Tag Archives: urban farming

Good Friday: Thoughts on slaughter

I’ve spent this semester – what is to be my last semester taking classes ever – studying the slaughter of animals.  It’s not for the fainthearted. Prior to these past few months, you could think of me like the actors in Portlandia: very concerned about the life their chicken (named “Collin”) had before ending up on their plate.  I try to buy organic, free range, blah blah blah.  But come

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Where is “understanding” in discourse: A rant about publishing.

Part one of two “Now is not the time for bad theology,” a classmate of mine said.  He was recalling a story of being comforted about the death of a friend.  People responded to their own fear and uneasiness with platitudes like, “He is in a better place,” and “This is God’s will.” Why do we feel the need to cling to these Christan-ese easy answers? And this isn’t just

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The most meaningful meal of my life

THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS SEMI-GRAPHIC IMAGES.  DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH KILLING/EATING CHICKENS OR IF YOU HAVE THEM AS PETS. (P.S. it’s a long entry – no way I could make it shorter). I’ve tried starting this blog 3 times.  The first time, I ended up writing 14 pages and it will most likely be a chapter in my new book.  The second time turned into

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Five Favorite Gardening Cookbooks

“I saw a recipe for stuffed artichokes…” “Oh I know where that recipe is,” I said and was out of my chair in an instant. “She has this gift,” Beth said to her visiting sister smiling. “Name a recipe in this house and she can turn to the page.” “I can?” I inquired completely oblivious from the cookbook shelf.  I pulled the first cookbook off the shelf that I thought

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What’s for dinner: Fig Jam, Prosciutto, Mozzarella Panini

I have a cookbook with this on the front: It’s been teasing me since we got it as a wedding gift almost seven years ago.  But fig jam isn’t something I normally picked up.  I thought figs lived in cookies – something dreamed up in a laboratory somewhere and stuffed between dough and sugar. Then we bought our house and as it turns out, came to discover an old Mission

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Gardening Tips – Favorite books

Spring is in the air… no, really. As witnessed by my last two blogs, the spring air I am breathing is making me rant and pray in my yard while others of you just seek to enjoy your own.  However, I have heard a few little rumors that some are intrigued by what we’re doing and would love help knowing where to start with their own gardening endeavors.  If not,

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A Rebellious Gardener’s Hopeful Rant

Spring is here. I was doubtful for a bit with late rainstorms and typical gray mornings, but the mockingjays mockingbirds are sunning every morning reminding me their slumber is over. A few curious things have happened in the past couple weeks. 1. I finished my first school year as a faculty member. This leads to 2. I am fully entrenched in working and researching for the next book.  Which means

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What’s for dinner: Roasted Potato Leek Soup

I used to avoid potatoes.  My college nutrition class told me they were complex carbohydrates.  I avoided them for a number of years on principles I vaguely remembered now that I am not being tested on it.  But potatoes and I reconciled about a year ago because they are a farmer’s friend. They are cheap; they pair with everything; they keep.  I wish I could say they are easy to

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Gardening with Doxology: Big words for a simple idea

The sermon yesterday was on letting things slow us down to lead us to the table; a table that holds bread and wine, also promise, tradition and hope. An altar of forgiveness and remembrance — of radical hospitality. It is an embodying act, this eating. Sure it can be rote, but the meaning comes sometimes subtly and other times overcome with tears or joy. It’s the love of what this

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Growing-up in Italy

My office at home overlooks the street below bordering the front yard.  From my desk, I can see people driving, walking, and biking as the day moves forward.  Between grading, writing, and lesson planning, I steal glances every now and then to see people stop and pause to look and point at what is happening on our little patch of land. Over the years, it has looked like everything from

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