The Crab Chronicles

Comfort Farms Documentary

My admiration for the work Jon Jackson is doing at Comfort Farms is well known. I'v written about him here and here. His unique method of using Agro-Cognitive Therapy to help veterans heal from PTSD and other issues actually works well. Working outside, tending crops and farm animals, is healing in a way that is unique and lasting. 

My neighbor and friend Carlisle Kellam has traveled to Comfort Farms twice now and will go again, and we are well on the way to getting enough footage to make an incredible documentary about Comfort Farms, which is really exciting. 

Yesterday, the Comfort Farms documentary website launched.

You can go here and watch the 2 minute trailer for the movie.

It's also really important to help us pay for getting the movie made. You can donate here. 

If you want to donate directly to Comfort Farms, which is a 501C3 charity, you can do so here. You can designate that part or all of the money go towards making the movie.

Ultimately, Carlisle and I hope that the documentary will spotlight Jon and his work at Comfort Farms, and really get donations rolling in. Every dollar Jon collects goes towards helping vets, not him. Ultimately, the goal is for Comfort Farms to be partially or mostly self-sustaining, with sales of produce and meat supporting Comfort Farms.

Twenty Questions With Teresa Smithmyer of Bulls Bay Saltworks

Teresa Smithmyer loves the deep South, and it’s not because she was born or raised here. Living in McClellanville, she is outside of but near Charleston, South Carolina. Teresa gets to experience the rural south, but she can head into Charleston for more urban/cultural activities. She often participates in food gatherings and festivals, promoting the line of smoked salts she makes at Bulls Bay Saltworks.

Teresa was born in Papua, New Guinea, to parents working with Catholic missionaries. Her dad is an electrical engineer and her mom is a nurse. Although her early years were spent in New Guinea, most of her childhood was spent in Maryland. 

Before harvesting salt from the sea, Teresa spent her professional life working in the tourism industry. She lived in between Florida and Alaska, seasonally for 8 years, and hiked and kayaked through the everglades. In southeast Alaska she worked as a river rafting guide for a company that took cruise ship passengers out for the day and lived in the small town of Haines.

When Teresa and her husband were searching for a place to move, years ago, they felt the southeast offered the best proximity to water and family, and they liked the climate.

“When we first moved here in 2011, I was growing vegetables and selling them to a small CSA and to a couple of restaurants around Charleston. We raised chickens, rabbits, and hogs, just for ourselves. Part of the impetus behind that was to grow as much of our own food as we could. I hadn’t been eating meat for many years because I don’t want to support factory farming. Part of that includes taking them to the slaughterhouse. We decided if we could raise a couple of our own hogs and process them ourselves we would feel good about that meat. Once we had the first hog butchered I wanted to have a gathering of people from the community that bought vegetables from me. In the spring of 2012, we invited everyone we knew and said bring a chair, friends and a dish. We collected some sea water from the bay to brine the hog with, for ten hours. We had some sea water left over. We thought well, why don’t we try to boil this water, and season the hog as it cooks. So we boiled about 5 gallons of water, and got salt. We smoked the hog for about 12 hours. The smoke made its way into the salt, so we took that smoked salt and put it on the table. People were taking spoonfuls of it and asking if they could take some home, and if we would make more and sell it. We thought, that was kind of easy. We should try it again.”

That was the beginning of Bulls Bay Saltworks. [To learn more, read here.]

Business at Bulls Bay is brisk. They sold out of their inventory over Christmas, so they are not encouraging sales right now. However, the business is expanding and very soon they will have plenty of product.

She is a friend of my buddy Jon Jackson at Comfort Farms. “Jon and I met at a boucherie in Wadmalaw last October.” [As you may know, I've written about Comfort Farms. Now I am making a documentary about Comfort Farms .]

Great food, grown and harvested responsibly, is important to Teresa.

It was delightful to talk to Teresa and learn more about her and about her unique business.

 

What is your full name? Teresa Smithmyer [she just got divorced but her ex is still a part owner of the business]

Where would you live, if you could live anywhere in the world? I’m pretty happy here. I love the southeastern United States. I’ve travelled to every state except Hawaii. The last time I was looking to move, I missed the culture and the heat from this region. Charleston really stuck out in my mind from travelling here years before. I was looking at places close to a city but not one in one, and also as close to the coast as possible. I actually live in McClellanville, which is about 36 miles from downtown. It’s perfect because I can pop into the city really easily any time, but retreat back into country life.

