the property line.
The ordinance was set to sunset Jan. 1. So at the Nov. 7 work session, the town board took a look at the ordinance and agreed on a couple of changes.
The first change defined a chicken as a bird of a certain species from the moment of its birth, to clear up confusion over whether a non-laying chicken was still a chicken.
The second change dealt with coop removal if a chicken-keeping permit was revoked or the owner ceased keeping chickens for six months.
The sunset clause also was retained, meaning the board would discuss whether to keep chickens in town for another year in Nov. 2012.
However, at the Nov. 14 regular meeting, Vazquez, who was not present at the work session, became concerned that there was no provision for chicken-keepers to raise chicks. He also was displeased the sunset clause would remain, calling it unnecessary.
The board agreed to table the ordinance at that time and look at the original version again later.
The version that passed on first reading on Nov. 28 is the same as the one the board approved last year that keeps the number of chickens allowed at six. It has no exceptions for chicks and keeps the sunset clause, meaning the board will consider this ordinance again next year.
The one change made was to bring the maximum fine for violations up to $1,000, which is in keeping with the rest of the fines charged since the town made the transition to a court of record.
Three members of the public also spoke on the chicken issue.
“My wife and I got a permit this spring and have four chickens,” said Ted Hollman. “I don’t think the sunset clause is necessary because the board can address this ordinance at any time.”
Jon Bork also supports the town allowing chickens.
“I oppose the sunset but support the idea of having a greener, more sustainable way to live,” he said.
John Howton was also pro-chicken.
“I fundamentally have issues with people telling me what I can and can’t have on my three-acre property,” he said.
2011年12月12日星期一
Polar Plunge attracts top law enforcerment
Have you ever wanted to tell a politician or police chief to go jump in the river?
Tri-Citians won't have to do that this year, but they will get to a chance to watch some top law enforcers from the Tri-Cities -- and the state's top attorney -- take a plunge into the icy Columbia River.
Kennewick Police Chief Ken Hohenberg will be in good company this year as he jumps in the river for the sixth year in a row as part of Kennewick's annual Polar Plunge fundraiser.
State Attorney General Rob McKenna has agreed to take part in Kennewick's Polar Plunge this year, Hohenberg said.
"He has a real passion for helping children," Hohenberg told the Herald. "But secondly, he really supports the Tri-Cities."
The Polar Plunge is the police department's biggest fundraiser for Special Olympics Washington. And, the Kennewick Police Department has been the top fundraising law enforcement agency in the state for three years in a row.
Last year, the Kennewick Police Department raised $51,000. This year, they almost doubled that.
The 2012 event is set for noon Jan. 21 at the blue bridge boat launch at the east end of Columbia Park.
Hohenberg said McKenna felt so strongly about participating in Kennewick's event that he re-arranged his schedule so he could make it.
McKenna will get a chance to meet some Mid-Columbia Special Olympics athletes before he jumps into the Columbia River. If the winter conditions are normal, the water temperature should be 33 to 36 degrees.
"I don't believe he's ever taken the plunge before," Hohenberg said.
Last week, McKenna made a stop at the weekly meeting of Tri-City police chiefs and sheriffs, and Hohenberg took advantage of the visit to challenge other top cops in the area to join them.
Each year, Hohenberg has asked his fellow law enforcement leaders to jump into the river with him. He hasn't been successful at recruiting them until this time.
He already has commitments from several police chiefs, a sheriff and a prosecutor: Richland Police Chief Chris Skinner, West Richland Police Chief Brian McElroy, Pasco Police Chief Bob Metzger, Connell Police Chief Mike Kessler, Benton County Sheriff Steve Keane and Franklin County Prosecutor Shawn Sant.
"There was a little bit of arm twisting," McElroy said, "but once he made the challenge, of course we had to step up to the plate."
McElroy said he hasn't taken a plunge in an icy river since he left the military, but he was told the water temperature "will be survivable."
Franklin County Sheriff Richard Lathim said he is "going to support us in spirit," Hohenberg said.
Hanford Patrol always has supported Polar Plunge with a team of officers jumping, and this year Hanford Patrol Chief Monty Giulio also will take the plunge with Hohenberg's leadership team.
Rudy Almeida, who serves as a liaison when McKenna is in town, also will see how the icy water feels, the chief said.
Hohenberg said Benton County Prosecutor Andy Miller supports the effort but has a scheduling conflict and won't be able to jump with them. Miller recently completed a swim in the Columbia River without a wetsuit to raise money for a teen homeless shelter.
In 2007, the first year of the event, Hohenberg said Columbia Basin Dive Rescue team members gave him a dive suit to help him stay warm, but it didn't fit properly.
Icy water pooled up at his hands and feet and he had a hard time getting out of the water.
"It floated me down river like a turtle," he said.
Hohenberg said he told McKenna and his fellow chiefs and sheriffs that he now wears old shoes, tactical pants and a shirt that he can quickly take off once he gets out of the water.
A jump in the hot tub afterward to warm up really helps, he said, along with changing into dry clothes.
"So far I've never caught a cold or gotten sick," he said, but he admits "it takes your breath away. Once you get it, you definitely want out."
Hohenberg said people tell him he is crazy or stupid for going in the icy water every year. Then he pulls out a laminated photo from the Tri-City Herald that he keeps in the visor in his car.
"All you've got to do is point to the smile," Hohenberg said as he shows the picture of Chief Joseph Middle School student Matthew Bumgarner with a huge smile on his face as he crosses the finish line at a Special Olympics race in May.
All the money raised by the Polar Plunge goes to help local Special Olympic athletes compete at events around the state. It costs about $650 to support each athlete.
"I tell people it's not only a great cause, but a noble cause," Hohenberg said.
Anyone can take the plunge as long as they raise a minimum of $50. Those who want to support Special Olympics but don't want to jump in the water can donate to someone who has signed up, or they can register with $50 in donations to stand in the Chicken Coop -- a joking reference of those "too chicken" to brave the frigid water.
Tri-Citians won't have to do that this year, but they will get to a chance to watch some top law enforcers from the Tri-Cities -- and the state's top attorney -- take a plunge into the icy Columbia River.
Kennewick Police Chief Ken Hohenberg will be in good company this year as he jumps in the river for the sixth year in a row as part of Kennewick's annual Polar Plunge fundraiser.
State Attorney General Rob McKenna has agreed to take part in Kennewick's Polar Plunge this year, Hohenberg said.
"He has a real passion for helping children," Hohenberg told the Herald. "But secondly, he really supports the Tri-Cities."
The Polar Plunge is the police department's biggest fundraiser for Special Olympics Washington. And, the Kennewick Police Department has been the top fundraising law enforcement agency in the state for three years in a row.
Last year, the Kennewick Police Department raised $51,000. This year, they almost doubled that.
The 2012 event is set for noon Jan. 21 at the blue bridge boat launch at the east end of Columbia Park.
Hohenberg said McKenna felt so strongly about participating in Kennewick's event that he re-arranged his schedule so he could make it.
McKenna will get a chance to meet some Mid-Columbia Special Olympics athletes before he jumps into the Columbia River. If the winter conditions are normal, the water temperature should be 33 to 36 degrees.
"I don't believe he's ever taken the plunge before," Hohenberg said.
Last week, McKenna made a stop at the weekly meeting of Tri-City police chiefs and sheriffs, and Hohenberg took advantage of the visit to challenge other top cops in the area to join them.
Each year, Hohenberg has asked his fellow law enforcement leaders to jump into the river with him. He hasn't been successful at recruiting them until this time.
He already has commitments from several police chiefs, a sheriff and a prosecutor: Richland Police Chief Chris Skinner, West Richland Police Chief Brian McElroy, Pasco Police Chief Bob Metzger, Connell Police Chief Mike Kessler, Benton County Sheriff Steve Keane and Franklin County Prosecutor Shawn Sant.
"There was a little bit of arm twisting," McElroy said, "but once he made the challenge, of course we had to step up to the plate."
McElroy said he hasn't taken a plunge in an icy river since he left the military, but he was told the water temperature "will be survivable."
Franklin County Sheriff Richard Lathim said he is "going to support us in spirit," Hohenberg said.
Hanford Patrol always has supported Polar Plunge with a team of officers jumping, and this year Hanford Patrol Chief Monty Giulio also will take the plunge with Hohenberg's leadership team.
Rudy Almeida, who serves as a liaison when McKenna is in town, also will see how the icy water feels, the chief said.
Hohenberg said Benton County Prosecutor Andy Miller supports the effort but has a scheduling conflict and won't be able to jump with them. Miller recently completed a swim in the Columbia River without a wetsuit to raise money for a teen homeless shelter.
In 2007, the first year of the event, Hohenberg said Columbia Basin Dive Rescue team members gave him a dive suit to help him stay warm, but it didn't fit properly.
Icy water pooled up at his hands and feet and he had a hard time getting out of the water.
"It floated me down river like a turtle," he said.
Hohenberg said he told McKenna and his fellow chiefs and sheriffs that he now wears old shoes, tactical pants and a shirt that he can quickly take off once he gets out of the water.
A jump in the hot tub afterward to warm up really helps, he said, along with changing into dry clothes.
