Tag Archives: sustainable

There Are Raccoons in My House

Those lovable little rascals have a way of knowing when you’re gone, leaving your house free for them to go exploring.  Well, I think our government is much like a pack of raccoons that are always into mischief.  While our friend the raccoon is busy looking in the refrigerator, opening all the cupboards, finding and snacking on whatever he can.  The end result is similar to a bull in a China closet.

Now, enter our government.  They have a different way of opening my front door and inviting themselves in.  They do it with our U.S. census that the constitution says that all the government need do is to get a head count.  The I.R.S. not only  wants your dollars, but there’s much to be learned in the way our tax forms are constructed. Then come all your regulatory agencies each with their own kind of information to collect.

We’re down to: “How is Uncle Sam going to save me from all the poor choices I’ve made?”  First of all, you have to have a problem. That means we need an agency full of bureaucrats to define the problem then do what they were hired to do, which is write regulations that may help and may not.

My favorite problem that Uncle Sam says he will fix for me is all that pesky rain that falls from the sky.  They quite correctly determined after many studies and conferences that it was unlikely that they could control the flow of rainfall from a storm cloud.  But, after it hit the ground, a rain drop is fair game to be regulated, to be charged a fee for crossing a state line and taxed if Mr. Drop finds himself stopped in a government  reservoir.

The government agency that was lucky enough to win this very sought after boondoggle was the Environmental Protection Agency. I’m sure that all the top bureaucrats in government wished they could have been the chosen one as the potential for legions of workers at all levels to put Mr. Drop where he belongs for the greater good.  So, as long as rain still falls from clouds and regulators maintain their zeal to regulate, this agency can have eternal life. Wouldn’t you know that the EPA has picked a name that nobody can be against: The Clean Water Act.  This act dictates that the waters of our country be restored and maintained and their chemical, physical and biological properties be upheld.  Again, who could be against cool clear water?  So how far do you carry a mandate like this?  After attending one of EPA’s hearings and reading extensively about the act, I’ve come to the conclusion that the EPA feels that everybody of water from the smallest puddle to every blue line stream on a topographical map is included in the Act.

What troubles me the most about government at all levels today is the total lack of trust that land owners could possibly also want to do what’s right.  I can’t stand this idea that regulations, to be just, must paint all stewards of the land with the same brush that we paint the bad apple with.  What we should be doing is rewarding those that are “slowing down water” as Mother Nature does.

A reward system would have a budget to operate with for pennies on the dollar compared to bureaucrats in Washington D.C.
“TRUST ME,” I say and we will all win.  Do I think that this is a realistic solution?  Yes.  Do I think this approach could be adopted?  I think it would be marked dead on arrival at the EPA.
See Ya
Jack

Melding Reality and Perception

Is this much ado about nothing?  Well, I happen to think that the citizens of this wacko land spend way to much time in the province of perception and way to little in the land of fact.

I once wrote a blog about a school  administrator who must have perceived  that our children of tag-playing-age are so delicate that the slightest sight of a bloody nose is worthy of a trip to the local emergency room.  What about the reality that children need exercise?  They need to laugh and giggle, and they especially don’t need some administrator who is more afraid of possible criticism that he or she might sustain than the proven benefits of  playing TAG! Reality takes a hit; score one for perception.

I love horses and dogs but, like me, they are going to die one day.   Maybe those of us who have had a chance at life need to step aside and allow a new generation their chance to shine.  When is that time?  Well, for me it’s when there’s no quality left– only pain and infringing on others.  The horse or dog  will suffer the ravages of time and when their lives have been well lived, reality tells those that are truly compassionate it’s time to let them go.  This is where reality takes another hit.  In the case of the horse, by law we have closed all the abattoirs in the United States by just not funding U.S.D.A. inspectors ensuring that the harvesting of the horse is both humane and sanitary.  Instead, most old horses are sent to Mexico or Canada to meet a very uncertain end.  The people and the legislators that think they’re doing something wonderful should hang their heads in shame.  The same goes for those of us that keep others among us from passing because of our advancements in technology that allow the narcissistic people that legislate this technology to prolong our lives even when the quality of this life is reduced to a beating heart and lungs that go in and out.

