The There There Letter: Handmade, Hyperlocal, and Honey
Three things from DAH.
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
The USA's Independence Day weekend crept up on me. Stay safe and sane and think about the fearful dogs in homes nearby before you set off that bomb.
First up this week, Handmade …
We've come full-circle since the early Industrial Revolution. Everything used to be "handmade." Almost everything used to be "homemade" -- individuals and families making things at home which they sold or bartered to fulfill their needs and wants. The Industrial Revolution, beginning in the 18th Century, was about making more faster with fewer human hands applied. And with greater uniformity and consistency. 1850 to 1950 was a time when machine-made was preferable to hand-made (except with very expensive and bespoke luxury items). Machine-made was considered better, safer, cleaner -- fewer dirty disreputable worker's hands on the goods. Handmade homemade bread was for the poor and nutty. Beautiful, clean, safe, machine-made white bread was so much more desirable. Now we're all baking at home again, and I keep reading about things we can handmake and share. From a food perspective, Jonathan Kauffman's 2018 book "Hippie Food" tracks the modern transition.
Hippie Food: How Back-to-the-Landers, Longhairs and Revolutionaries Changed the Way We Eat
Second up this week, Hyperlocal …
Hyperlocal? Dictionary.com defines hyperlocal as "relating to or focused on a very small geographical community." Hyperlocal goes hand-in-hand with handmade and homemade because smaller-scale production usually joins with place-awareness and local markets. Hyperlocal can also slow down global corporatism since scalability (a key to global expansion) is seldom possible. I'm also thinking about hyperlocal because I'm a tourist-type fellow. It's unlikely that we'll be doing much globe-trotting in the coming months or year(s). One way back to appreciating the world beyond one's self is hyperlocal tourism. Learn your own places, your own communities better. Their natural history, their culture; a local focus can be rewarding, and likely essential these days.
Hyper-local Is Where Recovery Starts (Canadians sharing some current travel truths)
Third up this week, Honey …
I've always been nervous about getting stung by a bee. Yet I have seven books about bees on the shelf behind where I sit. They fascinate me. Honey fascinates me. My friend Peter made a mead (a honey ferment) or melomel (honey and fruit ferment) to celebrate his wedding anniversary each year. We'd sip them, fresh and aged, in elegant little glasses. That's a fond memory and elevates honey even higher in my gustatory hierarchy. Plus, not far from where I live, is a lovely hidden bee garden: The Häagen-Dazs Honey Bee Haven on the University of California, Davis campus. Yes, there's a ice-creamy corporate sponsor, but there's nothing corporate feeling about this lovely spot. Nor, as far as I know, does the Haven receive any currently ongoing funding from the ice cream maker. It's free (and lovely) to visit, and needs (deserves) continuing support. The garden is tucked away on Bee Biology Road in Davis, California. Look for the giant mosaic bee sculpture!
Haven no more? (worries from last summer, and good information about the Bee Haven)
A little bit more honey:
"Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough."
(sung by Ariel in The Tempest, Act 5 scene 1, by William Shakespeare)
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
The USA's Independence Day weekend crept up on me. Stay safe and sane and think about the fearful dogs in homes nearby before you set off that bomb.
First up this week, Handmade …
We've come full-circle since the early Industrial Revolution. Everything used to be "handmade." Almost everything used to be "homemade" -- individuals and families making things at home which they sold or bartered to fulfill their needs and wants. The Industrial Revolution, beginning in the 18th Century, was about making more faster with fewer human hands applied. And with greater uniformity and consistency. 1850 to 1950 was a time when machine-made was preferable to hand-made (except with very expensive and bespoke luxury items). Machine-made was considered better, safer, cleaner -- fewer dirty disreputable worker's hands on the goods. Handmade homemade bread was for the poor and nutty. Beautiful, clean, safe, machine-made white bread was so much more desirable. Now we're all baking at home again, and I keep reading about things we can handmake and share. From a food perspective, Jonathan Kauffman's 2018 book "Hippie Food" tracks the modern transition.
Hippie Food: How Back-to-the-Landers, Longhairs and Revolutionaries Changed the Way We Eat
Second up this week, Hyperlocal …
Hyperlocal? Dictionary.com defines hyperlocal as "relating to or focused on a very small geographical community." Hyperlocal goes hand-in-hand with handmade and homemade because smaller-scale production usually joins with place-awareness and local markets. Hyperlocal can also slow down global corporatism since scalability (a key to global expansion) is seldom possible. I'm also thinking about hyperlocal because I'm a tourist-type fellow. It's unlikely that we'll be doing much globe-trotting in the coming months or year(s). One way back to appreciating the world beyond one's self is hyperlocal tourism. Learn your own places, your own communities better. Their natural history, their culture; a local focus can be rewarding, and likely essential these days.
Hyper-local Is Where Recovery Starts (Canadians sharing some current travel truths)
Third up this week, Honey …
I've always been nervous about getting stung by a bee. Yet I have seven books about bees on the shelf behind where I sit. They fascinate me. Honey fascinates me. My friend Peter made a mead (a honey ferment) or melomel (honey and fruit ferment) to celebrate his wedding anniversary each year. We'd sip them, fresh and aged, in elegant little glasses. That's a fond memory and elevates honey even higher in my gustatory hierarchy. Plus, not far from where I live, is a lovely hidden bee garden: The Häagen-Dazs Honey Bee Haven on the University of California, Davis campus. Yes, there's a ice-creamy corporate sponsor, but there's nothing corporate feeling about this lovely spot. Nor, as far as I know, does the Haven receive any currently ongoing funding from the ice cream maker. It's free (and lovely) to visit, and needs (deserves) continuing support. The garden is tucked away on Bee Biology Road in Davis, California. Look for the giant mosaic bee sculpture!
Haven no more? (worries from last summer, and good information about the Bee Haven)
A little bit more honey:
"Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough."
(sung by Ariel in The Tempest, Act 5 scene 1, by William Shakespeare)
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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