Journal
Announcing::2014 Taproot Calendar with Art by Phoebe Wahl
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We're pleased to announce that our 2014 Taproot Calendar with art by Phoebe Wahl is available. It features Phoebe's watercolor paintings and includes four new never-before-seen images. The monthly calendars are hand-lettered and drawn with plenty of room to fill in all the important dates in your (hopefully not too busy) life.
It measures 12" x 11" closed (24" x 11" when folded open and hung, using the pre-drilled hole). It's printed on heavyweight, matte, 50% post-consumer recycled paper with soy and vegetable-based inks.
To learn more (or to order your very own for yourself or as a gift) head on over to taprootmag.com.
~jason
P.S. I just can't help myself...It's a Wahl Calendar. Get it? Oh, well, never mind. Moving right along...
hands :: knitting decisions
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We, the knitters here at Taproot (we've only got one team member yet to convert before we're all knitters!), consider ourselves very lucky to have the work of Carrie Hoge inside our pages. Her knitwear patterns are so thoughtfully written, beautifully designed and a true pleasure to knit (and then wear). The patterns she crafted for GATHER - Fawn Hoodie and Legwarmers - range in size from three months to twelve years! There's one for everyone in there.
Our only trouble is deciding which of her gorgeous photographs to use inside the pages (some outtakes above). And then deciding upon just the right yarn to knit the patterns with. Oh, but these are the kind of difficult decisions that we can happily live with.
~amanda
farewell fair.
There's really just no place quite like the MOFGA Common Ground Country Fair. Full of food, farm, family, and craft (oh you know, just a few of our favorite things!), we couldn’t think of a more perfect place to usher in fall.
This past weekend, we were welcomed to Unity, Maine with two days of beautiful blue skies, which then turned eerily grey and gloomy.....
.....but just in time for happy farewells, burst through bright and serene again.
The perfect ending to an inspiring weekend full of blue ribbon winners, thoughtful educational workshops, loads ...and loads... and loads of delicious local food, dreamy fibers and handicrafts, and lots of good folks to share good times with over a busy three days.
We so appreciated seeing familiar friends mixed with new encouraging faces. A sincere thank you to all of you who stopped by with a hello, kind word, helpful suggestion and yes, we were so grateful for all of the new subscribers too (THANK YOU!). We loved hearing about how you stumbled upon your first issue, how you’re sharing subscriptions as special gifts, how you’ve discovered connections in the pages and found a sense of community, and how much you would like to see us out and about more.
And with that, we leave you with a few snapshots from our time together, while we here reflect on your ideas and enthusiastically brainstorm where we'll venture out to next.
~andrea
Taproot Gathering :: Wrap Up
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I think I speak for all of us on the Taproot team when I say that we are all so happy to be home with our loved ones (being the homebodies that I know each of us to be), but simultaneously, a little bit sad that such a beautiful week is over. Our Taproot Gathering at Squam was nothing short of amazing, really. Lovely, fun, spirited, creative, gentle, compassionate connections were everywhere we looked, and I, for one, am still reeling from it all. We hope all who attended are returning home with as much inspiration and feeling of renewal as we have. It was a pleasure, and an honor to host this, our first gathering, with the lovely Elizabeth of Squam Art Workshops. We'll spend this coming winter brainstorming and dreaming up what comes next for us - and you - here at Taproot. Do be in touch (editor@taprootmag.com) with any feedback, thoughts and ideas you may have about what another Taproot Gathering would ideally look like to you!
~amanda
Taproot Gathering :: Registration & Day One
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Guests at our first Taproot Gathering began arriving Wednesday afternoon and checked in with the helpful folks from Squam Art Workshops who are co-hosting the event. After picking up the obligatory tote bag, choosing one of three generously donated books from Roost Books and a Taproot mason jar equipped for travel with a Cuppow lid, they headed out to the porch to get to know one another and wait for the tasty hors d'oeuvres that kicked off the event. After supper, we all headed over to the Playhouse where Elizabeth Duvivier of Squam formally opened the Gathering and introduced the teachers. A sudden downpour extended the proceedings in a happy way as Stephanine Pearl-McPhee entertained the crowd with humorous stories until the worst of the rain had passed.
