In Gene Logsdon Blog on April 16, 2014 at 8:02 am
From GENE LOGSDON
One bit of news lately has not received much fanfare but probably should. State by state, hemp farming is becoming legal. The latest state, I think, is Ohio, which is a surprise to those who think the Buckeye State leans heavily toward the conservative side which generally takes a dim view of anything that looks like approval of drugs. But one of the first states to legalize industrial hemp was Kentucky, certainly several shades redder than Ohio. Now some ten states have some form of permit for growing the crop. And the Federal Government has removed pyschoactively-inert hemp from the purview of the federal Controlled Substance Act, so university researchers can now grow the stuff experimentally, the first step in legalizing it everywhere. So what is going on here?
Common sense is winning out once more, that’s what. Farm hemp or more officially “industrial hemp,” is a type of cannabis and a relative to marijuana, but does not produce the drug THC in amounts that you can get high on. There’s tons of proof but I sort of know from observation. Many years ago, I watched a group of young men try their smoking best to get high— and failing— on the industrial hemp that was growing wild, as it does many places in the Midwest. A good new book on all aspects of industrial hemp is just out—Hemp Bound by Doug Fine from Chelsea Green Publishing. Not only does farm hemp not cause the results that marijuana can, but it will cross-pollinate with the latter growing nearby and ruin the subsequent plants for drugging purposes.
But human beings, being human beings, always go overboard on everything, and those with a cultural horror of hallucinogenic drugs did not take time to get their facts straight and over the past eighty years or so made no distinction between the two. More…
In Gene Logsdon Blog on April 9, 2014 at 8:10 am
From GENE LOGSDON
The word, home, has the most comforting sound to it for me, probably because I am a confirmed homebody after living an earlier part of my life in seventeen different places in six different states. Even then, I tried to make a home out of every place I lived. As I like to tell, I surreptitiously planted onions and radishes in the landscaping around my college dorm. But as soon as I could manage it, I came back to the scenes of my childhood. That meant that my wife could not go back to her childhood home and I am forever grateful that she went along with my yearning.
Unlike Carol’s home farm which disappeared under a subdivison, mine remains miraculously somewhat the same as it was a hundred years ago. Carol and I returned to this home area forty years ago, and, except for the fences that had disappeared as small fields of yesterday were turned into the bigger fields of today, the lay of the land was about the same and still is. The fields are occupied and farmed by my siblings and we were able to go together and buy the woodlots and some fields around the farm. So I can go to the place east of the barn where I was disking ground at age 16 and see almost the same landscape of field, stream, pasture, and woodland that so pleasured me that long ago June day. I was singing “How Are Things In Glocca Morra” (still about my favorite song) and thought that I was the luckiest person in the world. I have theorized that maybe I was high on exhaust gases from the tractor muffler that stuck up in my face. But whatever, no view of ocean, mountain, plain or canyon in the whole United States has ever filled me with that much joy. Good old home.
I suppose it can be true of urban places too, but when home is a farm and you are there every day as a child More…
In Gene Logsdon Blog on April 2, 2014 at 9:21 am
From GENE LOGSDON
A major issue of the future will be how we resolve the conflict between people who want to protect the lives of every raccoon in Christendom and those who want to kill at least half of them. From the responses to this blog’s posts, I know that many of you are aware of this widening gulf between purely human affairs and the natural world and wonder, as I do, what will come of it. So many people today live in high rises and along crowded, wall to wall streets where about the only contact they have with nature is what they experience from their balconies and decks. A popular cartoon says it all: children walking through beautiful natural scenery but never once looking up from their cell phones.
The majority of Americans today have never butchered a chicken, been sprayed by a skunk, listened to mice bowling hickory nuts across the attic floor, watched squirrels chew holes in house walls, baited a fish hook, seen the friendly neighborhood bowwow attack and tear the guts out of my still-alive ewe, milked a cow, hoed weeds, been butted by a ram, witnessed blacksnakes eating chicks, tried to stop a runaway horse, lived without electricity, found their chicken coop full of dead hens killed by wildlife, pulled a birthing calf, heard a meadowlark sing, observed cute little kitty tear a bluebird apart, etc. Without any experience in husbandry, let along wildlife management, such people develop a different attitude toward nature than those of us who have to deal firsthand with natural adversity. For example, the high rise society tends to believe that animals, or at least certain animals, have rights not unlike humans. They may agree that rat populations need to be controlled but that wild mustangs should be allowed to overrun rangeland no matter how great the expense or environmental damage. More…