A Farmer's Friend

Now here's a little beauty, though the photo probably doesn't do justice to the fiery orange flashes running along his sides!

I damned near jumped out of my skin when I literally tripped over this big boy while on my field walk yesterday. A good two plus feet long, which is pretty fair for a garter snake this early in the season. Beautiful markings along his sides and a very triangular body.

We love snakes on the farm as they dine on the voles and mice that delight in eating the vines and digging burrows here and there. I do believe that the herons and hawks take more snakes than rodents, the latter being afforded excellent cover by the vines. This fellow clearly has survived more than one season and hopefully will render us good service for the privilege of being allowed to patrol our bogs.

It has taken some effort by me to learn to respect the serpents that live on the farm.

When I was five, six and seven we lived in northern France and I had terrifying tales of the dangers of all snakes drummed into me by my parents. Admittedly there were several species of poisonous snakes in the area and my sister and I tended to forage off the beaten path when we were out and about in the countryside.

After returning to Canada we lived in New Brunswick where my boyhood fishing forays were always preceded with lectures about the dangers of the Eastern Rattlesnake.

Two years later we were in Ontario and it was cautions about the dreaded Mississauga Rattlesnake. Not surprisingly I have had a visceral and largely irrational response to snakes ever since.

But, on the farm they are a valuable co-habitant of the land.

A Walk at the Lake

I drove out to Pitt Lake late yesterday afternoon for a walk on the dike. What a strange sight, fifteen or so boats and boat trailers in the parking lot and only four passenger cars. This, mind you, on the Monday of a long weekend.

So, it was about five-thirty and raining lightly with clouds seemingly very low, but the snow capped mountains showing. Quite a claustrophobic effect.

I walked the dike for about an hour and just couldn't believe that there wouldn't be anyone else inspired to take a stroll in a mild rain.

I must admit that I used to head out to the lake with a friend for walks and it was a better trip taken with company. That being said, the luxury of an evening walk in the rain and the attendant opportunity for reflection was a pleasant bookend to the day.

canoeing the alouette

This is the way to spend a mild Sunday afternoon. Messing about in the canoe on the river. Warm, a light breeze and not another soul on the water. What a great day!

Augustine: Philosopher and Saint

So, a month or so ago I listened to a Great Courses lecture series entitled, Augustine: Philosopher and Saint. A good listen, but I was struck negatively by many of his thoughts on what I think of as the hard parts of dogma.

This past week has been mostly field work at the farm and I've taken the time to listen again to the course. It is a strange thing how I can hear one thing one time and something entirely different another.

No mistaking, the parts on Predestination, Original Sin and The Trinity seem to me to be intellectual messing about that is quite foreign to the take that I have on scripture, on the Christian faith.

That being said, what I have heard on second listen was a man struggling to capture the essence of what his faith was grounded in.

The piecing together by Augustine of an elegant exposition on our relationship to God, and more importantly, God's relationship with us was nothing short of transformative for me.

Over the course of two afternoons plodding away in the rain I gained a bridge between my faith as that which exists in me, or that which exists through controlled expression within my community, and my faith as my relationship with God, expressed in how I relate with others across the board, day to day.

This may not seem such a big thing to many, but for me it is. I have never had trouble maintaining relationships, particularly when they are contained in well trod ruts. Augustine talks of relationships that transcend our comfortable patterns. In this manner I have always failed, apart perhaps from my relationships with my kids.

I cannot but wonder if the lack of the insight that I have found in this course, and through re-reading Confessions and City of God, after listening to it again isn't what has kept me somewhat isolated over the years. Certainly I think that playing safe in personal relationships is almost a guarantee of those relationships being short-lived. Having weathered three marriages I speak from some experience in this matter.

I find myself looking back over the past few years and viewing failed relationships in the light of the understanding that I seem now to have gained.

Well, we don't get many chances to undo the past. I'll look forward to the future to see if the change that has rolled through me is as deep as it seems.

