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Care-A-Van Brings Picnic to 400 Towers

By Bea McManis

"Blessed is the people that know the joyful sound: they shall walk, O Lord, in the light of thy countenance" (Psalm 89:15).

Tonight, the residents of 400 Towers were treated to the joyful sound of music as they enjoyed a wonderful picnic provided by Care-A-Van Ministries.

The rain did not dampen the entusiasm of the fantastic group of people who made this picnic possible.  Nor did it keep the residents away. 

The residents would like to thank:

Paul Ohlson and his lovely wife Bridgette who organized the picnic.

Pastor Charlie Piscitello, keyboard, along with Judy, Roxie, and Shirley - vocalists.

Shawn and Clint the capable cooks

Rick from San Antonio, Texas and Martha from Clarendon - along with P.J., John, and David who never stopped serving and  interacting with the diners.

and, of course, Robin who spearheaded the idea of having Care-A-Van visit the Towers.

60 appreciative residents enjoyed the meal, consisting of hot dogs, burgers, salt potatoes, baked beans, macaroni salad, beverages; and ice cream cones.  Five meals were served to shut ins.

Once again, thanks to Care-A-Van for a lovely evening. 

 

 

 

Kauffman talks up the virtues of home and immobility down south in Atlanta

By Philip Anselmo

Author Bill Kauffman was recently invited to Emory University in Atlanta by a fledgling student group known as the Young Americans for Liberty. The group had organized an event on the theme of "the importance of traditional American values in the 21st century."

Kauffman, it turned out, fit that bill quite well.

From an article in the Emory Wheel:

“I always felt an intense homesickness no matter where I was,” Kauffman said. “I knew that where I was from mattered.”

Kauffman said that those who are immobile and choose to remain in a specific region are overlooked in modern society.

“Love’s truest, greatest expression as I’ve come to believe is immobility,” he said.

Kauffman gives vent to the rootlessness of American politicians, such as President-elect Barack Obama and Sen. John McCain, and he speaks of the divide between "televised America" and the rest of us. But all is not lost, he says.

Despite the problems that have arisen due to the lack of connection between Americans and their hometowns, Kauffman said he believes the situation can be fixed.

“Our country is lost, adrift, but there are sign posts pointing us home,” he said. “We have to rediscover the places in which we live. It is our task to find the sacred in the everyday.”

There's an especially poignant bell struck here... for me, at least. With little seeming compunction, Kauffman digs trenches—between the nomadic and the sedentary, "the televised" and "the rest of us" (which latter are also equated with the sedentary), and the various subdivisions of the rooted and the rootless—and he takes sides. At least since Cain and Abel, and especially during the Exodus, the nomadic and the sedentary have been set at odds with one another. Be it divine or secular, judgment pronounced on the nomad is often fueled by the prejudice and derision of the sedentary—witness the gypsies of Europe. A person or people are exiled as a means of protecting the homeland, as a preservation of the sanctity of the species, as it were. Yet the nomad is no such simple fiend. The Wandering Jew is both cast out and yet forever among us: at home in his homelessness. Nomadism, itself, is both a curse and the mark of blessedness in the Old Testament.

It's fascinating to hear Kauffman take up this ancient dialectic, which for sure is a prominent theme in his writings, if I'm allowed to comment on the little that I have so far read. Yet, it's also unsettling that the author is so decisive on adopting the directives of one to the exclusion of the other. I'm all for the shades of grey, myself. I see the extremes and opposites more as determiners of one another than exclusive entities. If I were to adopt Kauffman's language, I would have to call myself "rooted-rootless"—home is a plural: I have the one made by my family, several made by friends, even a few I notched out myself on the headboard of my own lonesome living in distant geographies...

But back to what's poignant here... despite Kauffman's own trench-digging, he is an incurable champion of the particular. Listen to what he says: "It is our task to find the sacred in the everyday." While I shy away from the language of the sacrosanct, I follow the same sort of maxim. It's why I call myself "a voracious pursuer of the idiosyncratic," which amounts to the same thing: a belief that the individual things, if they can be found—like so much else in this world of ours, they, too, have become rare and endangered—will speak the most to us about ourselves and the general things we only purport to understand.

So... really, all this to ask: Where do you fall? Are you an inveterate caster of deep and permanent roots? Are you a nomad? Do you feel like me: a "rooted-rootless" believer in the pluralism of home? Do you distrust one side or the other? What of the everyday? Is it sacred or does it just get in the way?

Video: The Hobby Horse

By Philip Anselmo

We've had a few conversations recently about shopping locally, eating locally... living life in the microcosms of city, village, neighborhood, town, and rather than buying your corn at Tops, say, picking up some ears from a roadside veggie stand or hitting up the farmer's market. For more on that, check out Howard's post about the locavore.

That being said, I would like to introduce folks to the first in a new video series here at The Batavian. We're calling it: Genesee's Treasures. Unless you have a better name for it, and if you do, please send it along. Every couple of weeks or so, we will travel to some spot in Genesee County—be it a farm, a shop, a studio, a park—that we feel is a real treasure in Genesee County. In fact, I've already done a couple of these, only I just now thought of the title and dubbed it a series: check out our video on Enchanted Forest Alpacas, for example.

This, our first official episode of Genesee's Treasures, highlights the philosophy of live local, love local, buy local. It's about the Hobby Horse, a fun everything kind of store on Main Street in Le Roy. The Hobby Horse sells antiques, model rocket kits, handmade pot holders, greeting cards, candy sticks, alpaca wool socks, emu eggs, locally-made mustard... like I said: everything. It's a great place in a great village. Here's a little more for you:

Next episode: Herbly Wonderful.

Local produce gets a push

By Philip Anselmo

I'm a firm believer in buying local produce — when possible. When your green beans come from down the street, you know they're fresh, plus you can support your local growers.

Last summer, I spent a morning with Sharon Nagle of Firefly Farm in Canandaigua. Sharon grows organic vegetables and some fruit. She's a connoisseur of soil conservation and building up the right kind of nutrients, getting the most out of the earth while putting the most back in. She let me taste one of her tomatoes, off the vine. It was a life-changing experience. I never knew a tomato could taste so good.

So, when I read this morning that the Cornell Cooperative Extension of Genesee County is putting together a local produce guide, I simply had to share the information. Right now, they're looking for growers to add to the list.

We are looking for those of you who sell locally grown products (produce, plants, honey, maple, meat, fiber, eggs, etc.) directly to the consumer.

If you have a road side stand, U-pick operation, farm market, nursery, etc. please contact us. We need your Business name, address, phone number, season/hours of operation, and a list of products.

We plan on having this list available to the public on our website, as well as possibly producing a Buy Local brochure.

Call (585) 343-3040 ext.126 for more information, or send an e-mail to Jan Beglinger at jmb374 (at) cornell (dot) edu.

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