The Amish move

April 25th, 2012 by Ellen Rocco

Last week, my husband and I helped our friends and neighbors, Abe and Lizzie and their eight children, move from our road where they had been

Photo: Karen Johnson-Weiner

renting a farm to a farm they have just purchased about 10 miles away. It took a day and half to move everything. It was a joy to be a part of the process.

A crew of about ten Amish men were stationed at the old place, loading trucks, trailers and wagons, and another crew of about 10 were at the new farm, unloading and sorting boxes for kitchen, bedrooms, barn and shop. At each location a team of women organized boxes, oversaw the handling of furniture and other cherished items, and the multiple meals and snacks provided for the crew. (Okay, foodies, these meals included: homemade breads, cakes, cookies and puddings, homemade bologna, cheese, salads of several varieties, and lots of hot, weak coffee.)

Bill and I, along with another couple, were the only "English" involved and we

Bill and the red truck handled furniture, beds, shop tools, and lumber.

were all drivers, ferrying belongings from the old farm to the new one.

At both farms, swarms of kids helped move boxes and tools, ran around from porch to shop to yard, and treated the occasion as a community festival.

Years ago, when Amish families started to move into the DeKalb-Depeyster area from (mostly) Ohio and Ontario, I assumed these new neighbors were deeply traumatized by having to find new farms hundreds of miles away from their traditional communities. While moving may separate family segments, I have since learned that 1) Amish people often travel to visit family members who live far away; and, 2) the average Amish family will move several times.

But I'm no expert on the Amish life. So, I asked Karen Johnson-Weiner, the

Photo: Karen Johnson-Weiner

author of books and scholarly papers on the subject, to help me out on this topic of the Amish and moving. (Abe and Lizzie, we know, have moved several times and they are now in their mid-30s.) Here's what Karen had to tell me about moving:

"An Amish person can expect to move at least three times.  The first move will come at marriage, when the young couple leaves their childhood homes to begin a life together.  Their first home is often a “skid house,” the Amish equivalent of a mobile home.  This is a temporary residence, often located on a farm where the young man is working.  The couple stays in this temporary dwelling or in a rented home until they can save enough money to buy a farm.  For the Amish, especially for those in more conservative groups, farming is the ideal lifestyle, for it allows family members to work together.  The couple will stay on the farm, raise a family, and then, when most of the children have married and the parents are ready to retire, they build a “dawdy haus” or “grandparents home” next to the main farm house and sell the farm to one of the children—often a younger child who is still renting elsewhere.  The parents have an auction to sell farm and household items they no longer need now that they are not actively farming, and the proceeds support them in their retirement.

This pattern means that a farm will often remain in the same family for many generations.

The pattern breaks if the family decides to join others in establishing a new

Photo: Karen Johnson-Weiner

settlement.  This may happen if the community feels there’s no longer enough available farmland, but there are other reasons for moving.  For example, the Amish have come to New York State to escape political conflict or difficulties with the local, non-Amish community; to reinforce, maintain, or change their respective church disciplines; to maintain standards for the young folk; to escape turmoil within the church-community; or to avoid the temptations of modernization.

When an Amish community moves a long distance, items will be loaded on semi trucks and taken to the new home.  Swartzentruber (and other conservative Amish) families follow by bus.  If the move is local, items are hauled by horse-drawn wagons or in trucks driven by English (non-Amish neighbors).  In either case, friends and extended family members help the family pack, move, unpack and resettle."

There was a time, of course, when people in rural areas  might expect to live and die in the same home or on the same farm, perhaps moving just once when they married. How does your "moving" life compare with the old days, or with the Amish average of three moves? How many times have you moved? While I've lived at my current farm for decades (except for one year-long temporary move), I managed to move ten times before I settled in the north country. Count them up. It's surprising how mobile we all are.

Campaign finances in your home town, state and country

April 23rd, 2012 by Ellen Rocco

Here's a link to a website that gives you the kind of detail shown in the sample below (for my district) on campaign financing for local and state races.

The intersection of money and politics.

Here's another link for details on campaign financing for national races. Just type in your address or legislative district(s), and you can see what the money looks like in your district.

Here's a link to a liberal research site–the results of their survey on campaign financing, regardless of their perspective, provides a good starting point for a discussion about YOUR opinions on whether there should be campaign financing limitations, the role of lobbyists and PACs,  the "corporations-are-people" ruling, and other results about how we fund our political races. Weigh in below.

