* * *
STEVEN L. HOPP
Or maybe she was starting to sense what I hated to admit: that these eggs were dead. A hundred things can go wrong with the first breeding attempt of an animal that was not even selected, to begin with, for its reproductive wits. Infertility is common in first-year males, compounded by the incompetent mating attempts of creatures reared by humans. Bacteria in the nest can stealthily destroy the embryos. Improper incubation is also fatal. Had the mother left the nest, on one of the freezing nights we were still having in late April? She seemed dedicated, but lacked experience. She might, just once, have flown up to the roost to get warm among her child-free peers. One hour of that kind of exposure could kill the developing chicks.
Increasingly glum, I had no good news to report on Thursday morning when I came back to the house from my crack-of-dawn nest check. And now we had to leave the farm. I was due that evening in North Carolina for an event that had been scheduled for a year. Steven and Lily were going along too, since we planned a quick visit with Camille at college. At noon, in my earrings and dress shoes, I was still dithering in the poultry house, postponing our drive till the last minute on the grounds that a hatch would probably happen in the warmest part of the day. In truth, I couldn't bear to leave my expectant mother, though I knew the feeling was not at all mutual. Steven assured me that she could manage without me. Kindly, he did not say, "Honey, it's a turkey." I sighed, threw my overnight bag into the car, and off we went.
The event went without a hitch. I delivered my lecture from the pulpit of a magnificent gothic chapel and did not even once mention poultry. The book signing afterward went on until midnight, but still I was up before dawn the next day, pacing in our hotel room. As soon as the hour seemed forgivable I roused Steven and insisted on an early return to the farm.
The drive back was endless. I felt like a dope for my impatience, aware that if current trends held, I was rushing us all back to a surly turkey hen sitting on a mound of dead eggs. Even so, as we approached our interstate exit and Steven suggested going on into town to run some errands, I snapped a panicky "No!" Looking straight ahead, I adjusted my tone. "Can we go straight back to the farm, please?"
Before we even pulled up to the house I was out of the truck, making a beeline for the poultry barn. When I stepped inside I thought I heard a new sound--a peeping sound. It was probably the sparrows that always hung around the barn looking for spilled grain. "Don't be disappointed," I counseled myself, and then repeated the warning aloud because Lily was right behind me. I opened the door to the turkey coop and we slipped inside, approaching the nest-corner slowly, letting our eyes adjust to the dimness inside the slatted turkey room. Number One Mom still sat on her nest. She looked different, though, with her wings held out oddly from her body. We stood still and watched.
There, under her wing, was it something? Lily squeezed my hand and uttered a high-pitched squeak like a baby mouse. It was something. A tiny dark eye, as small as a hatpin head, peeked out at us. A fluffy head emerged. Two heads!
One of them wiggled out from under Mama, and it was the real thing: a ball of fluff just like a marshmallow peep, honey blond with a dark spot on top of its head. We could see the white egg-tooth still on the end of its beak. This chick was still damp from the egg, its fluff a bit spiky and its walk adorably uncoordinated. Lily looked at me with huge eyes and whispered: "We have babies."
"She has babies," I said. This time they would be raised right, by a turkey mother, ending once and for all in our barnyard the indignity of unnatural intervention. But my heart was on Lily's side: we had babies. This was about the youngest creature we had ever seen, tottering on wobbly legs, falling over its feet.
It was hard to resist the temptation to scoop it up in our hands, but we didn't. We were dying to know how many more she had, how old, whether the hatch was finished. But when we approached she lowered her head and hissed at us, snakelike, rumpling her auburn feathers to make herself twice her normal size. Then she looked away. Number One Mother had bigger things on her mind now, and the instincts to do them perfectly.
She had been so faithful to her nest, she had to be hungry and thirsty. Bribery might be just the ticket. Lily ran outside to gather a handful of grass while I approached with a cup of water, holding it close enough for her to get a long drink. She accepted detente and settled down. When Lily came back with the grass, she gobbled it.