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I was gladdened to see the variety of crafts that participants were creating (people can share works-in-progress and finished works on a table in the dining hall). From wooden spoons and birch bark containers to three dimensional creatures to plant-dyeing, canning, herbal preparations and much more; it seems to me that everyone is developing new skills and techniques. We closed out the day with a talk by contributor Ben Hewitt. Even as he inspired us and made us laugh, weaving together the threads of putting up hay for the winter, child-rearing, community and our place in the web of life, he nourished us with practical ways to become more connected to each other, to the earth and to our true selves.
Personally, I ended the day reflecting on the enthusiasm, intention and energy people are bringing to this Gathering. I want for us to do more of this, to have the opportunity to bring the pages of Taproot to life in more places and make it doable (financially, with family, with less time commitment) for more people, even as I know that there is something magical about this particular kind of experience.
-jason
at the Art Fair
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We're settling back into home after a delightful weekend at Squam Art Workshops, where we were so pleased to meet so many of you at the Art Fair! Thanks for stopping by to subscribe, renew, buy prints, or even better - to offer encouraging words. We are grateful for that, and the good company we found in the woods of New Hampshire. Special thanks to our long-time artist, Phoebe Wahl, for her time spent in the booth visiting with folks. It all has us even more excited about September!
~ amanda
Let's Just Say
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...that you had spent much of the Memorial Day weekend at the Farm & Yard buying pipe gates and cattle panels, scratching your head about the best way to redo/enlarge your cow paddock and then implementing said plan.
...that you had congratulated yourself, patted yourself on the back, felt a certain smugness at the cleverness of your design once you saw your calves safely and happily ensconced in one stall and their mother in the other.
(forgive me if you already see where this is headed)
...you were further pleased as the calves seemed to be minding the confinement of their new quarters.
...that you looked outside this morning as you are pulling on boots to go down for chores and milking and said to yourself, "Oh that's nice, they're all laying together."
...you realized that was not the state of affairs you expected since they were securely locked up the night before.
...it dawns on you that cows are if not smarter, at least stronger and more determined than humans, especially when milk is at stake.
Suffice it to say, all this did happen and the morning was spent securing cattle panels, adding electric fence around the inside the perimeter of the calf stall, and otherwise upping the ante in the perpetual arms race between the farmer (alright, homesteader) and the critters they have the pleasure to keep.
Will our fortifications hold? We'll know tomorrow.
-jason
Beyond the Pages :: Koviashuvik Local Living School
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After our interview with Chris and Ashirah Knapp in the latest issue, DREAM, we've been hearing requests for more information about the offerings of the Knapp family. Chris and Ashirah teach classes in traditional craft, folk arts, and sustainability both at their home/school Koviashuvik in Temple, Maine and at various locations in New England (we're excited to have them both teaching at our Taproot Gathering at Squam event in September!). Check out their website for their full teaching schedule, and to read a bit more about them. The above photographs are taken from a homeschool group the Knapps led for us many years ago now.
~ amanda
and from the Soule Family Farm
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While I may not consider this nearly as exciting as the arrival of Nick and Nora over at Anthill Farm, my children would beg to differ. On the very same day Jason was delayed in our scheduled chat about the upcoming issue WATER by the surprise arrival of the twins, I was delayed here in Maine by the arrival of our spring chicks. Adding a few new breeds to our laying flock this year, we have some silver-laced wyandottes and black australorps, currently settling nicely into the farm by our woodstove, where the temperature is just right for them in this cold snap we're having.