Reality has to win at least one time, giving me hope that 2+2 still = 4.
See Ya
Jack

Free, Free at Last

I think Dr. Martin Luther King uttered those words.   My use of these stirring words are trivial to say the least when you hear what I have been freed from.

It all fell into place this 5th day of May 2013.   Zee and I traveled to Paso Robles today to meet a new intern from France.  Theo arrived by bus from San Francisco and will be riding some of our young horses for the next several months.  As we entered town on Spring Street I thought we should be passing  a vacant grocery store, but much to my surprise there was a dream being brought to reality.  Some fellow was going to put his sweat and his riches on the line to prove that he had a better way to sell groceries than the last guy who closed up shop. That’s what I like about capitalism, when for whatever reason somebody throws in the towel there’s always someone willing to pick up the towel and reinvent it.  We just have to be careful that government which is usually a day late and a dollar short doesn’t enact some law or regulation that kills a new idea before it’s able to walk.  A new sign by the edge of Spring Street announces a grand opening will take place on June 12 for Smart and Final grocery stores who I hope has invented a better mouse trap to sell groceries.

But, I’m on my way to Walmart.  Upon entering this wall to wall stuff with some rubies among the rubble, I zigged and zagged through this  obstacle course to the pet food section.  I found myself standing there disappointed that the shelf space for Old Roy’s High Performance  Dog Food was empty.  How am I going to once again tell my dogs Bob, Tilly, Spider and Bear that Walmart’s inability to keep their shelves stocked, will force them to dine on brand X?  YUCK.  In fact, I was told by a person who stocked the dog food section that they would no longer carry their very own brand of  high performance in a bag.

Smart and Final here I come! Here’s to hoping that you have carts with round wheels that will travel aisles unfettered with stuff and signs to direct me to a dog food that Bob and company will love.  For  tee shirts and shorts that I need on occasion I think I will give Target a try.  Free, Free at Last.
See Ya
Jack
P.S. Update: it’s August 24, 2016.  Smart and Final did indeed invent a better mouse trap as this now 3 year-old store has been a success since it opened for business where you can fill the back seat of your car with a handful goodies or a truck load of canned spinach
to last a life time.  But, I still have to go to Big Wally to buy their high performance dog food as Bob and company said they would strike if I tried to pawn off some other brand on them.  So every couple of weeks you will find me with a shopping cart that is sure to have at least 1 square wheel trudging through Wally’s obstacle course knowing full well that they only thing keeping this mega store alive is their high performance dog food.

Never a Dull Moment

Spring time at the V6 is really busy with our 3 cattle drives in April and May, gathering and pregnancy testing 250  first calf heifers, and receiving 280 head of Mexican cattle to brand and vaccinate.  Add in the fact that we are in the middle of getting 75 acres ready to plant 11,000 Pistachios trees on, and that’s a full schedule.  However, everything had to take a backseat to the events that unfolded this evening.

Zee and I helped our son John and his wife Barb put on a spur of the moment cattle drive.  This worked for me because I was still about 80 head short of cattle.  Zee and I went along to help out and gather some of our missing cattle.  This drive had 14 guests and family wranglers.

We started on a Tuesday and rode about six hours gathering and riding to our Mustang Camp where we would all stay Tuesday and Wednesday night.  Wednesday was another pretty long day riding for seven hours.  By Thursday, five of our guest had worn their fannies to the bone, so we gave them a ride back to our headquarters in a pickup.  That left five extra horses to lead home.  What we normally do is put them through a certain gate that lets them travel about 6 miles to home.  Well, their leader’s sense of direction must have been off as he led his four friends into a dead end brush alley that engulfed them so tightly that they could not go forward or turn around.  Friday morning arrived and no horses standing at the gate so Zee and I decided to go looking.  No luck but we were sure that by afternoon they would be waiting at our gate. Late afternoon came and went.  Son John volunteered to go back to where they were last seen and track them on foot.  I would wait 15 minutes and then drive to Mine Mountain trail and meet John.

