#Small farmers

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

By Gregory E. Williams

Is millionaire J.D. Vance a populist or a fake populist? And, for that matter, what is populism?

Historically, the populist movement in the U.S. was a progressive, left-wing movement. It was centered around the People’s Party in the 1890s and had traction into the first few years of the 20th Century. It was biggest in the South and West, in areas thought to be intractably right-wing nowadays. Based among small farm owners, it was a movement that fought against the rising power of big corporations and banks. 

[waiitiridge]

Over the last year I was able to finish my potting shed (complete with a diy window), get a bit more blooming in my garden, and (most recently) finish a tunnel house. Still on thay paycheck to paycheck budget but i collected useful rubbish for months to make it doable. We used hothouse plastic a tomato farm was dumping, old vinyard nets, old fence posts for the beams, and some polypiping my partner found in the forest. We still had to buy cement and the larger timber pieces but we saved ourselves heaps. It also came out bomb proof which is nice for a very windy ridge top. I still have a pile of old villa windows for a tomato and pepper house but I'll need to make some money before i can get the framing timber 😅

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Manitoba Farmers Are Going Home in Trucks,” Kingston Whig-Standard. October 19, 1932. Page 11.   ---- WINNIPEG, Oct. 19 — In trucks supplied by the Workers' International Relief Association, 500 farmers who marched to Winnipeg to place economic grievances before Premier John Bracken were homeward sound today.

Refused Government assistance of free transportation home, some of the marchers started back to the land late Tuesday, and today other members of the Farmers' Unity League, who could not be accommodated immediately, will journey homeward

[bestagriculture]

Livelihood Security for Small-Scale Farmers

Small farmers play a crucial role in the agricultural landscape, but they often encounter obstacles when it comes to sustaining their livelihoods. However, amidst these challenges, there are ample opportunities for small-scale producers to thrive as entrepreneurs. By bypassing traditional market routes and selling their products directly to customers, such as vegetables or even transforming…

[authne]

Indian Government Considers Cash Backing to Small Farmers

The Indian government is thinking about expanding cash backing to small farmers by 33% to acquire support from this urgent democratic alliance in front of races. This move, whenever executed, would cost the public authority an extra ₹1.5 lakh crore each year. Small farmers are a significant democratic coalition in India, and they have been progressively vocal about their requests lately. They…

[thecompany123]

Farmland is a huge investment. If you do, then it can bring you a lot of monetary benefits. Therefore, if you are looking for farmland for sale in Melbourne then contact The Company, real estate agent.

Real more- https://thecompanyre.blogspot.com/2023/07/small-scale-farmer-profitable-cash-crop.html

[unknownn-girl]

the love you lost with her skin so fair

is free with the wind in her butterscotch hair

her green eyes blew goodbyes

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[vampiricfungi]

[nuggiesauces]

That Leah sketch from yesterday is done and over~

I need to figure out how to export the time lapse from Sketchbook but we'll get there.

[ed13d1]

Andrew Wyeth • Autumn Cornfield, 1950

[girlcig666]

let me be your cowgirl

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Posse in Woods Seeks Farmhand Who Chases And Shot At Employer,” Toronto Star. September 26, 1932. Page 17. ---- Hired Man Ran Amok With Rifle – Now at Large Near Pembroke --- FIRED AT CHASER --- Believed to Have Become Crazed When Told He Would Lose Job ---- Pembroke, Ont., Sept. 26. – Armed with shotguns, revolvers, police batons and bludgeons, a posse under provincial police set out at dawn to-day through the thickly wooded outlying parts of Pembroke in search of Frank Whitford, 34, English-born farm hand, who, with high-powered rifle chased Lawrence Sheedy half a mile, shot at him, and then shot at Sheedy’s cousin, Thos. Sheedy.

Believed to have become temporarily crazed when told that he would be out of employment after Saturday night, and harboring a grudge against Lawrence Sheedy, his employer, because he was not permitted to attend a county fair. Whitford, who came to Canada from England when a small orphan, seized, a high-powered rifle yesterday, and chased Sheedy half a mile, firing shots at him at intervals.

One shot struck Sheedy’s clothing and grazed his skin. He was not severely injured.

Falling to catch up to Sheedy, Whitford turned his attention to a cousin of Lawrence Sheedy, Thomas, farmer of Connaught settlement. He fired two shots at him, but did not injured him.

Failing to strike down either of his enemies, Whitford then took for the woods, evading efforts of police and neighbors.

To-day, a posse of police, assisted by farmers and residents of Pembroke, started out in many directions in search of Whitford.

‘We don’t know exactly where he went, so it is going to be a difficult hunt,’ Constable Canney told The Star today.

‘There was no reason for Whitford becoming angry at my husband,’ Mrs. Lawrence Sheedy told The Star today.

‘Was Whitford refused permission to go to the fair?’ “Mr. Sheedy told him he could go in the daytime, but not in the evening.’

‘Was Whitford dismissed from your employ?’ ‘He was dismissed last Tuesday, but we let him stay on until Sunday. He didn’t want to go and took a rifle we had in the house and a box of cartridges and began to chase my husband up the road, shooting at him every few seconds.;’

Whitford, according to Mrs. Sheedy, was a good workman and had caused no previous trouble.

Whitford has seven or eight cartridges in his possession, according to Mrs. Sheedy, and ‘may put up a fight if he is cornered.’

[dearhearted111]

that one good morning will destroy me when you're gone

[thecompany123]

Farmland is a huge investment. If you do, then it can bring you a lot of monetary benefits. Therefore, if you are looking for farmland for sale in Melbourne then contact The Company, real estate agent.