MyDistrict Legislative Candidates

District Candidates: 4 Total Amount: $2,188,534

Results: 1-4 of 4
TABLE 1: District Candidates
Candidate Party District Election Status Incumbency Status Total
AUBERTINE, DARREL J DEMOCRAT SENATE DISTRICT 048 Lost – General Election Incumbent $1,109,829
RITCHIE, PATRICIA A REPUBLICAN SENATE DISTRICT 048 Won Challenger $780,807
MCGRATH, BRIAN S DEMOCRAT ASSEMBLY DISTRICT 122 Lost – General Election Open Seat $209,829
BLANKENBUSH, KENNETH D REPUBLICAN ASSEMBLY DISTRICT 122 Won Open Seat $88,069

FIGURE CP1: District Party Control Legislative District Party Control GraphFIGURE CP2: Sector Breakdown for Legislative Candidates (current) Legislative District Sector Graph

Grammar cops

April 23rd, 2012 by Jonathan Brown

Maybe you heard, word nerds are rebelling against the Associated Press. The AP recently released its latest Stylebook and – among other changes – declared the word "hopefully" an adjective.

I know! Time for pitchforks and torches, right? Writing on Salon's website, Mary Elizabeth Williams explains this latest outrage:

Perhaps you are the sort of person who wasn’t aware that saying things like, “Hopefully, it won’t rain this weekend” has long been considered a grammatical faux pas. One hopes that you received a deeper language-arts education than that. “Hopefully” is an adverb. An adverb, I tells ya, one that means to do something in a hopeful manner.

[groan] We all know people like this. We may, in fact, be people like this. At least Williams acknowledges why the AP made this change:

For decades, however, the word has also been a common shorthand for “I hope.”

And there's the rub: because there are more than half a billion people using English every day, the language and its rules change. Like a river flowing over stones, common usage tends to smooth out the rough parts.

If you're careful to use the correct version of "who" and "whom," great, but you've probably noticed you're in an ever-shrinking minority. And there are plenty of people who will point out that you – even with all your grammatical knowledge and discipline – don't write or speak like English users did 100 years ago.

Beneath this urge to police the way we use our language, the most obdurate grammarians ride an undercurrent of something like elitism (if not the real thing). Holier-than-thou criticism abounds among these folk as they size up misusers of English. To me, a grammatical error is like using the wrong utensil at a formal affair. I don't care which type of fork launches the mashed potatoes so long as they end up on the face of my target. (Yes, you could say this sentence contains a grammatical error if you also say "they" refers to "fork." I say "they" refers to "mashed potatoes." If you'd like to hash this out, invite me to your next formal affair.)

For her part, Williams says it's not snobbery that's causing her to dig in her heels over "hopefully"-as-adjective, it's grief over our collective disinterest in the rules and our resulting failure to communicate properly:

Language keeps evolving, and that’s fine and natural. Yet as it does, I’ll still gaze hopefully toward a world in which we battle over our words and our rules because we know them so well, and love them so much.

OK. Fight the good fight and all that. But our time and energies can be put to better use. The online writing collective "The Tangential" asks these questions of would-be grammar cops:

1. Can this misuse be an example of the natural way that language changes over time?

2. Can this misuse actually be a placeholder for something that grammar holds imperfect answers for?

3. Is the misuse a result of the word being appropriated and changed by a counter-culture?

Good questions. You can find more info and The Tangential's answers here.

And since you read this far, you'll be happy to know Grant Barrett is coming to NCPR!

He's co-host of "A Way With Words" – the show about the way we talk and write airs every Monday afternoon at 1:00.

This Thursday (April 26), Barrett will host a special, hour-long, call-in show about words and how we use them. Have you ever wondered if "Jeezum Crow" is a unique North Country-ism? How about that regional habit of dropping the "t" at the end of "what" or "but?" And why do people in our neck of the woods say "el'uh-man-TARRY" instead of "el'uh-MEN-tree" when talking about schools?

What words and sayings rattle around in your head? And who put them there? Family? Friends?

Call in with your questions and get some answers. The show starts Thursday morning at 11:00.

Find your local signal here or listen online at www.ncpr.org.

this misuse be an example of the natural way that language changes over time?

Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?

April 22nd, 2012 by Ellen Rocco

This week, three call-in programs coming your way. All very different, all–of course–incredibly interesting.

Novelist, essayist, editor Mark Slouka.

On Tuesday, April 24 at 7 pm, we welcome Mark Slouka to Readers & Writers, with guest co-hosts Jill Talbot and Paul Graham, both St. Lawrence University English professors. Mark is part of this year's SLU Writers Series and will give a public reading and talk in Sykes Commons on Thursday, April 26 at 8 pm. We hope you'll join us Tuesday evening for our conversation with this remarkable writer, whose work has been translated into 18 languages.

