Meanwhile

On our way to Kopp’s, home of some of Milwaukee’s best frozen custard, we wondered when the US citizens would be alleviated of some of the confusing conversions between pints and quarts and gallons when ordering their custard. We figured a typical conversation at Kopp’s during the transition to the metric system would go something like this:

Joe Milwaukee (insert accent of choice): I’ll take a half gallon of Cookies ‘n’ Cream.

Clerk: We don’t have half gallons anymore sir, we now have 2 liters.

Joe Milwaukee: Uh, is that like Coke?

Clerk: Yes sir, it’s the same amount as a two liter of coca-cola.

Joe Milwaukee: Well how do you get it out of there?

Do you love, without a doubt, living in the Information age? Or do you wonder of its dangers, like if we have lost connection with our inherent wisdom in favor of having a glorious array of facts and opinions at our fingertips that may or may not be applicable to a given problem?

I think I may have inadvertently stumbled when I rambled:
“I know what things are made of. How be healthy. How to feel free. All this knowledge is out there. What a privilege, to be taught to fish rather than fed!”

But what of this…
“We can certainly access a lot more information, but we don’t necessarily have more wisdom.”

Touche. But if not ourselves, who can we trust to provide the wisdom? To use the popular example of healthcare, in the US drug companies over-diagnose diseases like ADHD while advertising their ‘cures’ directly to consumers. Meanwhile doctors poo-poo self-diagnosis because otherwise what did they spend 4 years in med school, 4 years in residency, and upwards of $300K for anyway?!  The information is not hidden, but agendas sometimes are.  In the age of information, is cynicism the new wisdom?

It has been over 2 months since I last wrote and I’m not sure where to begin so why not start with the little pint of peak-season plump organic raspberries I just bought and have nearly finished off…the taste brings me back to berry-picking on my aunt Jo and uncle Frank’s farm. There are condos there now, but just before they were taxed out and forced off Jo and Frank owned the last 10 acres of nearly-pristine land on the southeastern corner of Milwaukee. On it was an old farm house with a great cellar where they fermented wine and beer in big vats, a barn filled to the brim with auto parts and tools for Frank’s expert mechanic work (and maybe a bit of tinkering), shelters for the animals that came and went, a pond they dug, a huge, lovingly-cared-for garden that fed them year round, and lots and lots of berry bushes. My sister and I would come on a day when the berries were ripe and pick for hours, numb to the heat, thorns, and insect bites while our senses were enraptured with the sweet taste of those prize pickings that never made it to the pail.

15 years later and 175 miles away all of this has been transplanted to southwestern Wisconsin, a well-kept secret of a place with beauty equal to that of Wales. It is part of Wisconsin’s ‘driftless zone,’ land untouched by the ice age glaciers where the natural rolling hills are still intact. Here Jo and Frank’s new homestead emcompasses a whopping 265 acres of unfarmed land, complete with forest-covered highlands, prairie midlands, and marshy lowlands they bought with the settlement from the condo companies. We visited last week over the Fourth of july, and I fell in love once again with the lush green setting and simple lifestyle of rural life. Riding our bikes one evening along the adjacent highway, Jo pointed to the distant, rolling horizon, a black silhouette against the setting sun.

“Those are our three hills” she said.

“Wow, I almost can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I” she replied “I’m not sure I ever will.”

On the list of things I need to do at some point is to read poetry at an open mic at a coffee house. Making progress on that …going to perform in a cabaret show for the next three weekends, in which I get to speak a great poem, and sing for the first time from a stool! It seems a lot more natural and comfy than standing, I like it. A couple others on the long unwritten list are being a mostly-vegan and a triathlete-in-training, so I thought I would get started on those today after leaving work early because I was crawling out of my skin. Tofu is baking in the oven making the house cozy (it’s definitely spring in Wisconsin, we’re on Day 3 of Cold and Rainy) and I just had a delicious salad of mixed greens, crumbled soy cheese, two kinds of nuts, raisins, and vinagrette. Mmmm. Yes, I do believe I could give up eggs, since there are ready substitutes available and the main reason I like them in the first place is because they satisfy so simply. I’ve never cared for their origin, though the image is eased by buying cage-free. Had a great conversation with David the other night, which was continued it with Noel. The gist is this: global warming is a fact. Even if we stopped our energy consumption right now, it would still continue. Therefore, it must be addressed in addition to whatever conservation measures we might be taking. The best way to reverse global warming is to plant trees. Lots and lots and LOTS of trees. What if Wisconsin were turned back into the beautiful forest it once was and in parts still is, and the sprawling dairy farms could gradually shrink down if consumers began to limit their consumption? The high levels of casein in milk make it unfit for humans anyway, says Dr. Norman Walker, my juicing hero who lived to be 110. Thus, the veganism. As for the triathlete part, we’ll see, maybe just in terms of enjoying the three sports of running, swimming, and cycling. And the next? To contribute to the health of the human race as a midwife/medicine woman. Here begins my new career.

I somehow managed to poison myself yesterday and laid in bed nauseous from 8pm to 8am this morning. it was a glorious 12 hours during which I decided that I didn’t in fact want to have children at all ever even though my obsession lately has been studying childbirth, because there would be the possibility of nausea during the first trimester and I would rather go childless for a lifetime than experience that feeling for 3 months. (don’t worry I got over it). Today I got my reward for the fast - that feeling of being light and airy and calm from not eating, for at this point all food still seemed a disgusting thought and I wondered why I ever eat at all and maybe I should be like the skinny hippie vegan I admired at the coffee shop the other day when I was picking up a jasmine green tea…she seemed so simple and calm and free. after a pleasant day of not much consumption except lacroix and soup and some junk that was in the office i returned home from work and cleaned and rearranged in a silent meditative state because my landlord is coming tomorrow and noel is coming home in 2.5 weeks (yay!) i considered reading or writing or doing anything intelligent but instead found myself staring in the mirror contemplating the blackness of my pupil, and somehow in the deep blue planet of my iris i had a not-so-new revelation that the calm I was experiencing was actually my brain beginning to shut down and that I really had everything in common with the skinny hippie vegan girl I had so admired - we were both just FRICKING HUNGRY.