While she was distracted by the food, I reached underneath her breast feathers. I could feel a considerable number of eggs under there, smooth to my fingertips. Their heat was almost shocking. One of them felt less smooth. I touched its surface carefully and decided it was slightly cracked. As slowly as I could manage, I drew it out from under her and took a close look. Near the pointed end, a spiderweb of cracks had begun.
The egg began to tremble and thump in my palm, a sensation so animate and peculiar. I put it to my ear and heard a sturdy, high-pitched peeping. I held it to Lily's ear, and watched her eyes grow wide. This egg was alive, though it looked for all the world like an ordinary breakfast food. The effect was wildly unsettling. My heart raced as I tucked the warm egg back under Mama.
We'd gone the whole circle, raising our mail-order hatchlings into the most senior demographic of American turkeys. Now, just after her first birthday, one of the nation's eldest had begat its newest. Only a few times in my life have I actually seen lives begin, and never had I held in my palm that miracle caught in the act.
The chick that had come out now dived back into the feather security blanket, disappearing completely under Mom. But we kept staring. We couldn't help it. She glared back--I suppose she couldn't help that either. After another minute, a whole crowd of little black eyes appeared under their mother's wing--two, four, six, eight, ten.
It's hard to explain how irrationally proud I felt of this success. Their success, a mother's and, in his clumsy way, a father's too, but most of all these creatures who had pecked themselves heroically into the bright wide world to give this life a go.
Lily and I backed away and slipped out of the turkey coop into the grain room. I thought of that day when I'd tried to explain to Lily the beginning of everything. However I might have bungled it, I hadn't undone for her the Beautiful Mystery. That part tells itself. Crazed and giddy, there in the dusty barn, we held hands and danced: Babies! That was all, and that was enough. A nest full of little ding-dongs, and time begins once more.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Every list of gratitudes should begin with the hands that feed us: Anthony and Laurel Flaccavento, Tom and Deni Peterson, Charlie Foster and family, Mike Hubbard, Paul Rizzo, Kirsty Zahnke, Kate Richardson, the Kling family, Will and Charlie Clark, David King, and everyone else at the Abingdon market. People always say, "I couldn't have survived without you," but in our case that's literally true.
Many mentors helped shape this project: Wendell and Tanya Berry were there all along; everything we've said here, Wendell said first, in a quiet voice that makes the mountains tremble. Joan Gussow also did it all ahead of us, and is the kind of friend who'll help with anything, whether it's scholarship or pulling weeds. Gary Nabhan, fellow chile-roaster from the early days, still keeps us smiling from a distance. Wendy Peskin and the Peruvian staff of Heifer International opened extraordinary doors to help us understand sustainable development. Marikler Giron truly saved us. Our debts to other colleagues and writers are as numerous as the books in our library: especially Vandana Shiva, Michael Pollan, Wes Jackson, and Brian Halweil. And the kitchen bookshelf: Alice Waters, Deborah Madison, Mary Beth Lind, and Cathleen Hockman-Wert.
Friendship with a writer--or in this case, a whole family of them--means you may sometimes fall into the pages when you're weren't looking. We're grateful to all those who opened their lives this way: most courageously, David and Elsie Kline, and the Worth-Jones family. Also Ricki Carroll, Tod Murphy, Pam Van Deursen, Anne Waddell and our postal pals, Amy Klippenstein, Paul Lacinski, Wendell and Ginny Kingsolver, J
oann Hopp, and the Hopp-Ostiguys. Neta and Joe Findley are not just neighbors but family, and tell the best stories. Bill, Sanford, and Elizabeth are forever with us. Kate Forbes has earned a lifetime pass as our official extra farm kid, along with Abby Worth-Jones, who provided the title for chapter 14. Abby, Eli, Becky, and Roscoe Worth-Jones, Laura and Jerry Grantham, and the Malusa-Norman and Malusa-Froelich families get medals of valor for not running away on harvest day. Kay Hughes didn't run from a hungry crowd. Nancy and Paul Blaney, Sandy Skidmore, Jim Warden, Tandy and Lee Rasnake, Dayle Zanzinger, Fred Hebard, Rob Kingsolver, Ann Kingsolver, and so many others have sustained us with bread and kindness, rain or shine. Will White rose to any challenge; Mary Hanrahan pulled the Devil's Own weeds. The Bobs were fearless and undaunted. Jim Watson uncovered Eden from the brambles, and Cade helped. Our hardworking friends at Appalachian Sustainable Development keep reminding us why farmers matter: Anthony Flaccavento, Tom and Deni Peterson, Robin Robbins, Rebecca Brooks, Kathlyn Chupik, and all the staff.
