Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Am I Local Or Loco? You Decide.
When I was in Asheville I walked around taking pictures of signs with the word "local" in them.
"It's like shooting fish in a barrel," I kept saying.
Everything in Asheville is local.
Which is cool and awesome. We should all practice local more. Buy local. Support our neighbors whether they are artists or cheese- or candle- or diaper-makers. Or growers of tomatoes or raisers of pigs or makers of bacon (yes, especially those) or potters or brewers or musicians or bakers.
We should. Because it does matter and we all know it.
But how does a community form like the one in Asheville has formed where local not only matters but has become a way of life?
I don't know.
All I know is that Asheville is a spectacularly nice place with a lot of commerce, a thriving downtown, excellent food and the sweetest, most polite people I've ever met. As Hank said the first night we were there, "The devil does not live in Asheville."
The word "earnest" kept coming to my mind. The people of Asheville seem to be honestly earnest about making their home a place to be proud of, a place to raise children in, a place to retire to and be busy in. A place to try out a dream.
No. I am not moving to Asheville. As far as I know.
Unfortunately, sometimes, like Hank, I just want to dance with the devil. You know what I mean?
Plus, my roots here are too damn deep.
But I sure am glad I have Asheville as a place to visit.
Mr. Moon and I had a fine, local time of it last night right here in Lloyd. We still had some of those bream on ice and instead of frying them, which is the time-honored traditional and delicious way to cook them, I dipped them in egg (local) and milk (not local) and then in Panko and flour and cornmeal and baked them. I also made some rosemary potatoes. We are still eating potatoes from the garden.
They looked like this:
I don't know why I always take pictures of food in the oven. I guess I like the lighting there.
The garden is just about done but the cherry tomatoes have put forth one last, valiant effort and we went out and picked a basket of them along with a few peppers and one regular tomato. They looked like this:
Unfortunately, we left the damn basket where Damn Buster could get to it and this morning, it looked like this:
Fucking vegetable-eating dog.
Maybe he just likes eating local.
Well, whatever, I have spent enough time here. I need to go out and let the chickens out. The new chickens are doing quite well with the exception of Suzie who somehow managed to get grabbed IN THE COOP by something that ripped her head off.
I am not kidding you.
Fortunately, I was out of town when this occurred.
But the other five are hanging with the original family, sort of, although there is still some segregation going on.
All right. What's one more picture?
They have not blended into one flock, exactly, but the flocks co-mingle. I am interested to see what happens as the new ones mature. As I have asked before, will there be fucking and/or fighting?
Who knows? Only time will tell.
Stay posted right here where we may not always be local as a community but where it is, in a way, a way of life. And where the devil does sometimes appear and if we are in the proper mood, we invite him in because he is a very charismatic and charming fellow and he knows all the dance steps.
But then we send him off and he goes, grumbling but full of fish and potatoes, tomatoes and eggs, his head spinning with the music, his feet finding their way home.
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loved that your dog prefers local tomatoes....ReplyDelete
I personally am more loco than local. I like the bit about the devil knowing all the dance steps.ReplyDelete
Sometimes "local" is exhausting.ReplyDelete
And I'm sorry to hear about Suzie's head being ripped off. They do say that most criminals are local.
Darn Buster, though the before and after photos made me laugh.ReplyDelete
You always entertain!
Thanks for the effort. I know what an effort it can be to make yourself take the pics, get them on the computer, tell the story.
Sorry about the chicken :(
Glad you wern't home either.
The best local thing in RI is the sweet and sugar corn. Oh my, nothing like it. Had some at my grandmother's 90th birthday party Sunday.
Off to pick beans.
Oh, those sunflowers! Beautiful, made me grin!
I loved the last lines about the devil too.ReplyDelete
you're both and you know it.ReplyDelete
word verification: locusn i.e. cussing in a crazy, community-supported way.
Well as far as I'm concerned, you're local. Right here at my desk (which was made locally.)ReplyDelete
P.S. Buster might be the devil (local version.) Ask him about Rosie. I'm just sayin'.
P.P.S. Beautiful photos. I like the light in the oven, too. Makes me wonder if I could get a decent photo of myself if I kinda leaned in there.
