Newspaper finds new relevance on farm

I subscribed to the Minneapolis Star-Tribune until about 18 months ago, when I tired of the paper's mediocre writing and utter irrelevance to my life. The publisher has since made several tele-marketing attempts to get me back, but without success. There are simply too many places for me to find "news" free on the internet; besides, the Strib editorial staff never really provided content that matched my interests or my values. But suddenly, I'm needing to rethink my decision. Here's why.

Mother Earth News (online edition) reports that newspapers make for excellent mulch in the garden. By laying sheets of newspapers up to a quarter inch thick over my soil, then covering the paper with grass clippings or decaying leaves, I can block the sun's rays to the outwardly agressive weeds that populate the property while still allowing air and water to filter through to the roots of my desirable plants.

This is a true revelation for me, folks. Last summer I fought off weeds that by mid-July resembled dwarf trees. And with 26 rows of grapevines going in come Spring, weeding had the potential to become a fulltime second career. Now, thanks to the newspaper, I might be able to reduce the time I spend on my knees in the dirt and turn my attention to other pursuits.

And, just think of the fun I'll have shoveling compost on the bylines of quality journalists such as Neal Justin, Sid Hartmann and C.J. If only Doug Grow hadn't taken the buyout!

Dare to dream the impossible

I’ve been busy putting together a video for a client and the project involves a lot of my time spent searching. Searching for just the right image, still or moving, to communicate a moment in time that, ultimately, will communicate something important for my client.

I help people tell their stories and as the old adage goes, a picture is worth a thousand words. (Although I’m still pretty fond of words.) Anyway, as I was searching, searching, searching … often the most significant task of the day, I found an amazing photo that serves to remind that anything is possible. Anything. You’ve seen the picture before, I’m sure of it. But here it is again.

Anything is possible. Even when all your detractors (and there always are detractors) say your dreams are impossible. This could possibly be the coolest picture ever taken in more than a century.

A plan for January

The weatherman said to expect the windchill to be -45 degrees F. by sunrise.

I object.

Called to write

The journey through transition is an attempt to discern a calling. All of us, I believe, are called to some purpose, role, vocation … to something. The challenges that arise with these “callings” are: hearing them, believing in them, and following through -- especially when your calling sets you on a forward journey through uncharted territory, as has mine.

Some days I feel as if I’m Moses wandering through the desert. At some point, I’ll have to tell those who follow my movements that I’m on a journey but I’m not really sure where I’m going, what I’m looking for or even how I’ll recognize my destination when I find it. But, I travel nonetheless because doing so has been asked of me. It’s just me attempting to answer a call, which, honestly, was nothing more than a faint, barely discernable whisper which I couldn’t now describe if my life depended upon it. I didn’t see a blinding light. There were no angels. I didn’t get knocked on my can.

I can hear grumblings from the crowd already. Such craziness!

My calling is to write. Okay, I can hear the questions forming in your heads. What will you write about? Who will you write about? Will it be a book? How many pages will it be? How long will it take you? You know people don’t read anymore, don’t you?

My answers to these questions are: I don’t know; I don’t know; I don’t know; I don’t know; I don’t know; and, I know.

And yes, I’m already a writer so what’s the big deal, you might wonder. Well, part of the call is finding a new purpose for my words. It’s about finding a truer story. It’s about writing more honestly than my clients have ever allowed me to write. It’s about opening a door for readers; a door they hadn’t realized existed.

I was telling a wise friend who helps me with my transition how all the uncertainties I face to answer this call had become a worry.

“What are you sure of?” she asked. “What do you know you have?”

I have resolve.
I have the ability to overcome.
I have a place where the spirit stirs within me.
I have stories.
I have faith.
I have a call.

“You have a lot,” she said.