Richard Houser, Virginia's most talented illustrator-painter-musician-chef-historian, saw how to make our book smile, and did it. Judy Carmichael is so much more than an office manager, we're working on a better title: research ace, rooster wrangler, esteemed colleague, best pal, and guardian angel all come to mind. Amy Redfern organized the chaos with panache. Jim Malusa and Sonya Norman left their fingerprints on the manuscript, for the better. Terry Karten is a champion editor and our very good fortune. No words are big enough to carry our devotion to Frances Goldin, so we'll just use little ones: we love you. Ditto for the whole office: Sam Stoloff, Ellen Geiger, Matt McGowan, Phyllis Jenkins, and Josie Schoel.
We all three thank our parents for putting tools in our hands at an early age and turning us loose on the project of making food happen. And we thank Lily for absolutely everything--plus eggs. If you think she's a charming character in this book, you should see her walk out the front door.
--BK, SLH, CHK
REFERENCES
For updates and a complete list of references, see our Web site: www.animalvegetablemiracle.com.
Ableman, Michael: Fields of Plenty. San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 2005.
Berry, Wendell. What Are People For? New York: North Point Press, 1990.
Brooks Vinton, Sherri, and Ann Clark Espuelas. The Real Food Revival. New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher, 2005.
Chadwick, Janet. The Busy Person's Guide to Preserving Food. North Adams, Mass.: Storey Publishing, 1995.
Charles, Daniel. Lords of the Harvest: Biotech, Big Money, and the Future of Food. New York: Perseus Books, 2002.
Cook, Christopher. Diet for a Dead Planet: How the Food Industry Is Killing Us. New York: New Press, 2004.
Fallon, Sally. Nourishing Traditions: The Cookbook That Challenges Politically Correct Nutrition and the Diet Dictocrats. Washington, D.C.: NewTrends, 2000.
Fowler, Cary, and Pat Mooney. Shattering: Food, Politics and the Loss of Genetic Diversity. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1990.
Fox, Michael W. Eating with Conscience: The Bioethics of Food. Troutdale, Oregon: NewSage Press, 1997.
Fromartz, Samuel. Organic, Inc.: Natural Foods and How They Grew. New York: Harcourt, 2006.
Goodall, Jane, Gary McAvoy, and Gail Hudson. Harvest for Hope: A Guide to Mindful Eating. New York: Warner Books, 2005.
Gussow, Joan Dye. This Organic Life: Confessions of a Suburban Homesteader. White River Junction, Vt.: Chelsea Green, 2002.
Guthman, Julie. Agrarian Dreams: The Paradox of Organic Farming in California. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2004.
Hafez, E. S. E. The Behaviour of Domestic Animals. Hagerstown, Md.: Williams and Wilkinson, 1969.
Halweil, Brian. Eat Here: Homegrown Pleasures in a Global Supermarket. New York: W. W. Norton, 2004.
Katz, Sandor Ellix. The Revolution Will Not Be Microwaved. White River Junction, Vt.: Chelsea Green, 2006.
Kimbrell, Andrew. Fatal Harvest: The Tragedy of Industrial Agriculture. Sausalito, Calif.: Foundation for Deep Ecology, 2002.
Kimbrell, Andrew, ed. The Fatal Harvest Reader. Washington, D.C.: Island Press, 2002.
