When I was a child, living on the farm, we usually traveled the “new” turnpike into Manchester, about 13 miles away, to food shop. There, my mother would buy groceries, lingering with the “meat man” to discuss the freshness of the swordfish or the lamb roast. To make sure the hamburger was fresh, she ask that a roast be ground. Grocery shopping was an outing and a chance for her to “discuss” food. She often got into a debate about whether a sweet potato was really a sweet potato, or if it was a yam, and she claimed to know the difference, being from the South and all.
At a tender age, I had to be transported by bus to the high school I attended, also in Manchester. So, come rain, hail, sleet, or snow, I’d walk about a mile, past a few farms in the wee hours of morning light … in a mini-skirt, no less. Yes, those were the 1960s and minis were in. I sewed a few myself from wool yardage, but they being short … well, say no more! It’s a wonder my knees weren’t permanently frozen solid.
Today, I am thinking about all the open space we once had in New Hampshire. On my morning walk, I’d be greeted by guinea hens, chickens, a friendly goat, and not-so-friendly “watch” geese, and I’d see steers in the field. Back home, I’d leave behind three cows, two horses, chickens, feisty roosters, “barn” cats, and a rabbit, when I trudged down the road with my heavy book bag.
To drive past those same places today is a bit of a shock. There are no farms. However, there ARE houses, houses that have been plunked into the middle of subdivided fields. On the back field, our family farm now sports a new mini-mansion with a surround porch and a four car garage in the field where I once rode my horse, “Montana Red.”
Now, the neighborhood is a microcosm of what has repeatedly happened in my home state. There are few farmers left that grow food, or sell milk. Why, not too long ago, there was talk of taking over an apple orchard to turn it into a development. The people of Concord rose to the occasion and “saved” the orchard.
I believe that high tech this, and high tech that, is fine. Technology promotes innovation and in many ways, makes life a lot easier. I wouldn’t trade our microwave for all the tea in China. However, while we are attempting to improve our I-pods, and make even faster computers, I think we should begin to imagine what life might be like without food.
Traditionally, farmers provided food. The world is in trouble. There are far more pollutants finding their way into food sources. Alarmists have been ringing their bells about the pending consequences of a decreasing oversight concerning food production. We are now turning corn into ethanol, which to some who have thought about the subject, seems obscene. I agree, when so many of the world’s poor are hungry.
In many ways, I am happy that I lived at a time when life itself seemed to make more sense. Today, tearing down all the trees, and converting farm land to big house lots for “country homes,” does not jibe the the reality of our need to conserve. Conservation should be our watchword, if not for ourselves, then for the birds and wildlife and every living entity that shares our planet Earth. “She” has been abundant and giving, but even the best drink of water reaches an end and the glass become empty.
What has made New Hampshire beautiful in the past has been its natural areas, rugged spaces, and yes, it’s farms. We always welcome tourists, but lately, we hope to welcome them and send them back to where they came from, before they develop a thought of moving here.
As too many cooks spoil the broth, too many people spoil my home state. So, if you’d like to ski, to swim, or hike, or visit the Museums here, please find your way to the Granite State. We will be cordial and we will be happy to accept your tourist dollars. New Hampshire is a great state and we’d like to retain some of its natural flavor cultivated by the local characters who are the states’ own sons and daughters. New Hampshire has much to offer, as does the place to which you will return.
Patricia Cummings