No John in sight, but his wife Barb arrives to meet me with a cell phone message from John to meet at Catfish Camp.  I have my 6 horse trailer in tow,  so off we go to get John and the horses at Catfish Camp.  We arrive to a camp with no John and no horses so we wait and wait some more.  Finally, we decide to go look around and see if he came down a different part of the mountain.  No luck.   Barb and I start to really worry is John is hurt.  Where could he be? This being a no cellphone service area, we decide that we need to go back to where Barb parked her side by side utility vehicle and put the search into full gear.

As we round the last bend in the road and the side by side comes into view, there stands John with one horse in tow.  Barb’s face goes from the look of dread to joy.  John’s cell phone had been dead the whole time.  He told us that the other four horses got away because he only had one halter.  He said that they looked like they were headed back to Mustang Camp.  We load the one horse in our trailer and head to Mustang Camp where we had just spent the last three days.  It’s just about dark now and as the corrals come into view, there stand four horses waiting to get into their pen.  I can’t be mad anymore because all’s well that ends well. 
See Ya
Jack

What a Wonderful Life, Maybe

The eighth performance of the National High School Rodeo Association has just finished and Zee and I have chosen to linger a while in the grandstand to let the crowd move out.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch a gate swing open that leads into the arena were the bull riding has just finished.  Suddenly, into the arena runs all the bucking horses that had just done their best to dislodge future bronc riders– and the not-so dedicated ones that are thinking “I might want to take up another sport.”  The picture that I’ve attached to this story shows the wonderful condition that the stock contractor who owns these horses keeps them in.  I watched as this band of about 100 got  some exercise.  They trotted and galloped for a little while, then broke into a walk.  You could plainly see that this was a happy lot.

These horses are born to buck, much like Thoroughbreds are bred to run, and cow horses make their living working around cattle, and work horses find a place when pulling a plow or wagon.   All horses wear man’s fingerprint in the selection of the genetic traits that will make up our various breeds.  With their D.N.A. code directing them, they can go do what they do best .

Hoses are a gregarious lot that find comfort in numbers.  If left to roam, they will travel several miles a day grazing, playing and satisfying their curiosity as to what’s over the next hill.  Bucking horses are usually kept in big pastures free to eat and roam.  Now, let’s take a look at the bucking horses’ cousins that live in our towns and cities, housed in box stalls by the  thousand.  Many will spend their entire lives in these stalls never free to roam.  If these stalls were used for humans, we would call it a prison cell.  It is just as much a prison for my friend the horse where she must waste away the years being treated as a toy.  She is ether overfed or underfed, but boredom and loneliness soon cause aberrant behavior that shows itself with maladies like cribbing, weaving, and pawing.  When people enter their prison stall you may be greeted with pinned  ears and a hostile eye showing their contempt for the way they have to live their lives.

You mean to tell me that Mr Bucking Horse gets only 8 seconds to show his or her stuff before being sent back with their friends to maybe discuss how they threw that young whippersnapper to the ground?  What about the flank strap that they wear?  Well first, it’s lined with sheepskin.  It’s designed to tickle the same as when someone would tickle the bottom of your foot and you squirmed and laughed.  So what’s left?  The question becomes, if you were a horse where would you like to call “home?”
See Ya
Jack

Visualizing What Can’t Be Seen

“Seeing is believing” is a time honored quote that has a lot of wisdom attached to it. However, in agriculture this saying can hold back change.