What is your favorite movie and why? I don’t have a TV. I don’t watch a ton of movies. My current favorite is a documentary called The Eagle Huntress. I thought it was wonderful.

What was your least-favorite subject in school when you were a kid? Math.

What was your nickname when you were a kid? My brothers and sisters call me Tee.

Do you believe in God? I don’t believe in a Christian God but I do believe in a higher power.

What sound or noise do you love? I love the sound of the ocean waves crashing. That’s kind of my favorite place, when you need to decompress. That’s where I go to reset. Although I live two miles from the water it is all barrier islands so the closest beach for me is Isle of Palms.

If you could do anything other than what you do, as a profession, what would it be?  I would probably be a travel writer.

If heaven exists, what do you think it is like? I don’t believe in heaven or hell, but I do believe that our energy goes somewhere collectively.

Do you have siblings? I have 5 sisters and 2 brothers. One of my sisters was adopted from South Korea.

What is your favorite memory of childhood [something specific]? Going to my uncle’s farm in Pennsylvania every summer and spending time with my cousins – taking care of the farm animals and milking the cows and exercising the pigs…for 4H shows

If you had to choose between one week traveling around the USA by car, or one week traveling around Europe on a train, which would you choose and why? I would travel around Europe on a train because that’s not something I’ve done before. I’ve traveled across country in a car more than eight times.

What inspires you? Other people’s passions inspire me, I think. At this age in my life (42) it’s fascinating to me to talk to other people who are really passionate about what they do and to be able to have deep connections around those conversations.

Which holiday do you prefer, Christmas or July 4th? I would say I don’t like the commercialization of Christmas but I would choose Christmas because it’s such a time of wonderful family gatherings.

What project or idea are you most passionate about, right now? I’m consumed with this expansion of the business right now and I wish I had time to pursue small pleasures. That sounds terrible but true. Sometimes you just have to double time it to get on to the next stage. This has been a project for 8 months. We just bought an acre next door and the business is expanding.

Do you know how to cook? I love to cook. I’m okay at it.

What is your favorite thing to cook/eat? I love to cook Asian dishes, particularly Thai or Vietnamese.

If you could go on vacation anywhere in the world, for 2-4 weeks, all expenses paid, where would you go and why? I would go to Papua New Guinea because I was born there, and I’ve never been there as an adult. If all expenses were paid I could have a really good travel guide which is kind of necessary in that region. My parents went as part of a Catholic mission. My Dad worked as a teacher and Mom was a nurse. They lived there a little over 5 years and one of my brothers was also born there. My parents moved there with a 4 and a 5 year old.

What question has nobody ever asked you, but you wanted to answer? Do you want to run away with me? I just think that that’s a dreamy romantic thing..

Singing Around the House

I was grown before I realized that not all grown men burst into song at random moments while at home. My father and his brothers did, all the time. I never thought about it. I assumed, also, that when doing an a cappella version of any song that if you don't know the words it's perfectly acceptable to just make up your own words. 

My earliest memory is Dad singing "Go to sleepy little baby" which I assumed he had made up. When the movie O Brother Where Art Thou? came out I was startled to hear the sirens sing that song at the creek, in a very seductive way -- and there were MORE LYRICS than just "go to sleepy little baby"! Who knew? I was totally startled. The fact that the other lyrics are, well, a bit sinister may explain why dad didn't go there. For example "everybody's gone in the cotton and the corn didn't leave nobody but the baby." If you want to hear the song go here.

Some of my earliest memories are of Dad singing: Another Saturday Night (Sam Cooke), Kaw-liga (Hank Williams Sr.), Jambalaya  (Hank Williams Sr.) On a Saturday when Dad was working around the house Herb Alpert was often on the turntable.

I asked Dad once if he liked Elvis and he looked disgusted. "NO," was his disgusted response. I later talked to Mom about it and she said Dad liked Frank Sinatra's style of music, not rock & roll.

My mother liked to play the piano and sing and we would often gather around the piano and sing with her. Dad had a fine, lovely baritone although completely untrained. He could carry a tune, though, very well. He loved show tunes like Edelweiss (Sound of Music) and It Takes A Woman (Hello Dolly).

