I  don't mean to be critical of how you've been running the show these past 13 billion years but I don't believe you read my letter that I put in your suggestion box about how you might do things better. You’ve got to admit that we humans have been a pretty big disappointment to you with just as many wars as ever, poverty seems incurable and we haven't taken very good care of the house you gave us.  For your information we call our house Plant Earth.

               So I've got a suggestion and I'm willing to be your first Ginny pig, to live life differently.  What I'm proposing is that you let me start out old, I mean really old like I will start from my coffin and grow younger.  What do you think God? You’re saying OK, well if you don't mind I'm going to start getting younger right now.

                Let's see, I would like the day of my birth to be in the springtime with lots grass and flowers and my John Deer 310 G backhoe at the ready because birthing as I see it shouldn't be so painful and traumatic.  Just think of all the shoveling and sweating that won't be necessary to get me out with a backhoe.  I would also like my pall bearers to arrive in my 1947 Ford convertible and please God make sure that somebody  knows how to use the backhoe because if I'm going to get started in my new life I don't want some guy to bung me up before I get out of my coffin.  Ah I can hear the backhoe working so it should be just a few more minutes and I will arrive into my world.  Things will be different from the get go.  Like if somebody wants my foot print for my birth certificate there going to have to take my shoes off.  Shhh I think I can hear somebody trying to open the lid. Watch this; it's my 2 sons Greg and John there getting ready to lift me up.  They’ve got me by the shoulders and ankles so at that moment I rose up and yelled, “BOOOOO!” Why those boys dropped me like they had just grabbed a rattlesnake.   John fell backward onto the dessert table and Greg landed on a fresh cow pie, yes they were invited too.  I laughed tell I wet my pants which I hope will go away as I get younger.

                           Gosh, so what shall I do now?  I've got this wisdom bag that has taken me a life time to fill and it’s got all sorts of do’s and don’ts in it, like the warnings that I receive all the time from my inner self, from others and from the government (they’re the worst), for they have legions of workers whose job security depends on scaring the hell out of us so that now, a good share of our population can't get any work or play done as they spend all their time washing their hands. Then they give out a lot of crack pot solutions to our politicians to make more laws, to make us more fearful so that we will re-elect him or her to protect us.

                     Ya know I'm beginning to think my wisdom bag is stopping me from doing a lot of things that I want to do, especially since I've lost my turkey waddle under my chin, my grey hair is leaving and looking at the opposite sex has taken on new feelings so I think that I will throw my bag out along with common sense, especially since I've got my 1947 Ford convertible to run around in. What I really need to be is more stupid.

                     From time to time now when I'm laying in bed at night sometimes I catch myself thinking about the good old days and all my old friends that I've had to trade in for new younger stupid ones like me and I've also built quite an army of folks and institutions that don't like me very much. For example all our giant drug companies are feeling threatened because the pills that I used to take to calm my jumpy heart I no longer need plus I don't get sick much anymore and how about Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers and all the other weight loss companies that I'm sure own stock in Twinkie’s to guarantee a supply of fat people.  And it just dawned on me that it won't be long and I won't be able to see over the steering wheel of my 1947 Ford convertible.  What a dilemma!!  And ya know some folks that grow old have a bucket list well I've got to make up mine before I get to young.

                       Times moving pretty fast now, I'm back to having to take a nap every afternoon and dang it I just wet my pants. The next 9 months sound pretty good if you like to swim as I do so I plan on spending my time in my mother’s very own swimming pool and then in a flash I was gone in an orgasm.

                     Dear God:

                     I'm writing you to fill you in on how my life went by starting old and growing young. Well I'm here to tell you it wasn't all that I had hoped for but it wasn’t a complete failure either.  I think the basic problem with my idea was the fact that you built the whole universe around gravity which says that all that gas and stuff from the Big Bang gravity keeps pulling it together and making stars and solar systems and a whole lot of other stuff that we don't even understand which all gets old, die and then are born again. That made me as far as I know the only living being living in reverse which made a whole lot of people real nervous.  To quote the old saying, “I was trying to fit a square peg in a round hole” and our society wasn't going to have anything to do with it. But there were moments of bliss like not having to deal with all those old age diseases ,appreciating the opposite sex again , partying, carousing, and being irresponsible were fun but they were fleeting. This means that there is not going to be something new under the sun so it’s time for me to go to work.  Getting into my pickup I tell my dogs to load up,  look at all the beauty that surrounds me, count my blessings, pass a little gas as I open the door and say to my dogs, “Excuse me.”