"So far I've never caught a cold or gotten sick," he said, but he admits "it takes your breath away. Once you get it, you definitely want out."
Hohenberg said people tell him he is crazy or stupid for going in the icy water every year. Then he pulls out a laminated photo from the Tri-City Herald that he keeps in the visor in his car.
"All you've got to do is point to the smile," Hohenberg said as he shows the picture of Chief Joseph Middle School student Matthew Bumgarner with a huge smile on his face as he crosses the finish line at a Special Olympics race in May.
All the money raised by the Polar Plunge goes to help local Special Olympic athletes compete at events around the state. It costs about $650 to support each athlete.
"I tell people it's not only a great cause, but a noble cause," Hohenberg said.
Anyone can take the plunge as long as they raise a minimum of $50. Those who want to support Special Olympics but don't want to jump in the water can donate to someone who has signed up, or they can register with $50 in donations to stand in the Chicken Coop -- a joking reference of those "too chicken" to brave the frigid water.
2011年12月11日星期日
Going green
Perhaps it's the brilliantly orange nasturtiums scrambling up fences. It could be the infant formula tins that have been painted with bright flowers and butterflies, hanging from an old washing line. Maybe it's the circular garden plots, some dotted with the magenta stems of bolting silverbeet. Likely it has something to do with Julia Milne, statuesque and ethereal in her gumboots and sunhat.
Whatever it is, the garden at Great Start Taita feels like a magical place. Next door, kids from St Michael's School sitting on the monkey bars call out to Milne, the volunteer behind the garden. She's been nominated for NZ Gardener magazine's gardener of the year and has an impressive number of gardening and community-building projects under her supervision in Taita. She sings back "hello" to the monkeys and guides us around the garden. Monarch butterflies glide by. Milne has been here just over a year, turning the formerly empty grounds of Great Start Taita into a model of sustainability, and starting up gardening workshops for children and adults.
One of the most amazing things about the garden Milne and her band have created is how little money it's cost. You won't find stacks of compost bags or soil improvers here; instead there are compost heaps bursting with grass clippings and kitchen scraps, a 40-gallon drum with comfrey leaves and water steeping into a nutrient-laden plant tonic. She keeps a bucket of rotted sheep pellets, seaweed and grass clippings in water as a fertiliser that locals can get a bottle of to take home, "because a lot of our locals don't have compost ready to go". Mulch comes from the council, and gardens are manured with horse poo, bought for only a few dollars.
As we stroll, she throws out gardening tips - how to deal with clay soil, where to get the best seaweed. She won't let us leave empty handed and digs up a comfrey root for us to take home. "You need tomatoes?" she asks.
Companion plants light up the garden with wild flowers, and children from the gardening club Milne started up have their own little plots in stacks of tyres. There are plots dedicated to Maori vegetables, another called the gifting garden, where the produce is given away. Various people have their own plots at the back. Dotted here and there are more nasturtiums, daisies and comfrey. It's the antithesis of the orderly rows you might find in suburban vege patches and gardening magazines. But not every crop is a roaring success. Milne says her last leeks were so thin, a friend cheekily referred to them as "impotent".
Whatever it is, the garden at Great Start Taita feels like a magical place. Next door, kids from St Michael's School sitting on the monkey bars call out to Milne, the volunteer behind the garden. She's been nominated for NZ Gardener magazine's gardener of the year and has an impressive number of gardening and community-building projects under her supervision in Taita. She sings back "hello" to the monkeys and guides us around the garden. Monarch butterflies glide by. Milne has been here just over a year, turning the formerly empty grounds of Great Start Taita into a model of sustainability, and starting up gardening workshops for children and adults.
One of the most amazing things about the garden Milne and her band have created is how little money it's cost. You won't find stacks of compost bags or soil improvers here; instead there are compost heaps bursting with grass clippings and kitchen scraps, a 40-gallon drum with comfrey leaves and water steeping into a nutrient-laden plant tonic. She keeps a bucket of rotted sheep pellets, seaweed and grass clippings in water as a fertiliser that locals can get a bottle of to take home, "because a lot of our locals don't have compost ready to go". Mulch comes from the council, and gardens are manured with horse poo, bought for only a few dollars.
As we stroll, she throws out gardening tips - how to deal with clay soil, where to get the best seaweed. She won't let us leave empty handed and digs up a comfrey root for us to take home. "You need tomatoes?" she asks.
Companion plants light up the garden with wild flowers, and children from the gardening club Milne started up have their own little plots in stacks of tyres. There are plots dedicated to Maori vegetables, another called the gifting garden, where the produce is given away. Various people have their own plots at the back. Dotted here and there are more nasturtiums, daisies and comfrey. It's the antithesis of the orderly rows you might find in suburban vege patches and gardening magazines. But not every crop is a roaring success. Milne says her last leeks were so thin, a friend cheekily referred to them as "impotent".
2011年12月8日星期四
Chatfield couple buys Old Vasa Children's Home
The Old Vasa Children's Home, a historic property built in 1899, was recently sold to Scott Hanson and Denise Conway, a Chatfield couple. Reported price of the sale was $925,000.
Hanson says they have always liked the area and that the property is a nice place for Conway and him to host their kids and grandkids.
The couple was honored by the city council in Chatfield for the work they have done in restoring and preserving a number of old homes in that city.
Hanson says they have bought, fixed up and sold about nine old homes, mainly Victorians. He calls the work a hobby, but adds that they have done all right with some of the sales.
The Old Children's Home is in good shape and will need very little work, said Hanson.
Dedicated in December of 1899, the Children's Home was originally an orphanage built and run by the Swedish Lutheran Church. Pioneer Pastor Eric Norelius and his wife, who came to the area in 1855, took care of children out of the basement of the Vasa Lutheran Church and a few other structures before eventually building in 1899 on a property just a little bit west and north of the church, beyond the cemetery. The property is quiet and secluded; located on a dead-end gravel road, and not visible from Hwys. 19 or 7.
The Children's Home housed up to 80 residents before it was closed in 1926 and relocated to Red Wing near the intersection of Hwys. 61 and 19. Lutheran Social Services of Minnesota operates it today as a 24-bed facility that supports children and young adults, 7-22 years of age, with a wide range of developmental, physical, psychological, social or behavioral delays.
According to histories compiled by real estate agents, the Old Children's Home in Vasa sat empty from 1926 until 1968, reportedly even used for grain storage at some point in that period. Richard and Marianne Bushbaum acquired the property (294 acres at that point) and began an extensive remodel and renovation.
One of the Bushbaum daughters, now a minister in the Twin Cities, had tried to raise money to purchase the property in recent years with hopes to have it run as a retreat center.
In 1974, the renovated home and buildings and the remaining 34 acres of land were sold to George and Rita Richcreek. The Richcreeks continued with improvements, including extensive gardens, orchard work and other landscaping. A chicken coop became a guest cottage. A heated garage was built. A bunk house became an artist's studio. Another garage and guest apartment were added.
Rita Richcreek passed away in 2007. Her husband preceded her in death in 2004. The property was passed on to her daughters, Twin Cities residents, who were the recent sellers.
The main home is now a three level, with the finished attic a very nice space that the grandkids really enjoy, said Hanson. The house features plenty of woodwork, a multi-windowed garden room and a neat mix of old features and modern amenities. Finished square footage is about 5,150.
The house and property had been listed at $1.2 million.
Hanson says they have always liked the area and that the property is a nice place for Conway and him to host their kids and grandkids.
The couple was honored by the city council in Chatfield for the work they have done in restoring and preserving a number of old homes in that city.
Hanson says they have bought, fixed up and sold about nine old homes, mainly Victorians. He calls the work a hobby, but adds that they have done all right with some of the sales.
The Old Children's Home is in good shape and will need very little work, said Hanson.
Dedicated in December of 1899, the Children's Home was originally an orphanage built and run by the Swedish Lutheran Church. Pioneer Pastor Eric Norelius and his wife, who came to the area in 1855, took care of children out of the basement of the Vasa Lutheran Church and a few other structures before eventually building in 1899 on a property just a little bit west and north of the church, beyond the cemetery. The property is quiet and secluded; located on a dead-end gravel road, and not visible from Hwys. 19 or 7.
The Children's Home housed up to 80 residents before it was closed in 1926 and relocated to Red Wing near the intersection of Hwys. 61 and 19. Lutheran Social Services of Minnesota operates it today as a 24-bed facility that supports children and young adults, 7-22 years of age, with a wide range of developmental, physical, psychological, social or behavioral delays.
According to histories compiled by real estate agents, the Old Children's Home in Vasa sat empty from 1926 until 1968, reportedly even used for grain storage at some point in that period. Richard and Marianne Bushbaum acquired the property (294 acres at that point) and began an extensive remodel and renovation.
One of the Bushbaum daughters, now a minister in the Twin Cities, had tried to raise money to purchase the property in recent years with hopes to have it run as a retreat center.
In 1974, the renovated home and buildings and the remaining 34 acres of land were sold to George and Rita Richcreek. The Richcreeks continued with improvements, including extensive gardens, orchard work and other landscaping. A chicken coop became a guest cottage. A heated garage was built. A bunk house became an artist's studio. Another garage and guest apartment were added.