When we moved to Knoxville, Dad embraced country music. The bank where he worked usually got tickets to the country music performers who performed at the civic coliseum. My brother and I didn't care much for country music and usually fussed about being taken to those shows, although we saw some great acts -- Loretta Lynn and The Statler Brothers, for example. We were too young and ignorant to appreciate those concerts, I hate to say. 

In the 1970's Dad was proud to be An Okie From Muscogee. He also liked to drink beer and walk around at the lake singing "Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine." When Dad died some of the neighbors sent us a card saying "Some of our happiest memories are hearing Tony sing Jose Cuervo at the lake." Dad made up his own lyrics to that one.

When I was in college I spent a weekend with my aunt Diddy and uncle Bobby [Thompson] at their home, which was always enjoyable. Bobby sang Were You There, the entire weekend. Such a sad song, but he wasn't in a bad mood.

I never heard Dad's other brother sing [Lewis] anything that I can recall, but I know he loved music and sang. I imagine with Dad around he didn't have the opportunity to do much singing because he and Dad were always talking and visiting when together.

I realized last night when I was fixing supper that I do it too -- randomly sing around the house. It happens more around Christmas time, but I sing at other times, too. Mom sings too -- sometimes to Lola. Sometimes we sing together. Memaw could play the piano and Papa loved music and when he was young he could play a country fiddle.

Papa's mother's people, the MacMillans, played and sang well. Mom said on Sunday afternoons they would get together and harmonize, for fun, and were well-known in the community for being singers.

 

I watched a documentary about Elvis the other night on HBO and it was like watching home movies of a relative I'd not seen in ages. My memaw used to listen to Elvis singing gospel music all the time, and he had a lovely voice. (Elvis and Nat King Cole ruled Memaw's stereo.) I also watched the 4:00 movie every afternoon as a kid and saw all the Elvis movies. Not until I was a teenager did I chance to hear his classics like "Heartbreak Hotel" and "Hound Dog." 

I am blessed to have been surrounded all my life by music. I saw a quote once that said something like "music is what feelings sound like." So true.

In the Spotlight

I enjoyed reading Frank Bruni's piece in the New York Times about Jenna and Barbara Bush, the twin daughters of former President Bush. They have written a joint memoir which was published last fall, Sisters First: Stories from our Wild and Wonderful Life. (Since there are two of them, shouldn't the title be "Wonderful LIVES"? -- my inner grammar nerd cannot be silenced).

I have not read the book, but it looks like a loving tribute to their parents, and as the Amazon page reports:

"In SISTERS FIRST, Jenna and Barbara take readers on a revealing, thoughtful, and deeply personal tour behind the scenes of their lives, as they share stories about their family, their unexpected adventures, their loves and losses, and the sisterly bond that means everything to them."

I would like to read the book one day but I will get it at the library.

One thing that intrigues me about the book is that these two are famous only because of their family, not because of their own accomplishments. I see Jenna all the time on the Today Show but she doesn't seem to me to have any outstanding journalistic talent. Why did she get that job instead of somebody else? Hmmm.... her NAME, probably. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Jenna. I usually enjoy her stories, and she seems like a genuine, nice person. I just wonder about her qualifications to ascend the journalistic ladder so quickly. 

Then again, I probably shouldn't point fingers. I got my first paralegal job because Dad was friends with the attorneys and his bank gave the firm business. However, before my first day at the firm he sat me down and said sternly, "I got you the job, but it's up to you to keep it. I expect you to work hard, be nice, and do what you're told. Never say that's not my job - if they are paying you, it's your job. Remember your manners. Don't embarrass me. Oh, and I told your boss if you don't do a good job to FIRE YOU -- I wouldn't hold it against him." I remember thinking WOW, thanks a lot. I worked my butt off in that job, and stayed three years, and although there were certainly some negatives, the experience made it possible for me to get other paralegal jobs. 

I do remember feeling great relief when I moved here to Atlanta because nobody in the legal community even knew my father, much less owed him any favors.

I kind of understand and sympathize with the Bush sisters.

I imagine the Bush twins wrote the book to try to present their family as human, not godlike creatures or privileged elitists. The tributes and outpourings of fondness which have recently marked the passing of their grandmother Barbara might make up for, in some small way, the negative things about living in the public eye. Or not. 

When you are the child and grandchild of presidents you learn to be careful about what you say and do, and the sisters have been schooled well, obviously. Bruni criticizes them for being circumspect about political opinions but I admire their poise. They aren't running for office. They don't have to explain themselves when he fires questions at them.

My dad was a little bit famous in his own way. 