~ amanda
Excitement at Anthill Farm
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Our family has kept a dairy cow for the last three years. We are new to bovines; both Rachael and I grew up in the city and next-to-no contact with an animal larger than a Labrador Retriever. So while we've been through the births of two calves on our farm, we would never venture to call ourselves experts in any sense of the word. Partly, this is the result of time, but it somewhat has to do with the fact that Violet (our dairy cow) is so totally self-sufficient in giving birth at the time and place of her choosing with no intervention on our part. Because of that, we've been spoiled into a kind of complacency, doing very little beyond making sure there's fresh bedding, plenty of water for her to drink and access to the barn when we know that the birth is imminent.
All of this to say that we weren't prepared for what awaited us when we went down for morning chores last Wednesday. As we left the house, I thought I caught just a snippet of Violet's gentle "get up calf" moo. I dismissed it as it was still a few days early for her to calve and she's always been late. Must have been road noise, I told myself. We walked down from the house, me with a pair of water buckets (since the frost-free hydrant down by the barn seized up over a month ago, a major bother at first, but now just part of our routine) and Rachael with some scraps from the kitchen for the chickens.
As I approached the spring gates that hold the cow in the paddock and field, I heard the "get up calf" moo again and I knew something was up. I called to Rachael, who was at the other end of the barn turning off the electric fence, so that she would hurry over. Violet was out of both the barn and the paddock and just far enough away in the new daylight savings time darkness (this was about 6:30am), all I could see was her outline and some lumps in the field that could have been piles of hay that she hadn't eaten. They weren't.
As we entered the gate and walked over to where she was, we saw them. That's right, them.
Two calves were laying out in what had been snow but was now ice. Never mind that we had purposely bought straw for the barn, an expense we hadn't allowed ourselves all winter, contenting ourselves with the absorptive qualities of third-cut hay instead. She had instead elected to give birth in one of the coldest spots of the field. Rachael, bless her soul, immediately decided on a course of action. It's important for me to remember at times like these what a great team we make, because once all the shooting's over, we have very different styles of dealing with stressful situations like this.
She grabbed the goading stick (a sawn off piece of shovel handle) and held off Violet while I grabbed each of the two calves and carried them into the barn. Don't get the wrong impression; the stick is just intended as a way to even the odds with the Violet, who has her horns and doesn't hesitate to shake her head and waggle them if she is upset. After she's given birth, upset is a bit of an understatement. She is fiercely protective of her calves and probably tired and hopped up on hormones. All of this is completely understandable and part of what makes her such a great mother.
That said, nobody needs to get hurt.
Once the calves were successfully moved, Violet followed along into the barn and proceeded to lick the little heifer. The bull (now named Nick) looked pretty bad. He wasn't moving much and we feared he wouldn't make it. Nora (the heifer) looked pretty good, though she wasn't making any attempt to get up and nurse either. After letting things ride for a couple of hours, our friends Ben and Penny came over with a five-gallon bucket filled about half full with colostrum. After Ben pushed Violet out of the barn, we fed about half a bottle to each of them and dried them off with towels. After that, everything has looked up. By Thursday afternoon, as you can see above, they had perked up considerably.
I say everything looked up, but there is a downside to having a heifer and a bull as twins and it's called freemartinism (a funny word we can't find the origin for). Basically it means that there's a 90% chance the heifer will be sterile. Our elation at having a bull to beef in the fall and a heifer to train to be another milker was dashed. Not all is lost though; it just means there'll be a little more meat in the freezer this year.
-jason
All of this to say that we weren't prepared for what awaited us when we went down for morning chores last Wednesday. As we left the house, I thought I caught just a snippet of Violet's gentle "get up calf" moo. I dismissed it as it was still a few days early for her to calve and she's always been late. Must have been road noise, I told myself. We walked down from the house, me with a pair of water buckets (since the frost-free hydrant down by the barn seized up over a month ago, a major bother at first, but now just part of our routine) and Rachael with some scraps from the kitchen for the chickens.
As I approached the spring gates that hold the cow in the paddock and field, I heard the "get up calf" moo again and I knew something was up. I called to Rachael, who was at the other end of the barn turning off the electric fence, so that she would hurry over. Violet was out of both the barn and the paddock and just far enough away in the new daylight savings time darkness (this was about 6:30am), all I could see was her outline and some lumps in the field that could have been piles of hay that she hadn't eaten. They weren't.