Rita Richcreek passed away in 2007. Her husband preceded her in death in 2004. The property was passed on to her daughters, Twin Cities residents, who were the recent sellers.
The main home is now a three level, with the finished attic a very nice space that the grandkids really enjoy, said Hanson. The house features plenty of woodwork, a multi-windowed garden room and a neat mix of old features and modern amenities. Finished square footage is about 5,150.
The house and property had been listed at $1.2 million.
2011年12月7日星期三
County could expand chicken-coop policy
You may be surprised to learn there are chickens tucked away across backyards all over city neighborhoods.
Don’t be surprised to possibly see more coming.
The Pinellas County Commission held a public hearing on whether to loosen rules on backyard chickens. The official vote won't come until Dec. 20, but there's a lot of support right now in Pinellas County to make backyard coops legal across the county.
The Bates family is in support.
"It's more about the education of it,” Kelli Bates said. "It's also about the health of it that we are taking care of our food.”
They don't live on a farm. These are backyard animals living the city life in St Petersburg.
"They are very easy to take care of,” Bates said. “They don't take a lot of tender love and care.”
In fact, their chicken coup takes up about the same amount of space as a swing set would.
"We get really great, just fresh eggs laid right there that day," Bates added.
The chickens could have free range of a backyard, but they are going to lay the eggs right inside their coup. In the spring and summer, the Bates’ 19 hens lay up to 20 eggs per day.
It's legal at their home in St Petersburg, but some chickens have been hiding out in garages – in sections of Pinellas County where raising them at home is against the law. Well, at least for now.
According to the county’s 4H extension agent, there's a lot of interest in at-home coops.
Of course, that can also bring clucking, which is a noise your neighbors might not be fond of. There's the issue of that smell, too. Those are the two biggest concerns against backyard coops.
Bates said she hasn't had any problems with her neighbors. One reason may be her old-fashioned hospitality.
"We've actually gone door to door asking our neighbors, ‘Do you mind if we have chickens?’ Here are some fresh eggs," she said.
There seems to be a lot of support for this within the county commission. A lot of residents are curious what it takes to get started.
The basics are a fence and some chicken wire for containment and some wood to build a nesting box.
The Bates family said they use fresh soil that's raked frequently to keep the smell down.
Don’t be surprised to possibly see more coming.
The Pinellas County Commission held a public hearing on whether to loosen rules on backyard chickens. The official vote won't come until Dec. 20, but there's a lot of support right now in Pinellas County to make backyard coops legal across the county.
The Bates family is in support.
"It's more about the education of it,” Kelli Bates said. "It's also about the health of it that we are taking care of our food.”
They don't live on a farm. These are backyard animals living the city life in St Petersburg.
"They are very easy to take care of,” Bates said. “They don't take a lot of tender love and care.”
In fact, their chicken coup takes up about the same amount of space as a swing set would.
"We get really great, just fresh eggs laid right there that day," Bates added.
The chickens could have free range of a backyard, but they are going to lay the eggs right inside their coup. In the spring and summer, the Bates’ 19 hens lay up to 20 eggs per day.
It's legal at their home in St Petersburg, but some chickens have been hiding out in garages – in sections of Pinellas County where raising them at home is against the law. Well, at least for now.
According to the county’s 4H extension agent, there's a lot of interest in at-home coops.
Of course, that can also bring clucking, which is a noise your neighbors might not be fond of. There's the issue of that smell, too. Those are the two biggest concerns against backyard coops.
Bates said she hasn't had any problems with her neighbors. One reason may be her old-fashioned hospitality.
"We've actually gone door to door asking our neighbors, ‘Do you mind if we have chickens?’ Here are some fresh eggs," she said.
There seems to be a lot of support for this within the county commission. A lot of residents are curious what it takes to get started.
The basics are a fence and some chicken wire for containment and some wood to build a nesting box.
The Bates family said they use fresh soil that's raked frequently to keep the smell down.
2011年12月6日星期二
Vandals hit preschool
Many of our town’s youngest residents have been left frightened and angry after being the victims of senseless vandals.
Last Friday night the Narromine Pre-School and Kindergarten’s chicken coop was broken into and a prize hen was stolen.
Jo O’Brien from the preschool said the much-loved hen, affectionately known as Mrs Chook, was a favourite amongst the children.
“The children love and care for the chooks here so it makes us really sad that this has happened,” Mrs O’Brien said.
“Early this week some of the kids noticed Mrs Chook was missing and after we told them what happened, they were definitely upset.
“I don’t understand why they did this? Why would someone break into the preschool and steal one of the kids’ chooks? It breaks your heart because you don’t know what they are doing with the chook either,” Mrs O’Brien said.
This is not the first time the chicken coop at the preschool has been the target of a malicious act.
“They got into the chooks another couple of times before this so this would probably be the third time in two years it has happened,” Mrs O’Brien said.
“After it happened before we had the coop reinforced with mesh and a padlock, but this time they wrecked the door just to get in. The wire was ripped off the coop and they also destroyed the worm farm.”
Mrs Chook’s theft has been reported to the police but those at the preschool are urging anyone with any information to come forward.
“She was an English Sussex - a white hen with black on her,” Mrs O’Brien said.
“She was very pretty and kind to the children, and we want to know who did this and what happened to her,” she concluded.
Last Friday night the Narromine Pre-School and Kindergarten’s chicken coop was broken into and a prize hen was stolen.
Jo O’Brien from the preschool said the much-loved hen, affectionately known as Mrs Chook, was a favourite amongst the children.
“The children love and care for the chooks here so it makes us really sad that this has happened,” Mrs O’Brien said.
“Early this week some of the kids noticed Mrs Chook was missing and after we told them what happened, they were definitely upset.
“I don’t understand why they did this? Why would someone break into the preschool and steal one of the kids’ chooks? It breaks your heart because you don’t know what they are doing with the chook either,” Mrs O’Brien said.
This is not the first time the chicken coop at the preschool has been the target of a malicious act.
“They got into the chooks another couple of times before this so this would probably be the third time in two years it has happened,” Mrs O’Brien said.
“After it happened before we had the coop reinforced with mesh and a padlock, but this time they wrecked the door just to get in. The wire was ripped off the coop and they also destroyed the worm farm.”
Mrs Chook’s theft has been reported to the police but those at the preschool are urging anyone with any information to come forward.
“She was an English Sussex - a white hen with black on her,” Mrs O’Brien said.
“She was very pretty and kind to the children, and we want to know who did this and what happened to her,” she concluded.
2011年12月5日星期一
Chickens May Roost in Coronado
The days of clandestine chicken coops in Coronado may soon be over.
At 3 p.m. Tuesday the City Council will reconsider its ban on backyard chickens. If it elects to lift the ban, Rachel Hurst, the city's community development director, has recommended guidelines.
Because “Coronado is essentially an urban community with small lots, and little space between houses,” Hurst suggested that the city allow no more than three chickens per household and that coops are kept in backyards, well away from neighboring properties.
She noted that some cities restrict chickens to coops, but proposed “setbacks and quantity restrictions made this unnecessary.”
Chicken coops would not be allowed in commercial zones or in multi-family residential zones, such as the Coronado Shores.
Keeping hens has become more popular in recent years. Some credit the farm-to-table movement, while other point to the risk of salmonella from commercially produced eggs.
The ban has not stopped residents from keeping chickens. In September, one of them, Leslie Crawford, asked the council to lift the restriction. She is pleased with Hurst’s recommendations.
“They sound fair and reasonable to me,” she said. “All I ever wanted was for chickens to be treated the same way we treat other animals that live in our community.”
At 3 p.m. Tuesday the City Council will reconsider its ban on backyard chickens. If it elects to lift the ban, Rachel Hurst, the city's community development director, has recommended guidelines.
Because “Coronado is essentially an urban community with small lots, and little space between houses,” Hurst suggested that the city allow no more than three chickens per household and that coops are kept in backyards, well away from neighboring properties.
She noted that some cities restrict chickens to coops, but proposed “setbacks and quantity restrictions made this unnecessary.”
Chicken coops would not be allowed in commercial zones or in multi-family residential zones, such as the Coronado Shores.
Keeping hens has become more popular in recent years. Some credit the farm-to-table movement, while other point to the risk of salmonella from commercially produced eggs.
The ban has not stopped residents from keeping chickens. In September, one of them, Leslie Crawford, asked the council to lift the restriction. She is pleased with Hurst’s recommendations.
“They sound fair and reasonable to me,” she said. “All I ever wanted was for chickens to be treated the same way we treat other animals that live in our community.”
2011年12月4日星期日
Local resident hopes chicken ban doesn't fly
Esther Weddell loves to look out of her window and see her three chickens happily running around her yard.
“I enjoy just seeing them,” she said. “I find them pleasant.”
The chickens provide fresh eggs and eat destructive grubs from the lawn, among other benefits, she said.
So Weddell is dismayed that Farmington may amend its animal ordinance to prohibit residents from keeping the birds.
Planning commissioners recently approved revising its animal ordinance to specifically prohibit chickens, following a request by city officials to firm up its ordinance. The City Council will next vote on the change.
“I do not object to the city imposing reasonable restrictions on the backyard chicken keeper,” said Weddell. “But I think an outright ban is overreaching.”