I have become more and more aware of the importance of feeding the soil before anything else, which can no longer be just a nice thought but a mandatory practice.  Feeding the soil is an ongoing process that is 75% visualizing what’s going on as you can’t see beneath the soil surface.  “Seeing is believing” is the other 25%.  The 25% proof is healthily growing things all around that you can see and touch.  The soil that we all stand on everyday has more life in the top one foot than all the life from the surface of our planet to the stratosphere.  Most of that life is microscopic, so to feed these critters you need a real small spoon.  That real small spoon is called a Compost Tea Brewer.  It takes compost and washes all the microscopic life leaving it suspended in water, which can then be distributed over the soil.

For most of us, me included, we have much more faith in “seeing is believing ” than in what can’t be seen.  But that is exactly what we must do.  We must put the same amount of faith into the the unseen:  the microscopic world of bacteria, fungi, nematodes and many more critters that make up soil microbiology.  This then becomes the Achilles heel of feeding the soil first.  This method that requires a certain amount of faith matched against “seeing is believing” has a tough row to hoe.

We have weeds, so we buy a herbicide;  in short order that weed is dead. We have bugs eating our crops, so we buy a pesticide; those bugs that came to put me out of business soon lay dead upon the ground.  Our crop has a somewhat sickly look, we bring a sack of Nitrogen fertilizer to the rescue and in a matter of days a healthy green look returns.  Why would anyone in their right mind want to change a system that gives off so much instant gratification?

For many years I drank the Kool-Aid with the rest, but I can no longer turn a deaf ear to all of the disturbing events that present themselves almost on a daily basis.  The chemical industry has produced some 80,000 new chemicals, which do not exist in nature.  What disturbs me is the fact that not all these chemicals are user friendly to us or the environment.  I know that the whole world is one big chemical factory, but Mother Nature has her chemical factory in perfect balance.  I’m not so sure our man made factory is as well balanced.  In fact I’m sure it’s not.  So I’m going to cast my lot first with the microscopic world knowing that Mother Nature doesn’t deceive.  Then I’ll add some patience and I’m sure that happy green growing stuff will sure enough surround me.
See Ya
Jack

Comfortable Shoes

When I was young and in my prime I used to wear those traditional cowboy boots with the pointed toe and high heel.  At the top of each boot was a loop big enough to put your index finger into.  Then with some grunting, heavy breathing and pulling, your foot slipped into place just like a tongue giving a French kiss.  Back then, any cowboy worth his salt knew that this style of footwear allowed your foot to come out of the stirrup if your horse was really serious about bucking you off.  I was in the camp who knew that getting bucked of was more likely than staying on and the ground was going to greet me shortly.  With that in mind, I’d better be looking for the best place to land, and I didn’t want my foot hung up in the stirrup when I took my high-dive.

But no more!  Today I ride my friend Fuzz, who assures me that he doesn’t want to use all his energy to put me on the ground.  Besides, we have a mutual admiration for each other.  With hitting the ground no longer an issue, and no longer wanting to make a fashion statement, comfortable shoes with no point-to-the-toe here I come!  Today my toes can wander, no longer trapped inside like a bunch of folks squeezed into one of those high rise elevators in New York City.

I’m also finding pleasure riding a new horse who my daughter has loaned me for the spring cattle drives.  Bugs is closer to the ground, so gravity is not such a big issue.  I can throw my saddle on without having to grunt and groan.  Getting on a tall horse used to be a big event that required hunting for a log or a rock to stand on.  With Bugs, why, I can just get to his high side and hop on like I could in my younger years.  Yes, comfort is more important these days than the pain of breaking in new shoes.  My current shoes have take care of my feet for the past four years. They are so comfortable that they are going to get the call for almost any occasion.  Happy toes are more important to me than people’s opinions.  I mean the people who see me coming and whisper to each other that if that guy had just saved for his older years he wouldn’t have to wear those scruffy, comfortable shoes.
See Ya
Jack

Is Sustainability Possible?

It better be, because as I see that the status quo of our present agricultural model is not working.