See Ya,

Jack

               Forward by Jack Varian to "There Was No Law"
                                
            My father Sigurd Varian was born in the year 1901 and was raised for most of his school years in Halcyon, California.  He was my kind of man for he lived his life on his terms and what was one of his many endearing qualities was that he encouraged me to do the same. My dad was a seeker of adventures from racing his motorcycle up and down Pismo Beach probably around 1920 to giving flying lessons off that same beach which just about a year before he had learned to fly himself on.

                Dad was a curious sort and he always felt that there were better ways to do most things. In this quest he never settled for the status quo which prompted him to tell me one day that you had to be basically a lazy person to always want to make things easier and better, but he was far from it.

                My dad said he did some of his best thinking in the middle of the night and being a very logical guy I think it only fair that you enjoy one of his logical conclusions put into operation.  During World War Two my family lived in New York and my father worked for Sperry Gyroscope Corp. producing Klystrons; the Varian brother’s invention that made Radar possible. Being from California winter was not a season that mom and dad looked forward too and if your best solution to a problem came in the middle of the night and your shop was out in a cold garage then logic tells you that your metal lath drill press and various other tools really belonged in the bedroom. My mother was always a good sport about most things but this might have been pushing the limits of one’s good nature too far.  But if you consider it was war time and my mother’s brother was fighting with the British Army then my dad’s shop would be welcome into the bedroom but only until the war was over.  Then Mr. Lath and company would have to go back to the garage. I can remember awakening several times to the sound of I think the lath going thump, thump, thump.  I guess something must have been made out of rounds.

                Well I hope this gives you a measure of this honest caring man who I'm proud to say was my father.

                         See Ya,

                           Jack

                    
    September of 1953 was going to be one of those starts from the beginning times. June of '53 I had just graduated from Palo Alto High School as a big shot senior ready to make my mark in the world but the world wasn't going to let me make my mark until I paid my dues. This meant starting at the bottom of the heap as a freshman at California State Polytechnic College near San Luis Obispo, California better known as Cal Poly, an all boys, learn by doing tech school.

    Cal Poly that took five years of my life.  It was a place where I got five years older with no regrets and a boatload of cherished memories that ran the gamut from being stupid to thought provoking.  Cal Poly was a place where teacher taught me how to think and made me aware that we have the freedom to make choices. My teachers themselves were wonderful examples of the humane condition, and their classroom academics and vocational studies set out paths that had guide posts with good choices written all over them, but that doesn't mean that you have to always follow the high road as there's a lot to be learned by also spending some time in low places.

    The school that I attended that first year had old wooden World War 2 barracks that had double deck bunks for sleeping and the bathroom was outside then turn left to end of said building to share with ten or twelve others also at the bottom of the heap. Classrooms a good share of the time were held in ex army structures that were a far cry from today's wonderfully very expensive structures that certainly don't elicit any kind of aura that there might come a time when pulling yourself up by your bootstraps would be necessary.

    San Luis Obispo in the decade of the 1950's was a town of about 10,000 souls and when Cal Poly was in session you would add 3500 young men to the population, add more men who were needed to keep the fishing and Abalone fleets afloat at Morro Bay, Braceros to pick the crops, and soldiers to soldier at Camp San Luis.  So you can see there was a whole lot of testosterone being discharged into the atmosphere. Fortunately we had at the time a very progressive sheriff who saw the need to protect the young ladies of the county and what better way than to invite ladies of the night to take up residence on Park Avenue in Pismo Beach and for the field workers what could be more fun on a Sunday afternoon than to go to a good old cock fight with more ladies, I guess I will call them of the day, then add in a little gambling and you would have lots of happy campers come Monday morning.  By many of the locals we at Cal Poly were known as poly rats who would search high and low for fun and pleasure which could be as close as the local junior college or as far as Santa Barbara and their university hopping to get as little as a smile or you might just decide to go home for the weekend.

