“ the theory or
science of the method and grounds of knowledge,
especially with a reference to its limits and validity.”
In other words, how you know what you know.
A couple of nights ago, I viewed a documentary on climate change, the geological
speculations of Michael J. Oard . Historical climate change. Warm seas. Wet
warm valleys. Cold, glaciated mountains. Millions of dead woolley mammoths,
buried beside hippopotamii. Washington State’s Missoula Lake flood. Interesting
ice age theories. Interesting stuff. Controversial stuff. How does he know what
he says he knows?
Michael J. Oard,
has a B.S. and M.S. degree in atmospheric science from the University of
Washington. He was a research meteorologist for 6 years at the University of
Washington. In 2001, he retired as a lead forecaster with the National Weather
Service in Great Falls, Montana.
As for myself, I grew up in Alberta, Canada. Cold, dry
air winters were the norm. Maximum three feet of snow on the ground. Extreme
temperature swings of 80 degrees were common, when arctic air was pushed aside
by dry chinook winds from the west coast. Sidewalks with a ground temperature
of -30 F built up a half inch of frost when air temps moved to +50F in a matter
of two hours. Could this be called climate change? Three feet of snow was
reduced to a half a foot in one day, and rivers of water flowed down sloping
streets.
Then, the bitter cold came back with a vengeance, leaving
streets and sidewalks a dangerous aggregation of frozen slush and lakes in
various non-navigable patterns. The ground frost remained all winter to a depth
of at least four feet. No one dug new foundations until the middle of May. Climate
change! Yeah! Of sorts.
Our family moved to the West Coast 23 years ago. I love
the mild winters where I can “play” in the dirt all year around. Granted, the gray,
watery days keep things in perspective, but I love the ground here.
Uncommon ground. A very wise man once wrote, “Prepare thy
work without, and make it fit for thyself in the field; and afterwards build
thine house”.
What creates commerce? Markets? Need! Some would say,
desire.
We live in an age of specialization. The great majority
of people do not produce their own food. They have largely forsaken the field,
the ground. Silly city people hug trees and finger shells and pretend food
independence. For them, growing food is uncommon, something to preach about and
regulate for others, but not to do.
Soil is relatively heavy to a man. Opening the soil for
seed, whacking weeds, training vines, turning in amendments and fertilizers,
digging out the precious fruits—this takes strong arms and backs.
Fossil fuels (and electrical power conversions) have made
possible this detachment from the soil. In Washington State, significant water
power has been harnessed as well. Wind and solar power is a dream that moves
closer, but (grind your teeth if you wish), it is oil that puts food on our
plates.
Uncommon ground. In 1994 we purchased five acres as a
family playground and homestead. In 1999 we purchased four milking sheep. Our
family has grown to nine, that is seven children. This is uncommon ground. I
get asked if I am a Mormon or a Catholic. I am neither. We see children as a
gift, the seed of the next generation, a legacy of hope, not something to be
flushed down the toilet the morning after, like many other “Christians” of our
day.
Uncommon ground. Sheep take work. Children helping is a
win-win situation. We had to weather several learning curves at once.
Fieldwork. Animal husbandry. Farm shelters. Milking skills. Cheese and yogurt
making. Ice cream making was not so hard! We did this on the cheap. No bank
loans. Seasons of waiting for cash to build up. Seasons of trying to orient to
government health rules based on large, quick capital infusions. We wanted our
children to see how businesses used to be started when grants and loans were
not the norm. We have enjoyed not feeling the bite of the bank.
Uncommon ground. We took the time to relate our heritage
to our “farm”. Have you ever read what the Bible says about farming? About
sheep? About milk? The Bible is a big thing in our larger family circle. Maybe
not yours. Probably not, especially if you are one of the privileged,
“educated” class who eats what other people grow. (I do have a college degree).
We love to contribute in our local church fellowship. We share our soil’s
produce and our Bible insights there.
Uncommon ground. You may notice that I will post to
Whatcom Works less frequently in days ahead. I am working on another website
which will be called UnCommon Ground. Whatcom Works is supposed to be a local
“Drudge” page for news and conservative commentary. Digging up and writing
stories and aggregating news has to take a back seat to earning a living. I do
not have EPA grants to allow me to watch other people all day as they grow my
food.
But, it is the uncommon ground that holds the potential
for the future. Political process and public policy spring out of the community
of people in their given locale. Neighbors actually have a lot of uncommon
ground. How can we come together? A lot of acceptance is needed. Patience.
Negotiating. When uncommon worldviews mix without trust or giving, there are
wars.
Uncommon ground. He who sits above the circle of the
earth walked uncommon ground with men 2000 years ago. Christmas has roots. So
does Easter, or Pasqua, or Passover. If you don’t like religion, don’t read our
work at Uncommon Ground. But then, don’t brag about being a tolerant liberal.
Thanks for your time. Have a good Whatcom work day!
--- JK
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