As we entered the gate and walked over to where she was, we saw them. That's right, them.
Two calves were laying out in what had been snow but was now ice. Never mind that we had purposely bought straw for the barn, an expense we hadn't allowed ourselves all winter, contenting ourselves with the absorptive qualities of third-cut hay instead. She had instead elected to give birth in one of the coldest spots of the field. Rachael, bless her soul, immediately decided on a course of action. It's important for me to remember at times like these what a great team we make, because once all the shooting's over, we have very different styles of dealing with stressful situations like this.
She grabbed the goading stick (a sawn off piece of shovel handle) and held off Violet while I grabbed each of the two calves and carried them into the barn. Don't get the wrong impression; the stick is just intended as a way to even the odds with the Violet, who has her horns and doesn't hesitate to shake her head and waggle them if she is upset. After she's given birth, upset is a bit of an understatement. She is fiercely protective of her calves and probably tired and hopped up on hormones. All of this is completely understandable and part of what makes her such a great mother.
That said, nobody needs to get hurt.
Once the calves were successfully moved, Violet followed along into the barn and proceeded to lick the little heifer. The bull (now named Nick) looked pretty bad. He wasn't moving much and we feared he wouldn't make it. Nora (the heifer) looked pretty good, though she wasn't making any attempt to get up and nurse either. After letting things ride for a couple of hours, our friends Ben and Penny came over with a five-gallon bucket filled about half full with colostrum. After Ben pushed Violet out of the barn, we fed about half a bottle to each of them and dried them off with towels. After that, everything has looked up. By Thursday afternoon, as you can see above, they had perked up considerably.
I say everything looked up, but there is a downside to having a heifer and a bull as twins and it's called freemartinism (a funny word we can't find the origin for). Basically it means that there's a 90% chance the heifer will be sterile. Our elation at having a bull to beef in the fall and a heifer to train to be another milker was dashed. Not all is lost though; it just means there'll be a little more meat in the freezer this year.
-jason
Beyond the Pages :: A Bit More about William Coperthwaite
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After we went to press with DREAM, I had this middle-of-the-night fear that not all readers would be aware of who William Coperthwaite (interviewed by Rachael Miller in the piece, Community, Coöperation & Craft) was. To alleviate my worry, I thought I'd share with you a little of his story and suggest that if you're interested to learn more that you take a look at his book A Handmade Life (Chelsea Green, 2007).
Mr. Coperthwaite lives a simple life on a wooded 500 acre spread on the Maine coast that is now owned by the organization he and friends created called the Yurt Foundation. For many years, he has promoted the yurt as an ecologically responsible form of housing. Indeed, he was instrumental in the popularization of this traditional building form, though the wooden yurts he has helped people build over the years (over 300 at last count) are sturdy wooden structures a far cry from their vinyl brethren.
Beyond yurts, Mr. Coperthwaite has spent much of his life traveling and learning from different cultures, always with an eye to understanding the basic needs of people and how tools and social structures can create and foster sustainable, cooperative and democratic societies. He shares what he knows in workshops that help to give people the encouragement they need to become more active participants in their own lives with something as prosaic as a handmade spoon.
A true elder statesman of the sustainability movement, I encourage you to learn more about Mr. Coperthwaite. It was a joy and an honor to be able to meet and visit with him. If you know of other folks like him who we might interview in the future, please let us know at ideas@taprootmag.com.
-jason
Mr. Coperthwaite lives a simple life on a wooded 500 acre spread on the Maine coast that is now owned by the organization he and friends created called the Yurt Foundation. For many years, he has promoted the yurt as an ecologically responsible form of housing. Indeed, he was instrumental in the popularization of this traditional building form, though the wooden yurts he has helped people build over the years (over 300 at last count) are sturdy wooden structures a far cry from their vinyl brethren.