    Well wouldn't you know it, the San Luis that had found social solutions that worked also had a community of do-gooders bent on putting idealistic impractical solutions that won't work into action and their first order of business was to sack our poor sheriff followed by the age old house cleaning of all the dens of sin with much hoopla in the local newspaper.

    So for awhile fun fun fun was hard to find but all the old ways were about to make a horrendous or magnificent change (take your choice).  It started as a whispered rumor at first and quickly rose to shouts of disbelief but it was true girls were coming to Cal Poly and they were to take their place amongst us with equal rights.  Why do you know for some of us we might have to take a bath and others would have to spend an evening at the Laundromat?  So with the fall quarter starting in the year 1956 Cal Poly for better or for worse was open to educate all and before we knew it they were everywhere all 100 them, some even showed up at our monthly Rodeo Club meeting and had the gall to propose introducing Barrel Racing as part of our annual Poly Royal Rodeo. Quick somebody make a motion to outlaw this preposterous idea before they turn our world renowned rodeo into a Powder Puff affair. But all was lost as our faculty advisor arose from his chair to announce that from now on barrel racing would be part of our once glorious rodeo. I'll bet ticket sales go down 50 percent!!!

    I almost forgot I went to Poly to get educated so with my high school score card showing a whole bunch of C's there was plenty of room in the noggin' for knowledge.

    Victory garden part 5…I'm going to learn something.

    See Ya,

    Jack

A few of my favorite quotes that have helped me on my life's journey….

Happy New Year everybody and especially to those who like to get dirt under their fingernails.  Let’s start by vowing to fret less about what others think of us with this quote…

                 “What you think about me is none of my business.”   But it doesn't give you license to walk around naked.

The Peter principal says that “we rise to our level of incompetence”.  It is kind of like when we “get too big for our britches” and “bite of more than we can chew”.  It can happen to anybody like Tiger Wood or Charlie Sheen and General Motors went bankrupt and American Airlines just followed suit.  At our local level Jack Varian has pooped in his mess kit more than once.

So it follows least we get discourage that you:

                Never yell whoa in a bad place.

                Don’t ride a good horse to death.   So get off him and do some of the work yourself YOU JERK.

                Unreasonable fear has certainly taken a toll on my life so that now to the best of my ability         when I do the thing I FEAR the death of that fear is sure to come.

                All of us at times in our lives are cast in the role of being a teacher so when it comes to teaching                 animals and people the only rule I have is there are no rules except patience.

                Time is the best thing you can spend on a child.

                Well it's getting close to midnight 12/31/11 and one of the signs that time is passing me by is when bringing in the New Year can be enjoyed from my easy chair watching the Time Square ball drop on T.V.  This brings to mind what an old friend once told me when we were camped out one time and it was cold and miserable and this was his solution to our lot.

                ''The best place to be is where you’re at.''

                See Ya,   

                Jack

P.S. Don't forget we have the inalienable right to be happy or unhappy it's our choice.

                I believe the drought proofing process should start years before a drought visits your ranch or farm.  This endeavor can be like watching paint dry as it’s slow and much of the process is happening unseen below the soil surface where visualization is the only way to feel sure that something powerful is going on.  Well what is this little talked about thing that I find so important?

                Capillary Action that’s what!

                It's a happening that is ongoing in all soils at all times!! So go ahead roll your eyes but your actions above ground do have a big influence on whether Capillary Action will help you or hurt you. Conserve water!  For that's what the drought proofing processes is all about; conserving this underground glassful so that we can use it to our benefit at another time.
                     

                In the study of Hydrology this event that happens in all soils at all times is ongoing.  By definition, Capillary Action is an event where the attraction of water molecules to soil particles is responsible for moving ground water from wet areas of the soil to dryer areas with the strength to over come gravity there by keeping water migrating constantly from wetter locations to dryer parts.

                So you ask how this event is going to help me get ready for the next inevitable drought.  How can I make it work for me instead of against me?

                I like to visualize the soil beneath my feet as being a big glass with water in it so it's up to me to keep the glass as full of water as possible.

                Somebody once asked me how I go about trying to keep the glass ready to accept the rain that will fall upon our ranch and the minerals and organic matter that need to make their way to the root zone to help all the green growing things on the soil surface.