No ruffled feathers
Weddell got her birds this spring, when they were small yellow chicks.
Before she did so, she researched city laws.
Farmington's ordinance on “raising and keeping of animals” reads: “No person shall keep an animal upon their property that creates a nuisance by means, such as, but not limited to, the annoyance, injury or endangerment of the safety, health or quiet enjoyment of persons upon public property or upon private property within reasonable proximity of the animal's place of keeping.”
Her birds don't conflict with that law, she said.
“I intentionally do not have a rooster which some people could find annoying,” she said. “I really don't think that my three hens endanger anyone's health, safety or quiet enjoyment.”
Her neighbors haven't complained, she said. And they seem to enjoy the fresh eggs that she shares with them as well as with friends and family.
“The kids in my neighborhood come over to see the chickens and look for eggs,” she said.
She wrote to council members to express her opinion and to invite them to see her chickens.
Reached for comment, Mayor Tom Buck said that he had not as yet seen the revised ordinance so couldn't comment on it. Buck said, however, that he appreciated the Weddells' letter.
“They sent a very informative e-mail to council, which I thought was very constructive and helpful and provided some good education on the topic,” he said. ”We will certainly take that into consideration in our deliberations.”
Friendly birds
Weddell, who until recently taught dance at Dancing Feats in downtown Farmington, spoke from her quiet neighborhood on Manning Street this week.
Upon going outside, the three birds came running up to eat the feed that she put in two bowls.
Although they have distinct maple colorings, they don't have names.
“I just call them chickees,” she said.
Picking one up, the other two ran off clucking.
“They like to be together,” she said. “They are really fascinating,” she added. “They are like dinosaurs. They have reptilian feet and they lay eggs like dinosaurs. They don't peck but they do scratch though, so you have to be careful.”
Weddell said her father used to keep chickens and was a beekeeper in Livonia, which got her thinking about having her own chickens.
With her two daughters, both Farmington High graduates, on their own now, she thought the time was right.
Her husband, Michael, helps her out, she said.
Even her dog likes them, she said.
The chicken coop is next to the yard. It's full of clean hay and is lightweight and mobile.
The birds have the run of the pesticide-free yard.
They are clean birds, she said. She pointed out a garden bed of dirt where they take “dust baths,” which smother any mites they may have, she said.
Her biggest problem has been that “when they were adolescents they got out of the yard through a gap,” in the enclosed yard.
“I always grabbed them or our neighbor across the street would bring them over.”
Many benefits
Weddell listed some of the benefits she's found from keeping the birds, including: “They are easy and inexpensive to maintain; produce fresh, great-tasting and nutritious eggs; they take care of bugs; they're good company; they're pretty; they provide the best fertilizer in the world, and it decomposes quickly; it's nice because kids want to visit; they are friendly.”
Weddell says that she'll comply should there be restrictions on the ordinance, such as limiting the number of birds based on the size of the yard.
She's prepared to give them away should it come to that. A farmer at the Farmington Farmers Market has agreed to take them in that instance, she said.
She hopes that doesn't happen.
“It's so funny that a city called Farmington would think about banning chickens,” she said.
“I enjoy just seeing them,” she said. “I find them pleasant.”
The chickens provide fresh eggs and eat destructive grubs from the lawn, among other benefits, she said.
So Weddell is dismayed that Farmington may amend its animal ordinance to prohibit residents from keeping the birds.
Planning commissioners recently approved revising its animal ordinance to specifically prohibit chickens, following a request by city officials to firm up its ordinance. The City Council will next vote on the change.
“I do not object to the city imposing reasonable restrictions on the backyard chicken keeper,” said Weddell. “But I think an outright ban is overreaching.”
No ruffled feathers
Weddell got her birds this spring, when they were small yellow chicks.
Before she did so, she researched city laws.
Farmington's ordinance on “raising and keeping of animals” reads: “No person shall keep an animal upon their property that creates a nuisance by means, such as, but not limited to, the annoyance, injury or endangerment of the safety, health or quiet enjoyment of persons upon public property or upon private property within reasonable proximity of the animal's place of keeping.”
Her birds don't conflict with that law, she said.
“I intentionally do not have a rooster which some people could find annoying,” she said. “I really don't think that my three hens endanger anyone's health, safety or quiet enjoyment.”
Her neighbors haven't complained, she said. And they seem to enjoy the fresh eggs that she shares with them as well as with friends and family.
“The kids in my neighborhood come over to see the chickens and look for eggs,” she said.
She wrote to council members to express her opinion and to invite them to see her chickens.
Reached for comment, Mayor Tom Buck said that he had not as yet seen the revised ordinance so couldn't comment on it. Buck said, however, that he appreciated the Weddells' letter.
“They sent a very informative e-mail to council, which I thought was very constructive and helpful and provided some good education on the topic,” he said. ”We will certainly take that into consideration in our deliberations.”
Friendly birds
Weddell, who until recently taught dance at Dancing Feats in downtown Farmington, spoke from her quiet neighborhood on Manning Street this week.
Upon going outside, the three birds came running up to eat the feed that she put in two bowls.
Although they have distinct maple colorings, they don't have names.
“I just call them chickees,” she said.
Picking one up, the other two ran off clucking.
“They like to be together,” she said. “They are really fascinating,” she added. “They are like dinosaurs. They have reptilian feet and they lay eggs like dinosaurs. They don't peck but they do scratch though, so you have to be careful.”
Weddell said her father used to keep chickens and was a beekeeper in Livonia, which got her thinking about having her own chickens.
With her two daughters, both Farmington High graduates, on their own now, she thought the time was right.
Her husband, Michael, helps her out, she said.
Even her dog likes them, she said.
The chicken coop is next to the yard. It's full of clean hay and is lightweight and mobile.
The birds have the run of the pesticide-free yard.
They are clean birds, she said. She pointed out a garden bed of dirt where they take “dust baths,” which smother any mites they may have, she said.
Her biggest problem has been that “when they were adolescents they got out of the yard through a gap,” in the enclosed yard.
“I always grabbed them or our neighbor across the street would bring them over.”
Many benefits
Weddell listed some of the benefits she's found from keeping the birds, including: “They are easy and inexpensive to maintain; produce fresh, great-tasting and nutritious eggs; they take care of bugs; they're good company; they're pretty; they provide the best fertilizer in the world, and it decomposes quickly; it's nice because kids want to visit; they are friendly.”
Weddell says that she'll comply should there be restrictions on the ordinance, such as limiting the number of birds based on the size of the yard.
She's prepared to give them away should it come to that. A farmer at the Farmington Farmers Market has agreed to take them in that instance, she said.
She hopes that doesn't happen.
“It's so funny that a city called Farmington would think about banning chickens,” she said.
2011年12月1日星期四
Chickens and more to see during Tour de Coop
They're good for your garden, eat unwanted insects, and make a pretty good omelet. They are chickens, raised in your own back yard.
Hundreds of Valley residents will rise before the rooster this Saturday to join the third annual Tour De Coops, "A tour of the chicken coops in the City of Phoenix and surrounding areas," says Elaine Berlinger. She plans to join the tour to make a final decision on whether to set up a coop in her own backyard. "I am taking my time making sure that, not only myself, my husband, my children, they all need to participate."
Not everyone is as cautious about buying chickens as Berlinger, says Bryan White, a co-coordinator of this year's tour, "We have some people who go to the State Fair and have a few too many beers and end up with goats!" He says those who take the tour can visit 21 different coop locations across the Valley to see what it's like raising chickens in just about every scenario, "whether it's in a rental situation, someone who's been in the business for years, a school setting, or an upscale home in the center of Phoenix."
Caroline Van Slyke has a plush half acre in the Arcadia neighborhood where she raises French Poulet Rouge chickens direct from Pennsylvania Amish country. "They are prized by restaurants, but we're not selling any. We're keeping them in the freezer." For her toddler, David, it means no hormones, just fresh chicken at the end of the month. At the other end of their lot, the family collects fresh eggs from eight hens housed in a stylish, recycled barn. "I'm a commercial and residential interior designer, so form and function go through everything," says Van Slyke, who says the crystal chandelier and a brightly colored painting inside the hens' barn help set the mood, "Happy chickens lay better eggs."
Not only do they lay fresh eggs, White says the chickens, "Control insects, till the soil and deposit poop releasing rich minerals in the Arizona dirt for a healthy garden."
Hundreds of Valley residents will rise before the rooster this Saturday to join the third annual Tour De Coops, "A tour of the chicken coops in the City of Phoenix and surrounding areas," says Elaine Berlinger. She plans to join the tour to make a final decision on whether to set up a coop in her own backyard. "I am taking my time making sure that, not only myself, my husband, my children, they all need to participate."
Not everyone is as cautious about buying chickens as Berlinger, says Bryan White, a co-coordinator of this year's tour, "We have some people who go to the State Fair and have a few too many beers and end up with goats!" He says those who take the tour can visit 21 different coop locations across the Valley to see what it's like raising chickens in just about every scenario, "whether it's in a rental situation, someone who's been in the business for years, a school setting, or an upscale home in the center of Phoenix."
