new documentary: “American Meat”
I just saw the trailer for this new documentary about the American meat system, starring Joel Salatin, the Shenandoah-valley farmer who has come to fame and fortune thanks to his philosophy of sustainable animal-husbandry and land-use practices as well as his continuing efforts to educate the public about the effects of America’s industrial food system. You might recognize him from the 2008 documentary “Food, Inc.”
I’m very much looking forward to the movie’s release; maybe we should get together and have a watch party!
Want to join a CSA?! Then Visit the KC CSA Coalition’s table at the 13th Annual Eat Local and Organic Exhibition of Farmers – Saturday, March 26 in Independence and Saturday, April 2, in Shawnee. You can meet farmers in person and find lots of delicious local fare to buy – the earliest harvests of the season, greens, herbs, etc. Plus meat, eggs, and dairy and transplants for your garden.
Each Expo will have workshops on how to eat local and food preservation plus chefs demonstrations from local, renowned chefs.
For full details click on the flyer below. See you there!
This actually made me laugh out loud, so I thought I’d share it with you all. :)
via City Farmer News
–sb
[This article first appeared in American Mercury (November 1937).]
“A farmer, eh? Master of your own time, down to the city for a spree. Y’know, I’ve always wanted to break away and have a little farm in the country.”
I used to be a timid, thin man. I never got on very well in the city. When I was talking to people, they tended to drift away, or they turned to someone else and said: “Having nice weather, aren’t we?” I didn’t see in my job any of the heroic aspects my superiors were always glorying in, so probably I wasn’t very good at it.
For a while I turned to poetry and wrote a beauty about the song of the hermit thrush, but everybody in the office thought it was la-di-da. I didn’t like noise or smoke or subways or hurrying or playing golf or getting drunk Saturday nights, so I began to think there must be something wrong.
I went to a psychoanalyst who told me I disliked everything too much. For this I took a great dislike to the psychoanalyst. I refused to pay five bucks for this new hate, and the psychoanalyst ended by hating me. So I decided to “get away from it all” — to move from the city to the great quiet of the country and simplify my life. I bought a farm far up in New England, and I bought a cow, too. I had always wanted to own a cow and watch it cropping my grass while I dreamed the days away.