Beyond yurts, Mr. Coperthwaite has spent much of his life traveling and learning from different cultures, always with an eye to understanding the basic needs of people and how tools and social structures can create and foster sustainable, cooperative and democratic societies. He shares what he knows in workshops that help to give people the encouragement they need to become more active participants in their own lives with something as prosaic as a handmade spoon.
A true elder statesman of the sustainability movement, I encourage you to learn more about Mr. Coperthwaite. It was a joy and an honor to be able to meet and visit with him. If you know of other folks like him who we might interview in the future, please let us know at ideas@taprootmag.com.
-jason
ISSUE 5 :: DREAM available now!
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It's that time again to keep vigil by the mailbox for the next issue of Taproot. If you've subscribed, you should see your copy soon, if not, or if your subscription has lapsed, there's still time to subscribe or renew and get your copy.
It might seem incredibly corny to have the theme DREAM for our spring issue, but I'd like to suggest that it's anything but. Emerging from the depths of winter, we can use plenty of inspiration as we prepare for the mad dash that is the all-too-short growing season, at least here in the Northeast.
And this issue is filled with all manner of inspiring contributions sure to get your own juices flowing and imagination soaring with the possibilities that spring always brings. Kicking off the issue is Schirin Oeding's piece about the plight of honeybees. Hopefully you'll come away committed to lending a hand by setting up your own hive. Push a few pages in and you'll find Stacy Brenner suggesting an alternative to traditional farm ownership that could give aspiring farmers access to land and engage local communities in securing open lands for future generations.
We'll not shortshrift our Hands or Heart sections either. Following on the heels of her wonderful piece from Issue 4 about home cheesemaking, Louella Hill takes us on a journey to pick up some raw milk and then prepare kefir and spiced ghee (yummy!). New contributors Bridget Rose McKeen and Amy Thompson provide with us with ideas big and small for sharing the joys of family and commmuity, all while living closer to the ground. Regular contributors Ben Hewitt and Meredith Winn also add some heartfelt thoughts that will give you something to think about as you wander the rows poking your seedlings into the ground.
We're also releasing signed prints of art in Issue 5 from Clayton Thompson and Phoebe Wahl. Take a look below to see them or visit the Print Shop for our full selection. [gallery ids="439,437,440,438"] In other news, full details of the inaugural Taproot Gathering are now up, including class teachers and the full schedule. Head over and take a peek, won't you? We're really excited to see it all come together and hope to see you there. Remember, registration opens April 8. -jason
It might seem incredibly corny to have the theme DREAM for our spring issue, but I'd like to suggest that it's anything but. Emerging from the depths of winter, we can use plenty of inspiration as we prepare for the mad dash that is the all-too-short growing season, at least here in the Northeast.
And this issue is filled with all manner of inspiring contributions sure to get your own juices flowing and imagination soaring with the possibilities that spring always brings. Kicking off the issue is Schirin Oeding's piece about the plight of honeybees. Hopefully you'll come away committed to lending a hand by setting up your own hive. Push a few pages in and you'll find Stacy Brenner suggesting an alternative to traditional farm ownership that could give aspiring farmers access to land and engage local communities in securing open lands for future generations.
We'll not shortshrift our Hands or Heart sections either. Following on the heels of her wonderful piece from Issue 4 about home cheesemaking, Louella Hill takes us on a journey to pick up some raw milk and then prepare kefir and spiced ghee (yummy!). New contributors Bridget Rose McKeen and Amy Thompson provide with us with ideas big and small for sharing the joys of family and commmuity, all while living closer to the ground. Regular contributors Ben Hewitt and Meredith Winn also add some heartfelt thoughts that will give you something to think about as you wander the rows poking your seedlings into the ground.
We're also releasing signed prints of art in Issue 5 from Clayton Thompson and Phoebe Wahl. Take a look below to see them or visit the Print Shop for our full selection. [gallery ids="439,437,440,438"] In other news, full details of the inaugural Taproot Gathering are now up, including class teachers and the full schedule. Head over and take a peek, won't you? We're really excited to see it all come together and hope to see you there. Remember, registration opens April 8. -jason