Caroline Van Slyke has a plush half acre in the Arcadia neighborhood where she raises French Poulet Rouge chickens direct from Pennsylvania Amish country. "They are prized by restaurants, but we're not selling any. We're keeping them in the freezer." For her toddler, David, it means no hormones, just fresh chicken at the end of the month. At the other end of their lot, the family collects fresh eggs from eight hens housed in a stylish, recycled barn. "I'm a commercial and residential interior designer, so form and function go through everything," says Van Slyke, who says the crystal chandelier and a brightly colored painting inside the hens' barn help set the mood, "Happy chickens lay better eggs."
Not only do they lay fresh eggs, White says the chickens, "Control insects, till the soil and deposit poop releasing rich minerals in the Arizona dirt for a healthy garden."
2011年11月30日星期三
A couple learns to live simply, richly
To step into Shane Jewell and Emily Pruiksma’s home in Paradise Valley is to enter a world made by hand — their own hands.
Consider first where they live: Tucked behind Plum Forest Farm, past wooden gates, a chicken coop and several Scottish Highland cows, sits a pair of yurts, the couple’s home and music studio. Inside, the hand-made feel begins with the warm patina of the hand-packed earthen cob floor on up to the hand-bent poles supporting the hand-sewn cover.
Then look around: There’s the folding rocking chair Pruiksma made. Jewell’s handcrafted 17-foot umiak. The beloved hurdy-gurdy he built. A sturdy worm bin Pruiksma crafted.
They don’t own a car. A wood-fired cookstove heats the hot water tank. They power their washing machine by pedaling a stationary bicycle. Energy for their electric chainsaw and rototiller comes from the sun. Their 1920s-era treadle sewing machine — gifted to them by an Islander — is a steady workhorse.
And these days, as they ready themselves for Vashon’s 29th annual Art Studio Tour this weekend, their handcrafted lives are on display more than ever. Hand-dipped beeswax candles — made in part from beeswax they collected on Vashon — line a table. Etched-glass candle holders and pendant necklaces line another. And Pruiksma’s speciality — delicately decorated Ukrainian eggs that have begun to draw repeat visitors to their small yurt — are being readied for the tour.
Saturday and Sunday, when visitors follow the narrow path to Jewell and Pruiksma’s yurt, they’ll likely find Pruiksma bent over a blown egg, a candle to warm her kitska — or hot wax pen — glowing softly next to her, as she plies her craft.
The two enjoy the studio tour, as it’s a chance, they note, to connect with friends and neighbors. But more often than not, it’s also an opportunity for them to talk about the lifestyle they’ve chosen and the philosophy that imbues it.
“We get people who come and see the large picture of it, and it kind of fires them up. And others look a little confused by it,” Pruiksma noted. “We end up talking a lot about our space as well as our art, because so much of what we do is part of a larger picture, … part of our effort to live in a way that’s a lot lower impact.”
If anyone on Vashon could be said to piece a life together, Shane Jewell and Emily Pruiksma, both 33, could. He teaches at the Homestead School; she works two days a week at Vashon Library. He offers music lessons to a dozen or two students in 10 different instruments. She builds and sells worm bins. Together, they grow much of their own food.
Fourteen years ago, Jewell and Pruiksma never imagined they’d be living life off the grid in a hand-crafted yurt on a small organic farm. But that was before they staffed the 600-member food co-op kitchen of Oberlin College in Ohio.
The couple attended Oberlin between 1997 and 2001, where they met in the co-op kitchen. Both natives of Puget Sound, Jewell and Pruiksma bonded over nostalgia for the misty rain of the Northwest and their mutual passion for music. Pruiksma, an environmental studies major, coordinated the co-op’s local food program, buying produce from the region’s Amish farmers. Jewell, a math and music major, was the pizza chef.
Before long, Jewell joined Pruiksma on her buying trips to the country, where they visited farms and marveled at the self-sufficient lifestyle of the Amish farmers.
“They were really inspiring,” said Pruiksma. “They lived close to the land in a tight cohesive community. … There was something very attractive about their hands-on life.”
Though Pruiksma and Jewell grew up as urban dwellers, in Seattle and Bellingham respectively, they began to ponder how they, too, could be in community while living rooted to the land.
“We were studying things in school that were so theoretical — we really wanted to learn these skills connected to place,” Jewell said. “At the same time we were studying all the problems in the world, the big name issues of climate change, breakdown of communities, destruction of farmland. … We decided we’d rather be part of the solution.”
Like so many times to come for this adventurous couple, one experience led to the next. Junior year, Jewell and Pruiksma traveled the world visiting five countries as part of a global ecology program. At a collective called Timbaktu, a volunteer organization working for sustainable development in a drought-prone area of India, Jewell and Pruiksma were again inspired by what they saw. The collective had re-instituted traditional methods to retain water, transforming what had become a desert into the forest it once was.
But it wasn’t just the ecological restoration that the young couple found inspirational; it was also the way the people in the collective went about their work, using music and dance to build a community. When Jewell and Pruiksma arrived, they recalled, some of the local musicians put on a traditional dance for them.
“Music seemed like such an essential part of what they were doing,” Jewell said. “And they weren’t only trying to rebuild a place, they were trying to rebuild a community that could take care of the place.”
Returning to the Northwest after college, the duo dreamed of living life like the communities they visited, but they didn’t know where or how. That’s when serendipity intervened. A call from Amy Bogaard of Hogsback Farm brought the couple to Vashon. Bogaard is a friend of Jewell’s aunt and uncle, Joanne Jewell and Rob Pederson, owners Plum Forest Farm; she contacted them in search of interns, learned of Jewell and Pruiksma and thought they’d be ideal.
Jewell and Pruiksma accepted, and the job turned out to be an opportunity for them to learn an essential foundation for their vision: how to grow food.
When the internship ended, the couple took what looked like a detour on their path to sustainable living, choosing to walk the Pacific Crest Trail from southern Oregon to Canada. Influenced by the self-sufficient farmers back in Ohio, they sewed much of their own gear, fashioning mosquito-proof clothing, a lightweight tent and backpack.
In the middle of the preparation, Pruiksma remembered watching Jewell walk across the meadow at Plum Forest Farm, where they were living, with a bundle of sticks. An enthusiastic Jewell told Pruiksma that he’d learned how to construct a yurt and thought they should build one.
With a gentle nod towards her partner, Pruiksma noted that Jewell knows how to dream and see what’s possible while she has the slow staying power, and that makes for a very good partnership. So before leaving for the Pacific Crest Trail, together they built a small yurt — once again, with no notion of where the project would lead.
Determined to do the Pacific Crest Trail mostly by their own human power, Jewell and Pruiksma set off from Vashon on their old middle school bicycles, riding down the coast for a month and ending up in Ashland, where they shipped the bikes home and began the 1,000-mile hike.
“It was this whole process of slowing down,” Pruiksma said. “Walking is a perfect time for dreaming. We didn’t know it then, but it was really a pivotal time.”
Upon their return, in 2005, they began construction of a larger yurt. The smaller one now serves as Jewell’s music and tutoring studio.
And in 2008, again in an effort to re-create the beauty and wisdom of that collective in India, Jewell and Pruiksma decided to form the Free Range Folk Choir, an a cappella group that performs world music in four- and five-part harmony. The economic downturn was beginning to hit Vashon, the couple recalled, and they saw the choir as a way to lift spirits and foster community, just as music had in India.
Consider first where they live: Tucked behind Plum Forest Farm, past wooden gates, a chicken coop and several Scottish Highland cows, sits a pair of yurts, the couple’s home and music studio. Inside, the hand-made feel begins with the warm patina of the hand-packed earthen cob floor on up to the hand-bent poles supporting the hand-sewn cover.
Then look around: There’s the folding rocking chair Pruiksma made. Jewell’s handcrafted 17-foot umiak. The beloved hurdy-gurdy he built. A sturdy worm bin Pruiksma crafted.
They don’t own a car. A wood-fired cookstove heats the hot water tank. They power their washing machine by pedaling a stationary bicycle. Energy for their electric chainsaw and rototiller comes from the sun. Their 1920s-era treadle sewing machine — gifted to them by an Islander — is a steady workhorse.
And these days, as they ready themselves for Vashon’s 29th annual Art Studio Tour this weekend, their handcrafted lives are on display more than ever. Hand-dipped beeswax candles — made in part from beeswax they collected on Vashon — line a table. Etched-glass candle holders and pendant necklaces line another. And Pruiksma’s speciality — delicately decorated Ukrainian eggs that have begun to draw repeat visitors to their small yurt — are being readied for the tour.
Saturday and Sunday, when visitors follow the narrow path to Jewell and Pruiksma’s yurt, they’ll likely find Pruiksma bent over a blown egg, a candle to warm her kitska — or hot wax pen — glowing softly next to her, as she plies her craft.
The two enjoy the studio tour, as it’s a chance, they note, to connect with friends and neighbors. But more often than not, it’s also an opportunity for them to talk about the lifestyle they’ve chosen and the philosophy that imbues it.
“We get people who come and see the large picture of it, and it kind of fires them up. And others look a little confused by it,” Pruiksma noted. “We end up talking a lot about our space as well as our art, because so much of what we do is part of a larger picture, … part of our effort to live in a way that’s a lot lower impact.”