                For a good many years my stewardship was founded upon what my neighbors were doing and what I thought were the accepted land management norms of our cattle industry. And now you might ask what the outcome of using this kind of information was? Well it sure wasn’t taking me to where I wanted to go. What I did see thought was that my ranch operation was on a death march and that the progression could be slowed somewhat depending upon how much money I had in the bank to mask my unsustainable practices.
                   

                1991 was the year of my awaking. My friend George Work invited me to attend a 3 day seminar in Paso Robles, CA. It was called Holistic Resource Management and promised a new way to look at the way I was grazing my cattle. Well this was right up my alley as our persistent now 5 years of sub- normal rainfall was doing me in and I didn't know how to fix it.

                Allen Savory wanted me to assume that the decisions I made about the management of our ranch could be wrong and that that my management practices needed to be examined and monitored and if my present way of doing things were proven to be wrong they must be changed. Gosh nobody in our industry had ever told me that what I was doing was taking me down a trail that probably would lead to my demise.


March 10, 1995...Flooding of Little Cholame Creek...rained 8" in one night.  Notice no trees here then!

                It was an “AH HA” moment.  I was given permission to think outside the box and now armed with 3 days of new ways to look at old problems and Allen's text Holistic Management;  A New Framework for Decision Making I was born again and ready to start living and working on our ranch no longer tethered to ideas that don't work.


March 10, 1995...8" of rain fell overnight causing one of our worst floods in 30 years


July 20, 1996...Summer after the 1995 flood.  Same location as the flood waters in the above photo.

                      I think the first thing that I tackled was to stabilize the Little Cholame Creek which is a seasonal creek that in wet years ran lots of water and was quite destructive. Because of my stewardship and the previous owners the banks of the Little Cholame were denuded and needed to have a chance to rest long enough to get our native Cottonwood's and Willow Trees, Sweet Bush, Buckwheat and creek loving grasses growing again. I used a government cost sharing program to fence my livestock so they could no longer live in the creek at their leisure. It was amazing how fast the Cottonwood's reestablished themselves growing as much as 8 feet per year the first few years.

Cottonwoods sprouted in Spring of 1993 were severely damaged in floods of 94-95. 
95-96 this picture tells the story ...some cottonwood trees grew 8' in one year.

                Seeing the City Slicker movie gave me the idea that this was something my wife Zee, family, beautiful ranch, and horses could do. We would take paying guest to help us gather and move our cattle on our 20,000 acres that makes up the V6 Ranch and we are now into our 18th year hosting these events.

                There have been many other changes that have taken place these past 20 years and each one has had a common thread, they all slowed the velocity of water. This common occurrence has become my most important monitoring plan and now it's etched into my mind, speeding water up is a bad decision and slowing water down is a good thing.

                What then becomes my most important water conserving practice? I think it has to be a grazing priority that strives to do away with bare ground? First it slows a raindrops journey to the closest creek. 2nd the point of this blog is to explain the importance of capillary action. Ok I know it's taken a lot of sentences to tell of my visualized observation that depends on logical progression to prove the damage that bare ground does.  I know from firsthand experience that in the summertime a stretch of bare dirt will have a temperature 20 to30 degrees higher than soil that is shaded from the sun by grass and leaves and the amount of the soil that cracks open is many times greater than soil insulated from the suns heat. So with capillary action constantly bringing soil moisture to the surface and ground that is now cracked open logic tells me that I'm going to lose much more of my imaginary glass of water to evaporation than ground that is insulated from the sun with organic matter. Therefore it will take more rainfall to replenish my ground water from grazing practices that over bare the soil.
                         

                In the winter months the reverse is true, shaded soils are insulated from the cold so new grass will have a warmer environment to grow and rainfall will be slowed thus giving it time to percolate deep into the sub- soil. Capillary Action will work in reverse as the soil surface after a rain is wetter than the sub-soil and if you have a healthy earth worm and other critters population water will move down even faster.
                         Again my imagination tells me that by striving to not over bare our soils the sharp peaks and valleys that are a product of poor grazing habits will diminish so that a line on a piece of graph paper will look more like low rolling hills. I think I've rattled on long enough but there are many more pieces to this art form called agriculture.

                              See Ya.
                                 Jack