My kids tell me that I think too much. They may be right, but when a person or a book or some other media reveals deep insights to me, especially when those insights then transform me going forward, I say, think on...

farm stuff

Sage and me scattering and stippling new vines into damaged areas of the fields. Rain, rain and more rain. Sage follows the theory that as soon as it stops she takes off her rain coat; me, I just keep the damned thing on. damned thing?, well, here's how it goes: waterproof garments don't breath and the work generates a heck of a lot of body heat which causes condensation on the shoulders of the inside of the jacket which will get a fellow really wet in about an hour. No win... You might think that good Gortex would deal with the problem but you would be wrong. Mountain Equipment Co-op told me that in heavy work the fabric can't keep up. I didn't believe them and shelled out for a coat which was only marginally better than your run of the mill Helly Hanson product. Oh well... Sage will only be at the farm for another two or three weeks. I'll miss her when she is gone, as she is a very hard worker. Finding young folks these days who can go steady in a physical setting for seven or eight hours is not easy.

at the end of the day

I used to think that only dairy farmers woke up at five every day!!! Bloody hell...

Well, today is a two church service day for me. Our rector is off on a well deserved cruise in southern climes and the EfM group is putting on a Service of the Word in his absence. The SotW is a regular worship service, absent the priest forgiving our sins and blessing the sacraments. These functions being the exclusive province of an ordained priest is an arcane carryover from a very long time ago.

In any event, I have been asked to talk at the services today, for less than five minutes mind you, about theological reflection as we practice it in EfM. Should be interesting.

I do puzzle, as I work the fields during the week, about this faith journey that I find myself on. Mostly I came back to it, after a long hiatus, when the girl's mom was dying. That is likely a very human response to the big ugly. After almost ten years at St. George, including the benefits of some deep relationships with very faithful believers, and four years of EfM, I am fairly certain of what I don't believe. Hell? Nope, can't see such a place in the context of a loving God. Heaven? Perhaps, as an abstract term, but probably not. God? Yes, though my certainty is based on experiential observation and we pretty much know how flawed that can be.

So, why do I trip along this path? There is that recurring experience of the divine that I have been blessed with. Mind you, given my families history this could be a symptom of a disorder of the mind. There is the connectedness with other believers that is intertwined with my Christian tradition. There is the liberating comfort of reflective prayer. There is the tradition of my people.

Perhaps not the best of reasons to practice a faith. On the other hand, we are here for only a short time and listening to the inner voice is as fine a way to frame our existence as listening to the telly.

I suppose, at the end of the day this is the call that every person in every religion has at the root of their being. Perhaps

Farm stuff

Well, spring has definitely sprung at the farm. The last two weeks have seen us finalize the re-planting of three and a half acres and get started on spraying Callisto on the fields.

Callisto is a herbicide and we are trying a new application method in the hopes of cutting back on the work load that comes with wiping weeds in the summer.

Last year we spot treated the weedy patches in May and then had a tremendous growth of Yellow Loosestrife, Sheep Sorrel and buttercup throughout June. Mid-July is when the pre-harvest interval for Callisto kicks in so the only way to deal with the infestation was to wipe.

The tool for wiping is a hollow tube shaped like a hockey stick. On the blade it has a bit of absorbent material that that the mixture of Roundup and water in the handle weeps out through and which is wiped on the tops of the weeds. Very laborious, particularly in thirty degree weather.

This year we are spraying all of the vines and early weeds and will repeat the treatment after about two weeks. We shall see if this works to control the problem.

Daughter Jessie is following true love to Halifax on Monday. I must say that my feelings are very mixed about the move. Joe is a good guy and it is apparent that they are deeply in love with each other. He has a great opportunity back east and his family is in New Brunswick, so there will be some support for them there. On the other hand, I will miss the girl something fierce.

Alley starts college on Monday. Now this is good news. She is just coming up on the first anniversary of her graduation from high school and has not shown a lot of interest in getting a job or going to school. The course is training to be a care aid in hospitals and she seems really enthused by the prospects it will offer her.

Well, that should be enough for now.