I have all my local stuff shipped in from Asheville.ReplyDelete
Oh dear god. I can't believe the dog ate all the tomatoes! I do not want to see the aftermath photos of that binge, thank you. Keep him outside!ReplyDelete
Sorry about the Chicken Incident :(
As to the local - I suppose we have to have the Earnest in the face of all the cynical, uninformed, self serving not-giving-a-fuck - and hope it will grow into something less self conscious in time.
Denise, keep your head out of the oven!ReplyDelete
Mary, dear.......your way with words, your writing style and your way of seeing and capturing things in phrases and photos is phenomenal. You are like a master chef who serves up banquets out of the simplest ingredients.ReplyDelete
Applause! In fact....standing ovation.
I too would love to be a part of a community that takes pride in its local foods, wares and art! Sigh... maybe someday...ReplyDelete
Local dog fur hat.ReplyDelete
Exactly what our dogs would have swiped had they come across them. I swear they know what a carrot or potato sounds like....ReplyDelete
I like local stuff too--seafood, vegetables, bookstores, groceries. There is a lot of local meat, but we don't eat much of that.ReplyDelete
I would not want to be there to find the head ripped off a hen. Poor Suzie.
Mrs. A- He doesn't care at all. He just wants vegetables.ReplyDelete
Stephanie- You know the devil dances divinely. Damn him.
Elizabeth- Yes. I believe this was a local criminal. You are right!
Bethany- The sunflowers sure are making me happy. So are the gourds.
Adrienne- Yep. I can cuss local.
Denise- I think the light would be flattering. The trick is to not stay there too long.
Magnum- Hell's bells. That would be awesome!
Jo-Exactly! on the local.
Lo- What can I say? I love you.
Dianne- It's pretty darn amazing.
DTG- Best? Local beer. I miss it. And of course the bacon. Buster would make a very fine hat. Mmmmm....
Joanne- Mine too. They show up when you peel a banana!
Syd- I know. Poor hen. Or rooster. Luckily I had not had time to bond although she was a pretty thing. Or he. Whatever.ReplyDelete
Local, local, local! Makes you feel like the whole town at least supports each other. Better than reading imported everywhere.ReplyDelete
Tim brought home two baby chicks and I always feel for the new ones when they are old enough to join in the coop. We named then Ethel and Lucy.
I am just now getting my tomatoes. Three so far. Of course you did start ahead of me and you have warmer weather. Oh...and they are from Ms. Mary Moon's garden who has an amazing green thumb!
Buster eating the tomatoes makes me think of a story one of our adopters told us about giving the dogs grape tomatoes as treats. The dogs have their potty area in the yard, and every year at least 1 tomato plant has grown in the dog yard. They let the dogs eat the fruit of their labors though.ReplyDelete
Sorry about Suzie...we didn't even get a chance to know her.
So sorry to hear about poor Suzie. What a terrible way to go. My Twink died in her sleep last night. More peaceful but a huge shock this morning, nevertheless :( xReplyDelete
Ellen- I agree. Asheville is really trying to make the right thing work. I love them for that.ReplyDelete
Congratulations on Ethyl and Lucy!
Mel's Way- We should get a bumper crop of cherry tomatoes next spring in the backyard. Ha!
Sandy- I know! It's so brutal. Well, that's nature.
Do you know the show Portlandia? There's a seriously funny sketch where they drill a waitress for facts on how local the chicken is, and she brings out a head shot and genealogical history of the chicken they will be eating. Love that show. LOVE Asheville, in all its locavorian splendor. Knoxville is edging that way, too. There's a downtown grocery that puts a little sign in front of every carton of milk and bushel of berries, stating how many miles it traveled to get there. My friend says it's so they know how deeply to judge you. Purchase 20 mile-away bacon?! Fail! Buy less than one mile away eggs? Win!ReplyDelete
Hank said the perfect thing, as usual. I had to smile.ReplyDelete
Poor Suzie. That's one sucky death, man.
Local is too damn expensive for my poor ass. A bitch can't afford to be green.
I live in a place that embraces the local economy, and I try to do the same, as much as I can.ReplyDelete