13 December, 2018

"Just" Water


Even before I turned 10 it was obvious I had an insatiable appetite for history. I loved to sit with old folks and hear them tell me about the days gone by and by 13 I could have been certified as a Civil War expert. I had checked out The Sinking of the Bismark so many times from the school library, no one else had a chance to read it while I was in 5th grade and part of 6th as well. Except for the lack of love scenes, it behooves any screenwriters out there to give it a look – what a plot! But that has nothing to do with today's topic.

I had a good grasp of Kansas history as well. I knew about the pro-slavery Kansas constitution and the anti-slavery constitution – the latter is the one that won out after some bloody confrontations giving rise to the name “Bleeding Kansas.” I actually lived in both capital cities – Topeka, the anti-slavery capital we all know and Lecompton, KS about 18 miles east of Topeka, the pro-slavery capital that is mostly ignored.

Finally in high school I came across material on The Dust Bowl, and it simply floored me that no one I had talked to had ever said a word about it. I lived in Northeast Kansas, which was about 150 miles east of the Dust Bowl's eastern line, but such a phenomena would surely have affected beyond the borders drawn on a map. Yet, none of my mentors had even mentioned it.

Last week, on a day off, I immersed myself in Ken Burns' film, “The Dust Bowl” and watched the whole four hours (or so) in one sitting. It was my second time to watch it, doing it all at once was a bit overwhelming even with the knowledge I had going in. If your anti-depressant Rx is up to date, it's an eye-opener for sure, but without meds, it is one helluva story to follow. It was one of the “top five natural disasters” in the world and it was entirely man-made. Let that sink in. Mind you, as it happened, the humanity involved had no idea that they were at fault, but none-the-less, absent the mass of humans with their tractors and their plows, and there is no The Dust Bowl. A rather long drought, did nothing to help it, but it would not have caused the blowing dust that killed animals, domestic and wild, and humans alike. There had to be humans and their tractor pulling plows.

There was one mention at the very last of the film that I want to explore today, something I had heard of several times, in the back ground of other conversations, but here, in the film, a man was saying we have 40 years left and I began to calculate from the film's 2012 release about when he gave those numbers – six years ago, plus however long in production.

The forty years left was in reference to the Ogallala Aquifer.

The Ogallala Aquifer is a massive body of water that lies underground from South Dakota and Wyoming, through Nebraska, Kansas, Colorado, Oklahoma and New Mexico, ending in Texas. While it's been known about for some time, becoming a part of the White Cultures' science just over 100 years ago, the Ogallala was left pretty much alone. In they years around WWII, farmers began to use the Ogallala to grow crops that needed more water than they had and once farmers had a vision of all they could grow using the aquifer's water, the dam burst, so to speak, giving rise to the gloomy prediction of forty years left. The Ogallala provides 30% of the water used for irrigation nation wide, and also supplies many mid-Western municipalities with their drinking water supply.


The Ogallala Underground Aquifer
from Wyoming to Texas touching eight states.


Once depleted, the Ogallala will take 6,000 years to replenish. This is a finite resource. No politician seems to have the heart to say, “Uh, folks? We have a problem here,” and it's a big problem. The Ogallala is being drained in years with good rain, because farmers can grow crops that would not be attempted without that water. It is used heavily in rain short years to keep the traditional grain crops producing. It is used too heavily and this consumption needs to be addressed to prevent this resource from disappearing.

Without the water, a whole new chain of so-called “Okies” will hit the road for – literally – greener pastures, only California won't be one of them. Our water shortages are as bad as the Great Plains, if not worse. California agriculture ships alfalfa, a heavy drinker of a plant if there ever was one, rice and other plants to foreign markets which is absurd because in the real world we are shipping our water overseas – water we can ill afford to give up to make a farmer – or more likely, a company that grows the alfalfa and so on. Our precious water is sent across the world when shortages are already here – if one should have any doubts, a quick internet search on the water levels at Lake Mead should quickly clear that up.

Of all the concerns we have about Global Climate Change, the one I never hear is lack of water – and yet that figures in the equation – especially when we also waste huge quantities of water in fracking. The chemical soup that is used in fracking – too toxic to reveal just what compounds are in that mix – ruins water and something like four tons of water nets use one ton of undrinkable oil. And that water is never coming back. There is no way to clean fracking water – it is an unclean catastrophe that will serve no good to anyone for the rest of the life of the planet, unless a miracle occurs.