Most everyone in the business communities in Knoxville -- particularly lawyers and bankers -- knew Dad, or had heard of him, in the 1970's thru the 1990's. He had bucketloads of charisma and charm. People who met him typically either liked him (98%) or loathed him (2%). Most liked him. (There were over 300 people in the church at his memorial service.)

I remember walking down the street with him countless times and he would always spot someone he knew and greet them, or be greeted by them -- whether it was downtown Knoxville, downtown Augusta, the mall, the gas station -- and it was tiresome, sometimes. Everyone was a friend of his, or so they thought. 

I once met a man in Knoxville, a local politician, who was on the board of some organization with Dad and he made it clear he despised Dad. I told him after he said that, that I was the daughter of Tony Thompson and he laughed with embarrassment. I couldn't wait to get back to the office and tell Dad, who laughed. "He doesn't like me because I always vote against him in meetings. He likes to spend too much money." Dad was never afraid to take an unpopular stand because he always valued doing the right thing over doing the most expedient thing.

I have never had to hear a lot of unfair criticism leveled at my dad, like the Bush girls have, obviously. That one incident rankled a lot, though. Take that and magnify it a million times and that's a bit of what those girls have had to deal with almost their whole lives. 

My grandfather Bob Hasty was a major league baseball player for five years and then played minor league ball for years afterwards, and was well-known around Atlanta. Mom remembers being so annoyed when they would be in public and people would bug him for an autograph, or just want to chat. Mom resented them pulling him away from her, and rightly so. [In the above photo, he is on the middle row, third player from the left.]

He never courted fame, but he didn't shy away from it either.

My grandfather would be horrified by the behavior of today's sports stars, who routinely get arrested, use drugs, get women pregnant and don't marry them, gamble, and on and on. Papa felt like sports stars should always be gentlemen, and always behave themselves. They are role models for kids. Obviously that's an old-fashioned view. I sure wish it was still followed, though.

Fame is never easy to deal with, whether it's yours or you're caught in the fame-light of someone you love. I can remember meeting people in the business community and feeling really self-conscious because Dad was so handsome and I'm... not. I always winced at the unspoken comparisons. It wasn't always easy to be his child. 

It hasn't always been easy to be the grandchild of a sports star, either. I've had to defend him against some unfair accusations over the years. Also, I have a deformed shoulder and I can't throw a baseball to save my life. I'm not tall and movie-star attractive, either. To make it a bit more uncomfortable, I am the daughter of a drop-dead gorgeous mother, and I don't look much like her.

It isn't easy to be the child of two really attractive people, and deal with scrutiny and sometimes pity. 

I have watched members of the Bush family in interviews on television the past few days and I have to extend kudos to them, for how they have handled the attention surrounding Barbara Bush's death. Poise and grace don't begin to cover it. 

I should mention that I am not a Republican and no huge Bush fan. I certainly didn't agree with all of the political views of either of the Bush presidents, but then again I never agree 100% with ANY politician, from either party.

I guess in summary I'd like to just say, living in a spotlight is far more difficult than most people realize. You have to not let all the negative things, the comparisons, the potshots taken, etc. get to you. You also have to carve out your own niche in life, and be happy in your own skin -- which is not always easy to do. I have a tiny bit of an inkling of what it's like to be part of a family members' fame.

Anyone in the public eye deserves the same basic respect as the rest of us -- including not having their families pounced on unfairly. 

Just some observations.. 

Teaching Thoughtfulness and Consideration

As so often happens on Sundays, when life has slowed down a bit, I ponder how I can live my life in a better, more productive and fulfilling way. There's the outer life, which is always busy, and the inner life, which is often neglected if the outer life is really busy. 

In other words, most people I know who have really busy lives miss out on opportunities to think about ways to make their relationships stronger. 

I will give an example from my own life. 

My dad was a super busy guy, but he taught me valuable lessons about relationships.

My father grew up with two brothers and what he knew about being a kid involved very masculine pursuits like hunting, fishing, playing Army, etc. So when he had a daughter (me) he wasn't quite sure how to manage me. With Bruce, he took him hunting, from an early age. For me, as a small child, he just included me with whatever he was doing -- yard work, fishing, etc. I didn't get to go hunting -- which really ticked me off. I was jealous because during hunting season Bruce got to go off with Dad for entire days. I was supposed to do "ladylike" things with Mom. I loved my Mom, but I saw her all the time. Dad worked all the time, so being with him was much more of a privilege.