If anyone on Vashon could be said to piece a life together, Shane Jewell and Emily Pruiksma, both 33, could. He teaches at the Homestead School; she works two days a week at Vashon Library. He offers music lessons to a dozen or two students in 10 different instruments. She builds and sells worm bins. Together, they grow much of their own food.
Fourteen years ago, Jewell and Pruiksma never imagined they’d be living life off the grid in a hand-crafted yurt on a small organic farm. But that was before they staffed the 600-member food co-op kitchen of Oberlin College in Ohio.
The couple attended Oberlin between 1997 and 2001, where they met in the co-op kitchen. Both natives of Puget Sound, Jewell and Pruiksma bonded over nostalgia for the misty rain of the Northwest and their mutual passion for music. Pruiksma, an environmental studies major, coordinated the co-op’s local food program, buying produce from the region’s Amish farmers. Jewell, a math and music major, was the pizza chef.
Before long, Jewell joined Pruiksma on her buying trips to the country, where they visited farms and marveled at the self-sufficient lifestyle of the Amish farmers.
“They were really inspiring,” said Pruiksma. “They lived close to the land in a tight cohesive community. … There was something very attractive about their hands-on life.”
Though Pruiksma and Jewell grew up as urban dwellers, in Seattle and Bellingham respectively, they began to ponder how they, too, could be in community while living rooted to the land.
“We were studying things in school that were so theoretical — we really wanted to learn these skills connected to place,” Jewell said. “At the same time we were studying all the problems in the world, the big name issues of climate change, breakdown of communities, destruction of farmland. … We decided we’d rather be part of the solution.”
Like so many times to come for this adventurous couple, one experience led to the next. Junior year, Jewell and Pruiksma traveled the world visiting five countries as part of a global ecology program. At a collective called Timbaktu, a volunteer organization working for sustainable development in a drought-prone area of India, Jewell and Pruiksma were again inspired by what they saw. The collective had re-instituted traditional methods to retain water, transforming what had become a desert into the forest it once was.
But it wasn’t just the ecological restoration that the young couple found inspirational; it was also the way the people in the collective went about their work, using music and dance to build a community. When Jewell and Pruiksma arrived, they recalled, some of the local musicians put on a traditional dance for them.
“Music seemed like such an essential part of what they were doing,” Jewell said. “And they weren’t only trying to rebuild a place, they were trying to rebuild a community that could take care of the place.”
Returning to the Northwest after college, the duo dreamed of living life like the communities they visited, but they didn’t know where or how. That’s when serendipity intervened. A call from Amy Bogaard of Hogsback Farm brought the couple to Vashon. Bogaard is a friend of Jewell’s aunt and uncle, Joanne Jewell and Rob Pederson, owners Plum Forest Farm; she contacted them in search of interns, learned of Jewell and Pruiksma and thought they’d be ideal.
Jewell and Pruiksma accepted, and the job turned out to be an opportunity for them to learn an essential foundation for their vision: how to grow food.
When the internship ended, the couple took what looked like a detour on their path to sustainable living, choosing to walk the Pacific Crest Trail from southern Oregon to Canada. Influenced by the self-sufficient farmers back in Ohio, they sewed much of their own gear, fashioning mosquito-proof clothing, a lightweight tent and backpack.
In the middle of the preparation, Pruiksma remembered watching Jewell walk across the meadow at Plum Forest Farm, where they were living, with a bundle of sticks. An enthusiastic Jewell told Pruiksma that he’d learned how to construct a yurt and thought they should build one.
With a gentle nod towards her partner, Pruiksma noted that Jewell knows how to dream and see what’s possible while she has the slow staying power, and that makes for a very good partnership. So before leaving for the Pacific Crest Trail, together they built a small yurt — once again, with no notion of where the project would lead.
Determined to do the Pacific Crest Trail mostly by their own human power, Jewell and Pruiksma set off from Vashon on their old middle school bicycles, riding down the coast for a month and ending up in Ashland, where they shipped the bikes home and began the 1,000-mile hike.
“It was this whole process of slowing down,” Pruiksma said. “Walking is a perfect time for dreaming. We didn’t know it then, but it was really a pivotal time.”
Upon their return, in 2005, they began construction of a larger yurt. The smaller one now serves as Jewell’s music and tutoring studio.
And in 2008, again in an effort to re-create the beauty and wisdom of that collective in India, Jewell and Pruiksma decided to form the Free Range Folk Choir, an a cappella group that performs world music in four- and five-part harmony. The economic downturn was beginning to hit Vashon, the couple recalled, and they saw the choir as a way to lift spirits and foster community, just as music had in India.
2011年11月29日星期二
Family hopes to raise chickens in Pasco
Amelia Larson hopes to use an empty chicken coop in her Pasco backyard to raise chickens with her four children.
The stay-at-home mom says it would be a chance for her kids to learn about raising their own food.
But whether the new coop's residents will be allowed depends on what the Pasco City Council decides about her request to allow chickens in residential zones.
Chickens are allowed only in residential suburban zones, but not residential zones, which have a smaller lot size. If Larson's request is approved, chickens and rabbits would be allowed in residential zones as well.
Families could then own up to three chickens in residential zones, with the total number of chickens, rabbits, dogs and cats capped at six for a single family home on a lot 5,000 square feet or larger, said Rick White, city community and economic development director.
Kennewick allows chickens in residential suburban zones but not other residential zones, unless the property was annexed into the city with the use grandfathered in and has continued to have chickens since annexation.
Richland allows chickens, except for roosters, and rabbits among permitted household pets, according to Richland municipal code. Each dwelling unit is limited to five household pets.
West Richland allows chickens and rabbits in residential zones. Homes are limited to two or five small animals, depending on density.
Larson said she and her husband, Jeff, never have owned chickens before, but she wanted to raise some of her family's food. At first, she thought chickens weren't possible in a residential neighborhood.
But her research found other cities did allow it.
So the stay-at-home mom sent a letter to the city asking officials to legalize small numbers of hens and rabbits in residential zones. And she included examples of ordinances from other cities like Seattle.
Larson said her family would likely try raising both, although they are most interested in chickens. Other families expressed interest in rabbits, prompting her to ask for both.
Chickens are among the easiest farm animals to care for and don't need much space, she said. And they don't make a lot of noise in comparison with other allowed pets, she said.
And Larson said they will eat almost any scraps and help fertilize gardens. That's a self-sufficiency she is looking for.
Her children, Gabriel, 12, Faith, 9, Asher, 6, and Elias, 3, are excited by the idea, and Gabriel spoke with Larson in support of the proposal before the Nov. 17 city planning commission, she said.
The city planning commission recommended that the council approve the change to city code.
Jason Caryl of Pasco asked the city council to support the measure. His family raised chickens when they lived in another area, and the joy his three children experienced and the things they learned from collecting eggs and cooking them was undeniable, he said.
But Glen Fry of Pasco said he doesn't like the idea of having a rickety old chicken coop near his home. If he wanted to live near livestock, he said he wouldn't have moved to Pasco.
Councilwoman Rebecca Francik said she thinks that if the city allows people to own large dogs, it's hard to say people can't have a couple of chickens.
"I find that dogs are much more annoying noise-wise than birds," she said.
Mayor Matt Watkins said he thinks using dog noise as a comparison isn't good because the city already has an issue with noise. Noise is the most common complaint he receives from city residents.
He said he would support chickens only if they were in or right next to the owner's bedroom.
But Francik said she grew up with chickens, and without roosters, they aren't that noisy. And they eat bugs in the garden and produce fresh eggs.
Councilman Al Yenney said he would support the measure but thinks that "hens" is too broad of a term. That could include guinea hens, he said.
The city council will continue to discuss the proposal at the Dec. 12 workshop meeting.
At first, Larson said she felt like she shouldn't bother. But the process has been relatively fast and city staff has worked with her, she said. She said she would encourage others who would like to see a change in city code to ask.
The stay-at-home mom says it would be a chance for her kids to learn about raising their own food.
But whether the new coop's residents will be allowed depends on what the Pasco City Council decides about her request to allow chickens in residential zones.
Chickens are allowed only in residential suburban zones, but not residential zones, which have a smaller lot size. If Larson's request is approved, chickens and rabbits would be allowed in residential zones as well.
Families could then own up to three chickens in residential zones, with the total number of chickens, rabbits, dogs and cats capped at six for a single family home on a lot 5,000 square feet or larger, said Rick White, city community and economic development director.
Kennewick allows chickens in residential suburban zones but not other residential zones, unless the property was annexed into the city with the use grandfathered in and has continued to have chickens since annexation.
Richland allows chickens, except for roosters, and rabbits among permitted household pets, according to Richland municipal code. Each dwelling unit is limited to five household pets.
West Richland allows chickens and rabbits in residential zones. Homes are limited to two or five small animals, depending on density.
Larson said she and her husband, Jeff, never have owned chickens before, but she wanted to raise some of her family's food. At first, she thought chickens weren't possible in a residential neighborhood.
But her research found other cities did allow it.
So the stay-at-home mom sent a letter to the city asking officials to legalize small numbers of hens and rabbits in residential zones. And she included examples of ordinances from other cities like Seattle.