We all need to be on the front lines pushing our governments to do more with less – to control this abuse of water and to make sure there is ample water for future generations. We can start by using less ourselves – I subscribe to the belief that we must treat water like the sacred, limited, precious life force that it is and so I take fast showers, lest frequently; I put cold water in a bucket while I wait for my water to heat up and use it around the house (no, I don't want an instant hot water unit – that hot water tank figures in my survival plans as a source of water today!). But let's all be cognizant that all our water is a limited resource – whether you are growing crops that need more water than your locality can afford, or shipping the plants you irrigated across the ocean, noting that those plants used the water that had to be pulled from the Colorado River (which already doesn't have enough) thereby degrading the amount of water we have for wildlife and humans alike. We need to make these points to our Congresspeople and to the world at large.

Just water” is only “just” until there is no more. It is precious and a vital part of life. Let's value it and work to show everyone the priorities we need to embrace.

david

03 December, 2018

The Fair Maiden and The Orange Tomato



(Some blogs seem so uni-dimensional. I'd like to present something a little lighter than most of what I'm writing here. This was written in July 2006, in the height of our tomato season... this is an email I sent to the woman who had planted the tomato plant. She did email back, but didn't make it out to the Garden to sample her tomatoes... There is ONLY one grain of truth in this story... Might even be half a grain... )



From the Baker Creek catalog, Woodle Orange
www.rareseeds.com
And it came to pass that the summer did come and the land was filled with the heat thereof and the heat begat the fruiting of the tomato vines and the vines of all the land were lush with many tomatoes everywhere.

And the people were overjoyed that tomato season was once again in the land and they rejoiced with abandon and went from plant to plant, picking the tomatoes and many eating from the vine right where they stood relishing the deliciousness of the fruit warmed by the sun, sweet and succulent in its ripeness.

And lo, they came unto one plant with fruit a different color than they were used to, for though tomatoes have many colors, most are red or yellow, but this one was orange to the eye and appealing and many said to themselves, we have never seen a tomato like this tomato and they marveled at its color, but not so much that they did not eat the fruit. And when they had eaten the fruit they looked at one another and said, this is the bomb, behold an orange tomato that is sweeter than a Reeses Piece yet is a tomato! And they went with their discovery to the Wise Man in charge of the garden, verily, the one they call the Gardenmaster and they said unto him, look what we have found!

And the Gardenmaster, because he was wise and knew about orange tomatoes from a long time before, was not impressed and verily did say to them that had gathered, This is an orange tomato. So what.

Verily, they said unto him, loud with one voice, you must taste this orange tomato for there is none other tomato like it. And they offered him a fruit, which he did take and then saith, Why yes, that is pretty yummy.

And then the people pressed him pointing to the bush that brought forth such alluring fruit, From whence cometh that amazing tomato plant? And he spoke to them replying, It came from Nan.

And they all marveled and said with one voice, Nan?

Nan, replied the Gardenmaster, Nan came from afar and did plant that tomato plant which bears the orange, and quite tasty, fruit.

Oh, all the people said, who could this Nan be that she would bring to us such a fruit and leave it for us to eat and partake – what a wise and benevolent soul this Nan must be! And they talked among themselves in wonder and amazement who this Nan could be, so they turned to the Gardenmaster and spoke to him saying, Tell us all about this Nan.

And he said unto them, she is a fair and lovely maiden, beautiful and gracious and they said unto him, surely she must be rich beyond all measure and something truly extraordinarily different that sets her apart from all other fair and loving maidens.

And the Gardenmaster thought for a time and finally said unto them, Well, she IS Canadian.

And the people spoke among themselves with awe wondering what kind of wonderful and mighty place this Canadia must be that they grow so many delicious tomatoes that one of them could come to this garden and plant a tomato like this tomato.

But one among them was not impressed – he said unto them, I know several Canadians, they are just like Americans, only civilized. Verily they have civilized health care with no waiting lines and they have a peculiar adaptation of English, but they are thoughtful and have made a nation on the glaciers of North America.

Now the people were mystified greatly. Who could this Nan be that she would could plant such a marvelous tomato in their midst and leave it for others to enjoy, verily, not even returning to try the fruit, but to leave is if it were abandoned.. And so they pressed close to the Gardenmaster and they spoke unto him demanding an answer. Why would this fair maiden give unto them this plant? And he tried to evade them by shrugging his shoulders, but they would have none of it. Tell us, oh, tell us, Gardenmaster, they chanted in unison, Tell us.

And he tried to reason with them, saying, I don’t know why she hasn’t come back, but they would not hear him. Finally, in desperation, he cried out to them, All right, all right, I shall email her and ask her why she has not come back to partake of the fruit of her tomato.

And verily, quieted, the crowd was satisfied and in the wholeness of time the Gardenmaster did send an email to Canadia to ask Nan to come and join the frolicking in the garden in the summer of that year.

Sadly, upon all our hearts, did the email truly bounce.

david