On Wednesday, April 25 at 11 am, Martha Foley and Amy Ivy of Clinton-Essex Cornell Cooperative Extension (who you hear talking about gardening with Martha every Monday morning) will join forces for a gardening call in. Amy is very well-informed about the joys and

Pokeweed: friendly edible and ornamental, or dreadful weed?

challenges of gardening in our climate. This is a great opportunity to ask your thorniest questions, seek advice, and share your successes. You can email your questions in advance of the program to martha@ncpr.org.

If you're still listening–and want to pitch your two cents into the conversation, join us Thursday, April 26 at 11 am for a special north country call in with…

American lexicographer and radio program host Grant Barrett.

Grant Barrett, co-host of the popular A Way With Words, which airs Mondays at 1 pm on NCPR. Grant is here for the SUNY Potsdam Festival of the Arts , and will spend an hour with us, taking your word, slang, jargon, and usage questions and comments. If you'd like to send me your questions for Grant prior to the broadcast, email ellen@ncpr.org or post them to the NCPR Facebook page.

Hello? You're on the air.

Milk: the raw wars

April 20th, 2012 by Ellen Rocco

I have friends who travel miles to purchase raw milk. I know farmers who won't touch the milk they produce in their own barns, preferring to purchase their dairy beverages from the local supermarket–pasteurized, homogenized, stable-ized for long shelf-life. For many, this is a big deal: raw milk vs. processed milk. A really big deal. It's even made it to the NPR Ombudsman's column.

I'm not much of a milk drinker, but I owned a family Jersey for many years, making butter, buttermilk, fresh cheeses and yogurt in an effort to use all that milk. Friends would pick up a jug of milk from time to time, all gushing about the joys of raw milk. (Again, I'm not a milk drinker, so raw milk appealed to me only as the starting point for other dairy products.) My old neighbors all made "cottage cheese" from their cows' milk (set a dish of milk over the heat register overnight…voila! cottage cheese); or, they'd pour some cream in a jar and shake the daylights out of it until it turned into butter, pouring off the sweet buttermilk as a favorite drink.

Okay, the gate is open: what do you think about the raw milk wars?

Listening Post: Spring minus

April 19th, 2012 by Dale Hobson

The butterflies and dandelions, rhododendron and apple blossoms, etc., convince me that spring is really here. Usually I greet this realization with a burst of optimistic enthusiasm. But this year–meh–it's OK, I guess. It's not that I'm depressed (or no more than usual)–it's just that something is not quite right. I believe we left out an essential ingredient of spring–winter.

It pains me to admit to such a Puritan outlook, but my enjoyment of the season is plagued by the notion that a great spring can only be deserved by undergoing the purifying suffering of a North Country winter–endless, brutal, mind-numbing winter. Without this evidence of stoic virtue, the blessings of warmth and light don't feel quite right, like getting credit for something your brother did.

I suppose I'll get over it, and get with the program after a while. As it says in the Book of Matthew, "He makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust." Who am I to argue with good fortune, or good weather? But I can't help thinking we'll probably all pay for it next winter. What a sweet spring that one will be.

Spring myopic

April 16th, 2012 by Ellen Rocco

From a morning walk in my tiny corner of the north country, signs of the new season–spring–just before Barb talked about summer-like temperatures.

Eastern red eft (immature stage of the newt).

There were lots of sounds, too–including snipe calls, which makes me think of the late John Green, a SLU biology professor who frequently brought students out my way to catch the swooping sound of snipe and the howling coyote at  dusk.

The apple trees haven't started to flower, yet, but so many other shrubs--dogwood, shadberry, things-I've-never-figured-out-the-name-of...getting their spring look on.

Lichen and moss looking (and feeling) springy.

I expect to see Dutchmen's Breeches (which in my neighborhood are called "Britches") at this time of year,

Dutchmen's Britches, often grow on rocky, shaded hillsides.

but I was really surprised to see the trilliums budding out…I'd say that's about two to three weeks ahead of normal flowering, which I associate with Mother's Day.

Budding and about-to-flower trilliums...way earlier than usual.

Back at the farm, the sheep are definitively in spring mode, after their visit to the barber a week ago.

But all they're thinking about right now, as they head out onto the winter pasture, is green grass–which the hens have already found in the spring pasture. Yes, the sheep will be on new grass very soon.

The garden is waking up, too. My hands are looking mighty country (really, this is one of the things that separates urban from rural in the spring–the condition of one's fingernails).