Larson said her family would likely try raising both, although they are most interested in chickens. Other families expressed interest in rabbits, prompting her to ask for both.
Chickens are among the easiest farm animals to care for and don't need much space, she said. And they don't make a lot of noise in comparison with other allowed pets, she said.
And Larson said they will eat almost any scraps and help fertilize gardens. That's a self-sufficiency she is looking for.
Her children, Gabriel, 12, Faith, 9, Asher, 6, and Elias, 3, are excited by the idea, and Gabriel spoke with Larson in support of the proposal before the Nov. 17 city planning commission, she said.
The city planning commission recommended that the council approve the change to city code.
Jason Caryl of Pasco asked the city council to support the measure. His family raised chickens when they lived in another area, and the joy his three children experienced and the things they learned from collecting eggs and cooking them was undeniable, he said.
But Glen Fry of Pasco said he doesn't like the idea of having a rickety old chicken coop near his home. If he wanted to live near livestock, he said he wouldn't have moved to Pasco.
Councilwoman Rebecca Francik said she thinks that if the city allows people to own large dogs, it's hard to say people can't have a couple of chickens.
"I find that dogs are much more annoying noise-wise than birds," she said.
Mayor Matt Watkins said he thinks using dog noise as a comparison isn't good because the city already has an issue with noise. Noise is the most common complaint he receives from city residents.
He said he would support chickens only if they were in or right next to the owner's bedroom.
But Francik said she grew up with chickens, and without roosters, they aren't that noisy. And they eat bugs in the garden and produce fresh eggs.
Councilman Al Yenney said he would support the measure but thinks that "hens" is too broad of a term. That could include guinea hens, he said.
The city council will continue to discuss the proposal at the Dec. 12 workshop meeting.
At first, Larson said she felt like she shouldn't bother. But the process has been relatively fast and city staff has worked with her, she said. She said she would encourage others who would like to see a change in city code to ask.
2011年11月28日星期一
Tour downtown's backyard chicken coops this Saturday
You’re in cluck! It’s once again time for the Food Conspiracy’s most popular event – the annual Chicken Coop Tour.
You’d be amazed how many people around town raise chickens in their backyards. Plenty of them are right in the Downtown neighborhoods.
Food Conspiracy’s self-guided tour is a great way to gather information before bringing home a brood. The tour takes place from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Dec. 3.
See a wide variety of creative coop styles and sizes. Talk to backyard chicken keepers. Learn about raising chicks.
Food Conspiracy launched Tucson’s first urban chicken coop tour in May 2009. The event is designed to introduce people to the joys (and challenges) of urban chicken keeping.
Food Conspiracy hopes it will inform people about chicken rearing and encourage folks to raise their own chickens in order to have a regular supply of local, fresh, humanely-raised chicken eggs.
Tickets are $5 and are available at the Food Conspiracy Co-op and will be available up until the day of the tour, while supplies last.
Virtually every major American city now boasts at least one annual chicken coop tour, including Raleigh, Atlanta and Spokane. Urban chicken coops have become trendy enough in Chicago to allow Jennifer Murtoff to make a living as an urban chicken consultant.
Once you buy ticket, you will be added to a list of tour participants. All participants will receive an email with a downloadable packet that includes a map to all participating coops and descriptions/pictures of each coop. For anyone without e-mail, a hard copy of the packet can be held for pickup at the co-op.
On the day of the tour, anyone with a ticket can visit any coops they choose to visit anytime between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m.
There is no set route. Participants can start at any coop. They do not need to visit every coop, and can spend as little or as much time at each coop as they want to.
At each participating coop there will be at least one person available throughout the tour to answer questions about their chickens and coops. Many of the coop owners also have other home sustainability features like cisterns, desert gardens, rainwater harvesting basins and solar ovens, and they’ll be happy to talk about them, too.
All money raised from ticket sales will be donated to the Watershed Management Group’s co-op to offer subsidies for installing backyard chicken coops.
You’d be amazed how many people around town raise chickens in their backyards. Plenty of them are right in the Downtown neighborhoods.
Food Conspiracy’s self-guided tour is a great way to gather information before bringing home a brood. The tour takes place from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Dec. 3.
See a wide variety of creative coop styles and sizes. Talk to backyard chicken keepers. Learn about raising chicks.
Food Conspiracy launched Tucson’s first urban chicken coop tour in May 2009. The event is designed to introduce people to the joys (and challenges) of urban chicken keeping.
Food Conspiracy hopes it will inform people about chicken rearing and encourage folks to raise their own chickens in order to have a regular supply of local, fresh, humanely-raised chicken eggs.
Tickets are $5 and are available at the Food Conspiracy Co-op and will be available up until the day of the tour, while supplies last.
Virtually every major American city now boasts at least one annual chicken coop tour, including Raleigh, Atlanta and Spokane. Urban chicken coops have become trendy enough in Chicago to allow Jennifer Murtoff to make a living as an urban chicken consultant.
Once you buy ticket, you will be added to a list of tour participants. All participants will receive an email with a downloadable packet that includes a map to all participating coops and descriptions/pictures of each coop. For anyone without e-mail, a hard copy of the packet can be held for pickup at the co-op.
On the day of the tour, anyone with a ticket can visit any coops they choose to visit anytime between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m.
There is no set route. Participants can start at any coop. They do not need to visit every coop, and can spend as little or as much time at each coop as they want to.
At each participating coop there will be at least one person available throughout the tour to answer questions about their chickens and coops. Many of the coop owners also have other home sustainability features like cisterns, desert gardens, rainwater harvesting basins and solar ovens, and they’ll be happy to talk about them, too.
All money raised from ticket sales will be donated to the Watershed Management Group’s co-op to offer subsidies for installing backyard chicken coops.
2011年11月27日星期日
'Fatally Frosted: A Donut Shop Mystery'
A Donut Shop Mystery" by Jessica Beck. April Springs, N.C., is hosting a grand tour of extraordinary kitchens, and everyone's invited. Local donut shop owner Suzanne Hart is dying to cook up something fabulous for the event. Unfortunately, dying turns out to be the key word. A local busybody has dropped dead after eating one of Suzanne's famous treats.
"I Didn't Ask to Be Born (But I'm Glad I Was)" by Bill Cosby. In this hilarious new collection of observations, Cosby brings us more of his wonderful and wacky insights into the human condition that are sure to become classics. In the tradition of Fat Albert, Cosby introduces a host of new characters, including Peanut Armhouse and Old Mother Harold. Not since Mushmouth, Dumb Donald, Bucky and the Cosby Kids has there been such a memorable cast.
"Art of the Chicken Coop" by Chris Gleason. What came first, the chicken or the egg? Thanks to this book, you're about to learn the correct answer to this age-old question — neither. The coop came first. So, if you're planning on keeping chickens, whether it's just a few or a large flock, you'll need a place to house your egg-laying friends. In this book, today's modern farmer — both urban and suburban — will find creative plans and easy-to-follow construction techniques for making seven stylish chicken coops.
"The Unquiet" by J.D. Robb, Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan and Mary Kay McComas. This book includes five all new startling stories from various authors. In "Chaos in Death," Eve Dallas and Roarke return to investigate the murders of a series of luckless indigents — and their strange connection to a brilliant young doctor.
"The House of Silk: A Sherlock Holmes Novel" by Anthony Horowitz. London, 1890, 221 B Baker St. A fine arts dealer named Edmund Carstairs visits Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson to beg for their help. He is being menaced by a strange man in a flat cap — a wanted criminal who seems to have followed him all the way from America. In the days that follow, his home is robbed and his family is threatened. And then the first murder takes place. Almost unwillingly, Holmes and Watson find themselves being drawn ever deeper into an international conspiracy connected to the teeming criminal underworld of Boston, the gas-lit streets of London, opium dens and much, much more.
"I Didn't Ask to Be Born (But I'm Glad I Was)" by Bill Cosby. In this hilarious new collection of observations, Cosby brings us more of his wonderful and wacky insights into the human condition that are sure to become classics. In the tradition of Fat Albert, Cosby introduces a host of new characters, including Peanut Armhouse and Old Mother Harold. Not since Mushmouth, Dumb Donald, Bucky and the Cosby Kids has there been such a memorable cast.
"Art of the Chicken Coop" by Chris Gleason. What came first, the chicken or the egg? Thanks to this book, you're about to learn the correct answer to this age-old question — neither. The coop came first. So, if you're planning on keeping chickens, whether it's just a few or a large flock, you'll need a place to house your egg-laying friends. In this book, today's modern farmer — both urban and suburban — will find creative plans and easy-to-follow construction techniques for making seven stylish chicken coops.
"The Unquiet" by J.D. Robb, Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan and Mary Kay McComas. This book includes five all new startling stories from various authors. In "Chaos in Death," Eve Dallas and Roarke return to investigate the murders of a series of luckless indigents — and their strange connection to a brilliant young doctor.
"The House of Silk: A Sherlock Holmes Novel" by Anthony Horowitz. London, 1890, 221 B Baker St. A fine arts dealer named Edmund Carstairs visits Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson to beg for their help. He is being menaced by a strange man in a flat cap — a wanted criminal who seems to have followed him all the way from America. In the days that follow, his home is robbed and his family is threatened. And then the first murder takes place. Almost unwillingly, Holmes and Watson find themselves being drawn ever deeper into an international conspiracy connected to the teeming criminal underworld of Boston, the gas-lit streets of London, opium dens and much, much more.
