Local foods VS Costco
March 7, 2010
The problem with the whole local foods movement is that when it comes right down to it, consumers are slaves to their training: they resolutely search out the lowest possible price, and the kind of food everyone admits is good for you costs 30 to 40% more, so most people talk one way and then load up their carts at Costco with factory-grown chicken, pork, and imported fruits and vegetables.
This kills the market for local food. Of course it’s hard to feel enthusiastic about a cartload of Costco.
Then there’s the look on the faces of visitors to the sugar shack when they get their first taste of Canada tea, made with boiling sap and a tea bag. First it’s amazement at a new taste they haven’t encountered before. Then they look a bit bewildered: “Why am I so surprised by a new taste? Why does everything in my life taste the same? And this came from a tree?” Off they go to the woods to gather more sap.
Then there’s Christopher and his discovery of black walnuts. This pint-sized hockey player found that if he put his back into it, he could make the walnut press generate the 700 lb. of force it takes to crack the shells and give him access to delicious meats inside. He cracked a lot of nuts once he got the hang of it.
Roz and her friends have often told me that Kingston has a great deal to offer to those who live there, but the one big gap is the lack of a great, wooded park in which to wander. Christopher’s mom came back from gathering sap and enthused: “This is way better than walking around the trails in the Cataraqui Conservation Authority.”
It seems people think differently about prices when they are engaged in acts of tourism. Perhaps it’s because the thought process is longer with a vacation: tourists aspire and dream; they travel; they drink in the experience; they remember it and use it to shape their other experiences and world view. That’s much different from the immediate choice to buy pork chops or the frozen lamb at Costco.
The challenge for local food producers is to take their customers clean away from the cutthroat thought patterns of the supermarket shopper. They need make their products part of an enjoyable and memorable vacation experience to which their customers will want to return, with the price of the food a minor factor.
If individuals become tourists to explore and search for sensations lost through the commodification of modern life, why shouldn’t they find a fresh reality in the countryside? Why shouldn’t they discover the joy of fresh-picked corn, or spend a lazy afternoon under a mulberry tree, eating their fill of the strange, refreshing fruit?
How about a day picking grapes or planting trees, if extreme vacations are your thing?
My son tells me that there are no distances in air travel. The only directions are up, down, and hot.
Tourism involves a journey, but if there are no longer real distances, why can’t the journey be twenty or forty minutes to a vacation destination, instead of across the continent? Why couldn’t a garden plot provide a perfectly valid “other place” to which one’s soul can yearn to escape? Families travel to give their kids experience and understanding of their world, yet how many suburban children have ever milked a cow, planted potatoes, picked raspberries or gathered eggs? No parents would want to deny these experiences to their kids if the facilities were within easy reach.
How many of you remember biting into a fresh carrot which exploded its sweetness on the tongue? I tried a store-bought carrot a week ago and almost cried from disappointment. It was orange. That’s the best thing I can say for it.
40% more for the real thing? Sounds like a bargain — if I have stood in the garden from which it came.
Ice Reports: Newboro Lake 2009-2010
December 12, 2009
Note: I haved moved this file from this “post” to a “page” on my blog where it is easier to update. Just go to https://rodcroskery.wordpress.com and look in the right margin for the up-to-date version. Rod
January 20, 2010: After a promising start to the winter, the ice has received a major setback with a couple of weeks of mild weather. Yesterday Otter Lake was open in the middle. This morning I noticed that it had frozen over. Woe betide the snowmobiler who tries to cross that thin skiver of ice! Chances are it will open up again the next mild day. Yesterday was mild and overcast, so I looked around for a potential ice fishing site. Portland showed deep ruts in the slush from an ATV grinding out to a fishing shack. Opinicon Lake at Chaffey’s Locks has a lot of open water, as it usually does, though with little current. The big surprise was the pair of trumpeter swans which buzzed the cedars at the end of the point. Man, are those birds big! I counted seven of them in all on the ice at Chaffey’s.
Without a week of very cold weather the ice will remain no good.
January 5, 2010: There’s ten inches of ice in the bay at Portland, but the middle of the Big Rideau is still open. Ominously, the opening in the middle of Otter Lake seems to be growing larger as snow accumulates on the ice. To judge by the lack of tracks, people are staying off the ice so far.
December 20, 2009: A couple of test holes on Newboro Lake a hundred feet out from the village shore show five inches of ice. While helping my friend adjust his bubbler so as to allow the northern boat launch ramp to freeze properly, I noticed that there’s a decent gravel bottom along shore once a bit of the sediment is washed away.
December 18, 2009: The Big Rideau at Portland and Otter Lake seen from Hwy 15 both showed full ice cover as far as I could see this afternoon.
December 16, 2009: The run of cold weather is firming things up. Apart from the spots of open water caused by bubblers under docks, the Newboro end of the lake seemed to have formed a nice sheet with a little snow on it.
December 12, 2009: The ice is back, folks. I noticed that Morton Creek was mostly frozen when we drove by on Hwy 15 yesterday. Ice formed overnight in the bays and the village end of Newboro Lake. Indian Lake wasn’t frozen over when I looked earlier today, but we broke a half-inch or so of ice to make way for a bubbler on a dock on the Newboro waterfront.
Stone House Reno 5: moving the tools out
June 25, 2009
The end of June
All my life the end of June has been the time to say goodbye, take a rest, and start on a new project. I suppose it’s fitting, then, that today I moved the tools out of the stone house we’ve been renovating since my retirement in the fall of 2004. My shop, refuge, and storehouse for the last thirty-five years has now officially become a dwelling. One floor still needs some sanding and the whole thing needs varnish, but the days of muddy boot tracks to the bathroom have now come to an end.
I’ll miss the time I could put visitors at ease by chiming the house rule as they came in through the door: “No boots in the shower, but they’re optional in bed.”
Bet’s done her best to remain tolerant of my mess for the last few months, but I tend to believe actions more than words, and the two hours of frantic vacuuming upon each arrival at the farm for a weekend sent a clear message: it was time to get on with it.
She even helped me move the tenon cutter out of the living room. It’s a heavy relic from a pre-war factory, and the only way to move it without destroying the floor turned out to be by winching it up to one of the timbers I had installed as a room divider. Once I set it on a heavy plywood dolly with a chain hoist, it was pretty easy to move around. We managed to wiggle it out through the front doors (weeks of work on those doors) and into the bucket of the waiting loader.
Today two saws, a jointer, and my prized Poitras shaper made the trip to the barn. This made me sad. It was like leaving the comfort and security of my childhood home. Funny, the beds, the food, two computers and a television are still there, but it’s the shaper I miss. And I haven’t even had the thing for that long, only about three years. But it’s had a hand in everything good or interesting I have done in this renovation: the flooring, the cabinets, those muntined glass doors Bet insisted upon, the passage and entrance doors, the windows, the baseboards, the stairs, the crown moulding over the doors and windows, even the ceiling and window paneling – it all came off that shaper.
So now I face the grueling task of cleanup. The floor is littered with scraps of walnut from the stair-railing project and a lot of pine shavings from the final door casing in the bathroom which went on this morning.
Oh well, once that’s done I get to drive my floor sander around for a day or two. The old Clark drum sander is far from my favourite tool, but it’s heavy, loud and powerful, so it should stave off nostalgia for a little while until the varnished-floors regime becomes oppressive and I lay out the foundations for a new shop.
For other articles in this series check:
https://rodcroskery.wordpress.com/category/renovating-a-stone-house/