The over-use of nitrogen fertilizers is causing them to leach into our underground aquifers as nitrates.  The nitrates pollute the aquifer before we pump water to the surface in a tainted form to grow our crops.  Then we wonder why so many people drink bottled water. Over-use of the herbicide RoundUp has caused weeds to mutate and become RoundUp resistant.  The list of law suites grows daily claiming the herbicide causes cancer.  The oldest agricultural practice of all, plowing the soil, is now being called into question because of the loss of top soil to erosion. This is caused by the exposed bare soil to wind and water.  I could go on and on sighting instances of farming practices that are mining our planet on a world wide scale that are not sustainable.  But before I numb you all to the pillaging that is going on 24/7 to our home called Earth, I want to pose the question: “Is their a better way?”  I believe there are better ways; some of them known and some yet to be discovered.  Those of us that raise the food and fiber for the masses must also ask the question: “Is there a better way or is there a different way?”  My frustration is that so few are willing to even ask the question.

I believe change will come as our old sclerotic farmers and ranchers pass from the scene.  What is ironic as I wait for kinder and more effective ways to raise our veggies and livestock?  The answer is showing itself with a new breed of kids on the block coming from our cities and families that don’t make their living from agriculture.  This new generation is passionate about their new found profession and are not weighted down with the millstones of tradition.  Some will argue that you don’t throw the baby out with the bath water.  I’ll agree to saving the baby but you must promise to at least teach him to ask the question: “Is there a better way?”
See Ya
Jack

I’m Running For President

My country encompasses that lower part of Monterey County, California.  The northern boundary is King City and the southern boundary is the San Luis Obispo county line.  It runs from the Pacific Ocean east to the Fresno County line in the west.

If you’re going to have a country, you have to have a capital.  Parkfield is the name of ours; population 18.  It has all the trappings of a fully functional city.  Why, we have the finest one room school in the land, an Inn and Cafe,  a state of the art town hall, rodeo arena, church with service on Wednesdays, and a Cal Fire forestry station.  We are the earthquake capital of the cosmos.  I think other folks on other planets in the cosmos must have earthquakes, but I’m sure ours are the best.

I’ve heard tell that if you’re going to run for president you have to have a platform.  It’s supposed to show what I plan to do for my country!

I believe that our future rests with our youth.  So what am I going to do about it?

First, I will fire the principle of any school that wants to ban tag from our grammar school  playgrounds.

Secondly, I will have a duel minimum wage that will allow our youth under the age of 18 to let the employers of our land and our youth decide what each kid has to offer in the way of energy, skills, cooperation and attitude to measure their worth.  In our present day society most youngsters are priced out of the labor market because of the minimum wage.  The employer must pay more than they’re worth so these inquisitive, energetic  kids are relegated to spending their learning years consumed with television, cell phones, drugs or some other destructive habit.  Let’s quit wasting these precious years in the name of child welfare.  What we’re doing now to our youth is true child abuse.  Let’s let them work and play at jobs and games that leave them with an optimistic view of themselves.

Third, everybody in this day and age needs to know how to drive an automobile.  In our country of mostly country roads, I propose that our youth learn to drive at 12 years of age.  Anything learned at a young age is always better than at an older age.  Dancing is much the same; learn to dance when you’re young and less inhibited and it will come easy.  In my country, dancing will be offered in grammar schools.  Plus it’s good exercise.

Fourth, exercise will be mandatory.  Those that exercise will be less likely to become couch potatoes in later life.

Now we have a good academic environment for kids to learn in.  If book learning is not your cup of tea, vocational programs will be as important as studying to be a lawyer (which we have far too many of).

The government that governs best governs less.  This means you’re going to have to make it mostly on your own.

Next, we need to practice the Golden Rule ( do unto others as you would like them to do to you).  It’s the best way I know of to get along with your neighbor.  If you really want to put frosting on the cake of neighborliness, don’t keep score, and do 51% of whatever.  You know, that probably will work in a marriage, too.