2011年11月24日星期四
Forever family
The Nipomo home echoes with the pattering of eight small bare feet on hardwood floor, darting down the hallway into bedrooms, racing to slide open the patio door that leads to a backyard found in children’s dreams.
Thinking only of the idle trampoline, playground and chicken coop, some of the four young siblings are so overcome with excitement after a full day of school that they rush outside without stopping to put on shoes.
Jacque Barnett jokes with her daughters, Kate, 6, left, and Emily Rose, 5, at their home in Nipomo.
The Nipomo home echoes with the pattering of eight small bare feet on hardwood floor, darting down the hallway into bedrooms, racing to slide open the patio door that leads to a backyard found in children’s dreams.
Thinking only of the idle trampoline, playground and chicken coop, some of the four young siblings are so overcome with excitement after a full day of school that they rush outside without stopping to put on shoes.
By the patient tone in Jacque Barnett’s voice as she kindly yet firmly reminds her children of the rule, it’s apparent this isn’t the first time they’ve been forgetful.
Katie, 6, and a bouncing Emily, 5, step into matching pink clogs and join their brothers John Riley, 10, and Nicholas, 8, on the slide and swings.
Jacque stood smiling, monitoring the activity on an early evening last week with husband, James, marveling at their “forever family” — a term often used to describe a family that takes in and then adopts foster children.
The Barnetts are proud of their family, and they are proud to raise awareness for adopting foster children during National Adoption Month and for National Adoption Day, which was last Saturday.
The National Adoption Day Coalition expected 4,500 children in foster care to be adopted Nov. 19, which for 11 years has been designated as a day to finalize adoptions for foster children to families across the country.
“I think it’s great because there’s lots of kids who don’t have a forever family,” said Jacque,
who stays at home with her kids and helps out in their classrooms at Dorothea Lange Elementary School. “We’re really blessed.”
Jacque, 41, and James, 40, met while studying at Cal Poly.
She was from the San Joaquin Valley, he hailed from the Bay Area, and they settled on the Central Coast as a couple in their early 20s, ready to start a family.
After seven years of trying to get pregnant — discovering they both had fertility problems — and giving up on expensive fertility treatments, the Barnetts, then living in Grover Beach, turned to private adoption.
A brown-haired John Riley came first from a mother in Hayward, and Nicholas arrived two years later from Georgia.
Unofficially, the Barnetts said, they’ve been foster parents since John Riley arrived as an infant and they waited for the adoption paperwork to become finalized.
The Barnetts officially became certified for foster care around the time Katie arrived at 3 months old, taken from a mother in Santa Maria who had drug-abuse problems.
“We went into foster care because we wanted to adopt more kids,” said James, who teaches at Miller Elementary School in Santa Maria. “We knew we wanted girls.”
It took 18 months to finalize Katie’s adoption, the longest of the four. Nicholas’ adoption was the quickest at 8 months.
They welcomed Emily at 3 days old from Santa Maria for reasons similar to Katie’s placement in foster care — except Emily’s mother still was using drugs while she was pregnant.
The Barnetts were able to adopt the now rambunctious, smiley girl with a blonde-bob haircut, acknowledging that Emily would and does have some special needs and might have Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) like her brother, John Riley.
Both girls were adopted through Aspiranet, a nonprofit charity that has for 35 years worked to ensure that California children are placed in permanent, loving homes — touching the lives of more than 10,000 children.
Adoption is not a truth the Barnetts hide from their children, especially since they don’t look like the typical family, although they clearly function like one.
“Of course we stand out,” Jacque said, noting Nicholas’ black skin and her and James’ fair skin and light hair. “But people on the Central Coast are very kind, very accepting.”
The kids have seen their baby pictures, birth certificates, even their adoption papers.
On a day last week, the family flipped through photo albums together until the youngsters could sit still no longer.
They understand that their family is a bit different, but they love each other as siblings do.
“Adoption is a great thing ... for kids who don’t have homes,” Nicholas said, as he and John Riley looked up from a Lego magazine long enough to good-naturedly hassle each other.
“Sometimes we tickle each other,” John Riley added.
After 17 years of marriage, James and Jacque have moved their family into a bigger house and property in Nipomo, and they are out of the foster-parent business.
They know they’re lucky they were able to adopt foster children because that’s not always the case.
“They call adoption a ‘back-pocket plan’,” Jacque said, adding that foster parents should have their hearts in the right place going into the process.
This is the first year all four kids are in school, which means the Barnett family only will get busier from here on out with sports, clubs and homework.
School is a challenge the couple readily accepts, just as James and Jacque set their mind on parenting more than a decade ago.
“In the end,” James said, “it’s worth it.”
Thinking only of the idle trampoline, playground and chicken coop, some of the four young siblings are so overcome with excitement after a full day of school that they rush outside without stopping to put on shoes.
Jacque Barnett jokes with her daughters, Kate, 6, left, and Emily Rose, 5, at their home in Nipomo.
The Nipomo home echoes with the pattering of eight small bare feet on hardwood floor, darting down the hallway into bedrooms, racing to slide open the patio door that leads to a backyard found in children’s dreams.
Thinking only of the idle trampoline, playground and chicken coop, some of the four young siblings are so overcome with excitement after a full day of school that they rush outside without stopping to put on shoes.
By the patient tone in Jacque Barnett’s voice as she kindly yet firmly reminds her children of the rule, it’s apparent this isn’t the first time they’ve been forgetful.
Katie, 6, and a bouncing Emily, 5, step into matching pink clogs and join their brothers John Riley, 10, and Nicholas, 8, on the slide and swings.
Jacque stood smiling, monitoring the activity on an early evening last week with husband, James, marveling at their “forever family” — a term often used to describe a family that takes in and then adopts foster children.
The Barnetts are proud of their family, and they are proud to raise awareness for adopting foster children during National Adoption Month and for National Adoption Day, which was last Saturday.
The National Adoption Day Coalition expected 4,500 children in foster care to be adopted Nov. 19, which for 11 years has been designated as a day to finalize adoptions for foster children to families across the country.
“I think it’s great because there’s lots of kids who don’t have a forever family,” said Jacque,
who stays at home with her kids and helps out in their classrooms at Dorothea Lange Elementary School. “We’re really blessed.”
Jacque, 41, and James, 40, met while studying at Cal Poly.
She was from the San Joaquin Valley, he hailed from the Bay Area, and they settled on the Central Coast as a couple in their early 20s, ready to start a family.
After seven years of trying to get pregnant — discovering they both had fertility problems — and giving up on expensive fertility treatments, the Barnetts, then living in Grover Beach, turned to private adoption.
A brown-haired John Riley came first from a mother in Hayward, and Nicholas arrived two years later from Georgia.
Unofficially, the Barnetts said, they’ve been foster parents since John Riley arrived as an infant and they waited for the adoption paperwork to become finalized.
The Barnetts officially became certified for foster care around the time Katie arrived at 3 months old, taken from a mother in Santa Maria who had drug-abuse problems.
“We went into foster care because we wanted to adopt more kids,” said James, who teaches at Miller Elementary School in Santa Maria. “We knew we wanted girls.”
It took 18 months to finalize Katie’s adoption, the longest of the four. Nicholas’ adoption was the quickest at 8 months.
They welcomed Emily at 3 days old from Santa Maria for reasons similar to Katie’s placement in foster care — except Emily’s mother still was using drugs while she was pregnant.
The Barnetts were able to adopt the now rambunctious, smiley girl with a blonde-bob haircut, acknowledging that Emily would and does have some special needs and might have Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) like her brother, John Riley.
Both girls were adopted through Aspiranet, a nonprofit charity that has for 35 years worked to ensure that California children are placed in permanent, loving homes — touching the lives of more than 10,000 children.
Adoption is not a truth the Barnetts hide from their children, especially since they don’t look like the typical family, although they clearly function like one.
“Of course we stand out,” Jacque said, noting Nicholas’ black skin and her and James’ fair skin and light hair. “But people on the Central Coast are very kind, very accepting.”
The kids have seen their baby pictures, birth certificates, even their adoption papers.
On a day last week, the family flipped through photo albums together until the youngsters could sit still no longer.
They understand that their family is a bit different, but they love each other as siblings do.
“Adoption is a great thing ... for kids who don’t have homes,” Nicholas said, as he and John Riley looked up from a Lego magazine long enough to good-naturedly hassle each other.
“Sometimes we tickle each other,” John Riley added.
After 17 years of marriage, James and Jacque have moved their family into a bigger house and property in Nipomo, and they are out of the foster-parent business.
They know they’re lucky they were able to adopt foster children because that’s not always the case.
“They call adoption a ‘back-pocket plan’,” Jacque said, adding that foster parents should have their hearts in the right place going into the process.
This is the first year all four kids are in school, which means the Barnett family only will get busier from here on out with sports, clubs and homework.
School is a challenge the couple readily accepts, just as James and Jacque set their mind on parenting more than a decade ago.
“In the end,” James said, “it’s worth it.”
订阅：
博文 (Atom)