Lambrecht, Bill. Dinner at the New Gene Cafe: How Genetic Engineering Is Changing What We Eat, How We Live, and the Global Politics of Food. New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 2002.
Lind, Mary Beth, and Cathleen Hockman-Wert. Simply in Season. Scott-dale, Pa.: Herald Press, 2005.
Lappe, Frances Moore, and Anna Lappe. Hope's Edge: The Next Diet for a Small Planet. New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher, 2003.
Lyson, Thomas A. Civic Agriculture: Reconnecting Farm, Food, and Community. Medford, Mass.: Tufts University Press, 2004.
Madison, Deborah. Local Flavors. New York: Broadway Books, 2002.
Magdoff, Fred, John Bellamy Foster, and Frederick H. Buttel, eds. Hungry for Profit: The Agribusiness Threat to Farmers, Food, and the Environment. New York: New York University Press, 2000.
Manning, Richard. Against the Grain: How Agriculture Has Hijacked Civilization. New York: North Point Press, 2005.
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Midkiff, Ken. The Meat You Eat: How Corporate Farming Has Endangered America's Food Supply. New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 2005.
Nabhan, Gary Paul. Coming Home to Eat: The Pleasures and Politics of Local Foods. New York: W. W. Norton, 2002.
Nestle, Marion. Food Politics: How the Food Industry Influences Nutrition. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2003.
Norberg-Hodge, Helena, Peter Goering, and John Page. From the Ground Up: Rethinking Industrial Agriculture. London: Zed Books, 2001.
Norberg-Hodge, Helena, Todd Merrifield, and Steven Gorelick. Bringing the Food Economy Home: Local Alternatives to Global Agribusiness. London: Zed Books, 2002.
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Pollan, Michael. The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. New York: Penguin, 2006.
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ORGANIZATIONS
Also see our Web site: www.animalvegetablemiracle.com.
LOCAL FOOD, EATING, AND FOOD SECURITY
Local Harvest
220 21st Ave.,
Santa Cruz CA 95062
www.localharvest.org
FoodRoutes
37 East Durh
am St., Philadelphia PA 19119
National nonprofit dedicated to reintroducing Americans to their food.
www.foodroutes.org
Slow Food International
Via Mendicita Istruita 8, 12042 Bra (CN), Italy www.slowfood.com
20 Jay St., Suite 313, Brooklyn NY 11201
www.slowfoodusa.org
USDA Food and Nutrition Service 3101 Park Center Dr., Alexandria VA 22302
www.fns.usda.gov/fns
The Community Food Security Coalition PO Box 209, Venice CA 90294
Dedicated to building strong, sustainable local and regional food systems.
www.foodsecurity.org
Sustainable Table
215 Lexington Ave., Suite 1001, New York NY 10016
www.sustainabletable.org
The Sierra Club National Sustainable Consumption Committee www.truecostoffood.org
Edible Communities
PMB 441, 25 NW 23rd Pl., Suite 6, Portland OR 97210-5599
www.ediblecommunities.com
The National Farm to School Network 1600 Campus Rd., Mail Stop M1, Los Angeles CA 90041
www.farmtoschool.org
Local Food Works (UK)
40-56 Victoria St., Bristol BS1 6BY, UK
www.localfoodworks.org
SUSTAINABLE AGRICULTURE AND FARMING
The Sustainable Agriculture Research and Education (SARE) Program Waterfront Center, Room 4462, 800 9th St. SW, Washington DC 20024
www.sare.org
National Sustainable Agriculture Information Service PO Box 3657, Fayetteville AR 72702
www.attra.org
The Land Institute
2440 E. Water Well Rd., Salina KS 67401
www.landinstitute.org
The Ecological Farming Association (EFA) 406 Main St., Suite 313, Watsonville CA 95076
Promotes ecologically sound and economically viable agriculture.
www.eco-farm.org
The National Campaign for Sustainable Agriculture PO Box 396, Pine Bush NY 12566
www.sustainableagriculture.net
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life Page 39