Introduction

One of the first questions a speaker or writer needs to answer, to gain the attention of the audience, is “why do I care”  What is going to cause me, the audience member, to invest an amount of time and energy here and now on this presentation, rather than any other option currently available?

I guess my answer(s) would include: Do you like to eat? Do you like fresh food? Do you like being healthy? Those really are the crux of what I’m presenting. Hopefully, you also like being outside, physical activities, puzzles, logic, nature, beauty, and you are goal-driven, auto-didactic, and much more. I’m not seeking to be the ultimate gardening guru because I don’t have all the answers; in fact, while I may have some information and experience, I have far more questions and curiosities, and that, hopefully, will be more memorable and contagious. 

There are multitudes of other texts, articles, videos, and courses on gardening/farming, having been a topic of conversation and education since the invention of language itself and the succeeding technological advances, purportedly improving our ability to store and distribute knowledge. My approach is going to come from a perspective of one who grew up on a row crop farm, most memorably in the 1970s and 1980s, during the Nixon (President), Earl Butz (Sec. of Ag) era watching my paternal immediate and extended family engaged in the profession, and most especially my father, as one of several farmers, who made multiple trips to Washington D.C. lobbying Congress and the Dept of Ag to abolish the “rice allotment” system which limited who could grow rice, and how much, to only those given an “allotment”. They were successful. I heard terms like “parity” and the Butz philosophies of “Get big or get out”, “Fencerow to fencerow” almost as often and with the same importance as the lessons in the Southern Baptist Churches we attended. Neither of which, at least up through High School, was even open to debate or discussion. It’s what we did, it’s who we were and always had been, and it’s the way the world was. 

One thing to know about a lot of farmers, if you don’t know already… They are hard-headed and control freaks. At least in my family, and that led to a kitchen table discussion as I neared graduation, between myself, my mother, and father, as to what I was going to do after graduation. More education was pretty much a given, but what kind and where? Being a teenager, and my high-school car being a 1957 Chevy (4-door sedan, not the more desirable 2-door hardtop Belair), I actually wanted to go to Nashville Auto-Diesel school, like my paternal uncle, and eventually build hot rods to sell or rent. Yeah, the dreams of youth. I also actually wanted to farm; however, as stated above, farmers are control freaks, and as could be expected, my father and I butted heads often, but were honest enough about it to know that us working together on the farm, full-time, would be difficult at best. Very likely, we would quite literally have to draw up essentially contracts as to what was my domain, what was his, and how, if, and when control of land or other responsibilities would transition over time to me. 

So the real question, when one got down to it was, Were we going to work together… or were we going to remain friends, meaning I would do something completely different. So, rather than Nashville, I ended up going to the local university, which my father had graduated from in the ‘60s with a degree in accounting. The agreement was that I would at least get my “core” classes in, and then revisit the Nashville option. I went, got involved, flirted with a couple of majors and ended up with a BS in Psychology, that most useful and lucrative of bachelor’s degrees. Long story short, and trying to get back to the gardening/farming stuff before you, the reader decide to use this paper as kindling or birdcage liner, I got that degree, worked in that field a bit, ended up in I.T. for 15 years in international companies, got downsized, took the severance and went to nursing school, first as an LPN then RN, along with a whole host of other experiences along the way including; firefighting, EMS, parttime police, competitive bagpiper, attempting a pilots license and more. 

The Nursing was mostly hospice, but with a bit of medical ER in Memphis in there and a smidge of a couple more things. I never claimed to be a “good” nurse, but I at least did the best I could while on shift. I more or less took a break from nursing just before COVID hit, of course, having no idea it was coming, and for the most part, while I do keep my license up (it’s fairly easy to do in Arkansas), I haven’t actually -worked- as a nurse since, and that’s been about 6 years. 

Somewhere during all of this, I started gardening again. First, the only way I knew how. Till the bejezus out of part of my back yard, straight rows of the typical southern garden fare: tomatoes, okra, summer squash, potatoes, sweet potatoes, etc. Bags of fertilizer and all the typical potions and powders to ensure nothing with more or fewer legs than I have was near these plants. No weeds, bare soil, clean, straight, and completely under control. 

Then I ran across this lady named Ruth Stout, lasagna gardening, mulch, chemical-free, no-till, and then.. Permaculture. Down the rabbit hole(s) I went. 

Courses so far have included Dr Elaine Ingham’s “Soil Food Web Fundamentals,” for which I bought a fairly expensive microscope with attached camera and got a taste of focusing on the life in the soil rather than just the physical and chemical composition. A Permaculture Design Certificate from Oregon State University, Rainwater Harvesting from Verge Permaculture (Canada), and several others. I’ve spent thousands of dollars and years trying to learn how to steward and more often than not, create actually live, healthy soil with the goal of then growing healthy plants without poisons, and in a way which left the soil better and healthier -after- the crop than before, rather than worse off and degraded. 

At this point, I risk getting on my soapbox, going down the rabbit holes, and starting to rant or preach on many topics, but… that is what the following chapters are for.  This is the introduction, the answer to the “why do I care” question, and where I essentially tell you what I hope to tell you, before I tell you. I’m going to focus on food production. Flowers and ornamental gardens are great, but while they may feed the eyes and soul, they don’t (at least the way we tend to garden in the U.S.) feed the body, though much of it can, but that’s a chapter or two itself. 

I’m going to focus on the practical and the logical. I’m going to present, to the best of my knowledge, the principles that inform decisions on what to grow, when, and how. I’ll share what I have done, what has worked, and what has not, for me, where I live. I will not give prescriptions that everyone should follow. What grows and works here, for me, with my climate and resources, may be very different from what grows and works for you, where you are.  But many of the principles may be of use.

Above all of that, and before we even begin to consider what to grow, where to grow it, how to grow it.. I’ll present my understanding and make an argument for starting with the “Why” to garden or farm. Without a clear decision and understanding of the why, which then informs and directs the what/where/when/how… all the rest is, in my view, just expending time, resources and energy to no meaningful or useful end. I take this topic seriously, very seriously, as it is my firm belief, at almost 60 years of age, that we cannot speak of food costs, or quality, or health, or resilience (personal or societal), without at least an understanding of what food really is, or should be. Where it comes from, how it is produced, and what it is worth.

My goal, with my personal on-the-ground efforts and this book, is to combine my multi-generational agricultural heritage, along with my nursing training, and more, which I have given the name “Hippocrates ’ Garden” into something which elevates you from a “garden technician” (simply following a series of instructions, with little if any understanding), into a thinking, reasoning, goal directed food garden analyst and practitioner. I will share my observations, very little of the actual information originated with me, of that I am fully aware, and hope to give all the credit due, I’m just trying to reformulate it in a relatable way, and with a blunt honesty which at times, may even border on offensiveness, however since time marches on, and none of us are getting younger, or getting out of this thing called life, alive, I don’t feel the urge or need to beat around the bush. With that said, let me get the ball rolling with one of my favorite conversation starters, when someone mentions they may be “food insecure”. I ask if they have a lawn mower, and if so, do they use it?

The point being, if they have a lawn mower, and use it, they obviously have access to land, water, and sunlight. Exactly what is needed to grow food? Why are they spending time, money, and effort growing Bermuda or some other grass, rather than nutrition? This is not a judgment of them, but of our U.S. society, where even those who are at or below the poverty line feel the peer pressure, if not risk a fine, if they do not have an acceptable lawn. 

If we want different results in our food supply, quality, health, etc., we have to do things differently. Not only do things differently, but think differently. I hope to interest you, and pass on, some of the things which completely shifted how I think about gardening, food, and what my legacy to the following generations will be.