Mrs. Bergman

In the last two years a new business has been established South on Highway 25, Season's Harvest, a commercial greenhouse outfit, which has expanded several times in modular fashion. An article in the local paper gave the name Bergman to this enterprise, and a friend in the gardening business said that "Yes, there were Bergmans in the plant and greenhouse business all over the place" Perhaps this was the latest incarnation of this.

Well, I thought back to Mrs. Bergman, who ran a greenhouse/plant operation on Highway 36 in Roseville (?), Minnesota. I was travelling 36 to a woman friend's place at the time, helping her to develop her side garden. Plants were needed and this place was handy to say the least. When I first saw her she appeared to be an ancient one, wizened somewhat, her wrinkled skin very dark with the sun, white hair pulled back in a kind of bun, with a bandanna. Her helpers addresses her as Mrs. Bergman, and I soon found myself calling her that too.

I let her know that I was in the gardening and landscape business, had been gardening since I was a child, on and off, and displayed a modest knowledge of her plant stock and let her know what I was looking for. She had quite a few plant flats that were somewhat bedraggled (mostly a matter of keeping up with the watering), and some were marked down as bargains. The interesting thing was that she either refused to listen and remember what I shared with her, or she just wanted me to know that she was going to "educate" me regardless of what I knew or thought I knew.

I've been there before, I'm sure you have as well. But Mrs. Bergman made it different somehow. Hers was a kind of ancient feminist stance, not only applied to her help, but to me, and presumably other male customers as well .. perhaps with women customers too, I don't know (I wish I could have observed her with other women). She was an authority, and part of her stick
was to instruct you on what she knew, regardless of what you might know. She got away with it with her style, she "laid it" & you were expected to go along.

So, I called the Mr. Bergman of Season's Harvest and asked if this venerable lady might be one of his family members; or, if not did he know her, know if she was still alive. No answer, yet. But I'm going to call again one of these days. Off season, the man may be in another state, perhaps a "snow bird," I don't know. So what (?), as Andy Warhol would have asked. Well, this aged woman was of interest, from another world in a sense, and if she is around my guess is that people are still addressing her as Mrs. Bergman.

Get BIG or get out

A recent story in the neighborhood concerns a farmer who bought farms and more farms, cows and more cows, and then had a bad fall off (I hear) his tractor. He seemed to be following the dictum (who said it originally, back in the Eisenhower days, not sure?) about the wisdom of volume or else. Another local farmer increased his milking herd to the point that he not only had to go with Spanish speaking help, but to run into problems with his manure lagoon and (perhaps) poison the waters around him, including ours.

We moved and downscaled drastically, in part because of my age ... and in part because of the water situation. I'm glad we did, although it was hard. We lost some money and lost seven or eight years of hard work and planning. Now my wife, Joni, has to go to school and take on debt to get a nursing degree. This version of "Small is Beautiful" is just a part of the huge trend of working off the farm because of farm size, in part, but also because of the so-called "economy" (?). This is not a new trend, it has been going on for sometime, and is much more complex than I can describe.

Small is beautiful, and we are looking for ways to make it work; for ourselves, our neighbors and supporters. Cooperation with other small farms is critical, and difficult. Farm people tend to be loners, individualists, and some of the people who have been hired to try and make "local" growing, marketing, selling and delivering are learning as they go, as they try and learn to help us. It will be necessary to get on the phone again, try for meetings this winter and spring before the next "season" consumes us again.
Vamos a ver.

Current Events

Last Wednesday, December 29th at 4:30 p.m. Joni Lynn Cash and I got married at the Dunn County Justice Center. Richard Yonko presided, John Thomas, Kathy Ruggles and Aaron Roberts were witnesses. We had tapas and drinks at the Zanzibar Restaurant in Menomonie aftewards, Diana Witcher joined us there.

We request that relatives, friends and acquaintences refrain from gift giving, and instead give small donations to one or both of the following organizations: Farmer to Farmer and/or Stepping Stones of Dunn County. For Farmer to Farmer, their website is www. Farmer to Farmer.Org, look for the get involved link, & donate button. For Stepping Stones, their website is www. stepping stones dc.org. Watch for the icon donate now. Farmer to Farmer deals with fair trade coffee and woven materials from Guatemala & Honduras, and helps build and maintain community structures in communities there (schools, libraries, a hospital, etc.). Stepping Stones works with homeless and hungry people in Dunn County, Wisconsin. Thank you.

Bravado & Adrenalin

Several years ago driving back from the farm to Minneapolis I found myself climbing the long grade west of Menomonie next to a semi. It was growing dark and snow seemed to be falling faster by the minute. Both the truck and the pickup I was driving had to shift down as we got the top of the grade, and after I did I shifted back up and I noticed a vehicle about to pass me on the shoulder, inside lane. Whaaat? & he kept coming. As he got along side of me and started to hear some stupid words (in the neighborhood of "holy shit") go through my mind, I shifted back down and applied my brake pedal just enough to warn the vehicle behind me.

Next the vehicle shot across my bow on a diagonal, seemingly flat out, a little white sports car, and my adrenalin went into action as I fond myself gripping the wheel and wondering what next (?). Fortunately the semi had fallen a little further behind and the car shot into the lane he was about to occupy. I floored it and then realized that fortunately for everyone concerned the sports car went off the highway, through the shoulder on the far side; because when I looked in my side view mirror the truck had not hit him, and the headlights behind the truck were seemingly continuous.

No one in their right mind could even think of stopping, my hope was that five or ten cars back someone was able to pull off on the shoulder and see to the driver. Perhaps one of them had a cell phone (?). The drive on to Minnesota and Minneapolis was indeed strange, full of those ghostly white phantoms that appear in blizzards, and seeing several cars and trucks in the ditch. When I finally got to the rest stop just inside the Minnesota line I was extremely relieved to stop and go inside, to feel confident enough to rest and let myself come down. But I forgot to call the Highway Patrol, and then was unhappy about that after I got on the road again.

North Passage & Recent Developments

For more information on "North Passage" go to Links and then on to information about the production, my part in it, how you can support and keep track of the progress of it. This is a good example of regional, national, and international trends toward "local" work, sustainability, progress. Several futurists of note have speculated that "local" is the only way out of the huge problems mankind has gotten itself into.