The right to keep and bare arms will not be denied.  Private property rights, though not perfect, is light years ahead of any system a government might dream up.  I see many more stewards of the land doing a wonderful job now than I did 30 or 40 years ago.  We need a little patients as the old miners of the soil die off to be replaced with new younger stewards. Once armed with new sustainable ways to care for the lands of our nation, they will move into the decision making arena.

By the way, the name of our nation that I would like to preside over is Cholame (a Yokuts Indian word meaning “The Beautiful  One”). Add in a motto to live by– never yell whoa in a bad place– then throw in a song to brighten your day (Oh What a Beautiful Morning from the stage play Oklahoma) and you have my platform.
See Ya,
Jack

The Good Earth Needs a Vacation, Too

Have you ever wanted to tell somebody something that you thought was important but your choice of words might fall short? Well that’s where I find myself right now. Trying to create a picture in the mind of others on how Mother Nature would like us humans to care for her planet Earth.

First, I believe we can no longer think of our planet Earth as if it were a slave  that can be bought and sold with absolutely no regard for its health and well-being. To think there will be no consequence for constantly adding billions of new people to our population,and growing the world’s economy at 2 or3% forever is wrong. But the people of the world demand this. So we elect the kind of representative who will promise that we  will do the impossible by keeping the status quo. I can just see Mother Nature roll her eyes and give out with a sigh of disbelief.

I don’t know if we are in a natural or man-made period of global change but whatever the case I think any caring person has to at least say “I’m part of the problem and I’m willing to be part of the solution.”

This brings me to my contribution which says, “I will no longer believe that this good Earth is my slave and I have every right to rape and pillage as I see fit, after all, I do pay the taxes on it.”

Now I know that I’m getting into that zone  where human emotions dwell, where the rednecks, religious zealots that use their religion to justify their hates, the animal rights wackos, the environmental do-gooders who many times don’t know how to do good, the “don’t bother me I’ve got to go play golf on a beautiful green turf in the middle of the desert” men, politicians headed by our Governor Brown  that want to build a bullet train to go  from San Francisco to Los Angeles all get worked up.

The problem with these single minded people is their single mindedness binds them to their agendas so tightly that there way is the only way. Well these people obviously have no consideration about how their actions might affect the whole. I believe that for our planet to survive we must give more consideration to the whole when making decisions.
I know that change is usually uncomfortable, but without it new solutions to old problems are impossible. My problem that held me back for many years was my belief that I was a cattleman that raised cattle for a living and took the grass that they ate for granted. But with my new found religion ( a belief system called Holistic Management) I was able to see that cattle were just a part of the whole that I had to grow grass for my cattle to eat first. This process is just a small part of the whole. My question to myself was: how on a family ranch such as ours does one start to construct a whole that will be around for a long time so all the critters that call our ranch home won’t find themselves homeless?

Our ranch is one giant 20,000 acre solar panel that gathers sunlight through the leaves colored green by chlorophyl. Add some water and carbon dioxide and you will change this sunlight into sugar for green growing things that become food for all grazing animals. For humans this process is most necessary because it produces what we breathe every day: oxygen.

What are the management practices that over time will heal my past mistakes? The first decision that affects the productivity of the ranch is to make the rain that falls on the land stay as long as possible. Mother Nature does it by putting up obsticles to slow the movement of water in a number of different ways. Having the soil surface covered with grass, trees and brush slows water significantly. Now enter our grazing animals cattle, horses, goats, sheep and all the wild grazers… they are all an absolutely necessary part of our ranch environment as they can convert grasses and other plants into salable meat while fertilizing and rejuvenating the soil.

I believe that into each life a little rain must fall. But joy, love, giving, and caring must also fall so why not create a place where this can happen?  To the people that live in our cities but have always had a yearning to be outside with horses and cattle, trees and grass, we welcome you.
See Ya
Jack