Garlic coming up (left edge), rhubarb leafing out, horseradish and chives just behind the rhubarb, and in the meadow, the willow showing early spring green.

So, it's spring. For real. Need more proof? How about a dog in water…

Leda in the ditch.

Your turn. As the new season takes hold, what's happening where you are?

The movers and shakers

April 14th, 2012 by Ellen Rocco

If you want to know what makes a community tick, find the women who are active in clubs, village improvement efforts, and cultural activities. That will take you to the heart of the town about as fast as anything.

Ellen standing behind some of the women at the Gouverneur Area Women's Clubs joint luncheon.

I had the privilege of being asked to speak to the joint luncheon for the Gouverneur Garden Club, Shakespeare Club, Arts Club, Le Beaux Arts Club, and Retired Teachers Club. I AM NOT KIDDING. As Marilyn Scozzafava, the President of the Garden Club, told me: if you go to one club, you'll see members from at least a couple of the other clubs, these women are the doers in town.

Faye Lockwood, Arts Club leader, Ellen Rocco, Marilyn Scozzafava, Garden Club leader.

Okay, confession: I was second choice as speaker. Former Assemblywoman Dede Scozzavava (Marilyn's daughter) was the first choice, but Dede wasn't back yet from vacation. Eat your heart out, Dede. I laughed and laughed, met some great gals, and felt more connected to Gouverneur than I have in all the years I've lived about 10 miles outside of town.

What are the core groups in your town? Tell me. I'm really interested. And, if we can work it out, I'd love to come meet and talk with your group.

Google images goes to the museum.

April 14th, 2012 by Sarah Harris

"Sunday on La Grande Jatte," Georges Seurat

Google–information of purveyor of all types–has expanded into art. The Google Art Project is a database of over 32,000 high-quality images of art work from around the world. The New York Times calls it

"a broad, deep river of shared information, something like a lavishly illustrated art book fused with high-end open storage."

And it is. It's easy to spend a few minutes–or an hour, or longer, I can attest–feasting your eyes on paintings by Dutch masters or early Australian cave drawings. It seems, at first glance, like a wonderous and unending collection of all kinds of art for everyone to look at.

But the project still has has pretty big flaws. As the NYT points out, a number of important museums including the Louvre and the Prado haven't signed on. The artists with work in the collection are alphabetized by first anne. The project certainly begs copyright issues, and there are whole schools of art and thought totally left out–notably 20th century Modernism. There's not a single Picasso featured in the entire collection.

I'm really intrigued by The Google Art Project. I think has the potential to change how a lot of people access art (gone, it seems, are the days of the slide projector we used in high school art history class). But I'm hesitant to champion it just yet, because I can understand why a museum might hesitate to allow the treasures in their collection to become part of a Google endavor–Google is perhaps the greatest curator of all.

What do you think? Is this an egalitarian project bringing art to everyone with an internet connection? Or will Google wield undue influence on the art we, culturally, might want to consume?

Listening Post: A bunch of mugs

April 12th, 2012 by Dale Hobson

The NCPR mug museum

We've been adding a few historical items to our new Facebook timeline, so my eye was drawn to an item I walk past many times a day without noticing. In Membership Director June Peoples' office is a kind of mug museum, featuring the (if not iconic, at least logo-bearing) mugs  that NCPR has had made over the years. Three decades and three different generations of station logo are represented.

As with all good museum displays, the interesting part is what it says about the culture over the course of time. The older mugs up top are all from a simpler era, of modest size and four-square, except for the "Road Warrior" model, made so bottom-heavy you could wear it for a hat and still not spill a drop. Our post 9-11 era latte mug is the size of a sap bucket and is midnight black, suited to grim times and round-the-clock news consumption. As the "oughts" wore on, we turned hyperlocal, featuring artists of the region, then locavore, with a terra cotta flower pot mug that could hold a planting season's supply of "mud."

Next came the bistro phase, elegant rising shapes designed to hold, one supposes, the favorite locally-roasted, fairly-traded organic blends. Then a retro move back to manly no-nonsense styles, followed by an arty outlier, a trompe l'oeil paper-cup travel mug, rendered in insulated stoneware with a silicone top. And finally we come to this year's offering–a favorite of mine–a plain old-fashioned china diner mug, thick walled  for leisurely consumption, and so sturdy you could drop it off the roof. It's a practical pick for a down economy, but sporting an optimistic fireball red glaze.

I may be reading too much into this, but then I do most of my reading with a half-full mug somewhere nearby. Whatever your style of cup or coffee (you can even drink tea if you must)–I hope you take it with a little radio on the side.