Notes from Week One

Given both the means by which we’re able to access the Internet and the pace of working with my dad, I’ve blogged less than I planned. Here’s a list of various and sundry items from our first week with the entire family out on the ranch.


Head Lac

We managed to make the Dyer family arrival to Kansas official with our family tradition of head lacerations. Canon and I were playing as we were tucking the kids into bed. He jumped back quickly, hit his head on the headboard, and we were off on a 40-mile drive to the nearest emergency room. Four staples later, Canon is fine, and we now feel completely at home.


Beef. It’s what’s for dinner.


But not if it’s your own. Those of you who know me well know that I’m a big fan of meat. Growing up, my family had a deep freeze that always held various cuts of beef wrapped in white butcher-block paper, with “Dyer” and the cut of meat stamped on the side. While we had our bi-weekly meals of Spam, most nights we simply went to the deep freeze and thawed hamburger, or steak, or liver. Every now and then, at the bottom of the deep freeze, we would be stuck with heart or tongue. When we needed more beef, Dad simply took one of the cows into the meat locker.


As it turns out, the practice of actually butchering and eating one’s own beef is no longer tenable. Or, at least, it’s no longer efficient. I asked Dad if he still occasionally butchers a cow for his own meat, and he said that the nearest place to have a cow butchered for personal consumption is in a town over an hour away. For some odd reason, this saddens me. In part, the change in practice pokes a hole in my Wendell-Berry-driven vision of a local food economy. Mostly, it seems to diminish the independence of ranch life a bit. A step further from self-sufficiency. A step closer to being merely a cog in the agri-business machine.


It’s a Small (Sabbatical) World

I realize that any parallels between my sabbatical and Kim’s are going to be difficult to find. However, the playwright William Inge was a native of Independence, Kansas. The town 40-miles away, where my dad lives. Independence has only a community college, but each year it hosts a William Inge Festival . This year’s festival (later in April) features the annual production of Inge’s most famous play, Picnic. This year’s production of Picnic is being directed by Kim’s good friend from NYC, Michelle Pawk. (The special honoree for this year is Christopher Durang.)


Pictures

I hope to upload some pictures before too long. Probably because we're out in the boonies, pictures don't seem to upload to Blogger very well over my cell phone connection. I'll try again when I'm in Independence, where the higher transfer speeds are available.


Highlights

After a week, I find I've really enjoyed the routine of feeding cattle every morning. It's sort of mindless endeavor (though probably because I'm so ignorant of such things that my mind doesn't have any fuel to burn) that is nevertheless rewarding in it's own way. There's plenty of time for thinking, and there is something very special about actually being out in the natural world. We've seen deer about every other day, as well as a coyote and a pair of smoldering bunnies. (More on that last item later, perhaps.)