When I was around 14, Bruce started being very busy, working and school and hanging out with his friends. Then he left for basic training in the Army, and then college. During this time, Dad searched for some way to connect with me, and movies became our activity. We usually saw movies he wanted to see (MacArthur, for example) but sometimes I dragged him to movies I wanted to see (Kramer vs. Kramer, for example) which he hated. We often saw movies we both liked, though. 

I didn't realize until many years later that the most valuable part of those moviegoing excursions was talking in the car. I rode the bus to school, or drove my own (old) car starting my junior year. The car rides to the theater were Dad's time to chat with me. Sitting still was hard for him, but of course in a moving car he was driving, and I could have nearly his full attention, which was a luxury. 

Dad would sometimes point out my character flaws to me during those car rides -- but not always, or I wouldn't have wanted to go, of course. I heard him say many times, sighing, "You're just like me." True. We had very similar temperaments -- quick-witted, energetic, smart, funny. Probably the one thing he ever said that I've never forgotten was "Your mouth will always get you in trouble." Unfortunately, true. I have often said things that have gotten me in some hot water. 

However, I want to point out that as I've gotten older I've become much better at not saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. (Thanks be to God.)

Relationships have to be nurtured. People have to have consideration for the feelings of others. 

Dad knew I hated him not spending time with me, and he stepped outside his comfort zone a bit and challenged himself to find a way to connect with me. As a result, we had a much stronger bond than many fathers and daughters.

I also learned a lot of valuable lessons on those car rides.

I have a friend who is a single dad, and he has ADHD and his son has it. We were chatting about how important it is to be thoughtful, to be considerate of others' feelings. That can be a big challenge when one is impulsive.

If you've never sat at home waiting for someone to show up, wondering where they are, you can't understand what it's like. 

I was waiting all day yesterday for Michael to come home from a friend's house, and he didn't come. I know where he is. He's safe. He's fine. It's just inconsiderate of him to not realize I worry, and he needs to come home every 24 hours or so. He should know better. As a small child his birthmom often left him alone for days at a time -- and he had no idea where she was or when she would return. So he should understand how frustrating it feels for me to be waiting and waiting for him to return. 

Yet, he is doing to me exactly what his birthmom did to him. He learned that behavior from her. 

However, my dilemma is this: how do I get him to respect my feelings? 

I understand his viewpoint -- he's 21 years old. He should be able to do what he wants. 

However, he lives with me and his grandmother. Our feelings should be important to him. He loves us and is generally a sweet, good-natured guy. I constantly remind myself not to try and "mama" him too much. I make a huge effort to try and respect his feelings, but we have a ways to go before he shows me the same consideration..

When my parents got married my dad was in the habit of doing exactly what he wanted. He would go off and not tell Mom where he was going, or when he would return. It became a huge issue. They talked to a counselor about it. The counselor pointed out the fix was simple -- "Tell Elva where you're going and when you expect to be back," the counselor said. "Try to think about how she feels, wondering where you are, and worrying," he noted. Dad eventually learned the lesson. 

In today's fast-paced culture and "me me me" mentality, how do you teach someone to be mindful of others' feelings? I don't know. I imagine there are marriages that end because one person wants their "freedom" more than they want the marriage. 

I have friends and family members who will not ever marry because it would mean compromise and not always doing what they want, and they are unwilling to do that. It makes me sad.  

How do you literally "put yourself in the other person's shoes"? It has to be learned, or all of one's relationships may be in peril. Dad put himself in my shoes and took action, and it worked out. He had learned consideration from his marriage counseling, though.

I don't know how to teach consideration of others' feelings. As a writer, I wonder if there is a story or book that would illustrate this.

Food for thought.

If you have any ideas, drop me a comment. 

OTHER NEWS

I spent a lot of time gardening and planting yesterday..

If you are wrestling with a knotty problem, working with your hands is good therapy...

Eleven Years Ago

April 3, 2007 was a magical day in my life. It was a Tuesday, like today. I was in Kazakhstan. There was snow everywhere, and the streets were a mess. I had been in Kazakhstan since early March, going to the orphanage every day. 

Michael had also been able to come see me and visit with me in the hotel a few times. He grinned all the time. Even when the translator/driver was not able to stay with us, we communicated easily.

On April 3, 2007, he officially became my son -- although he had felt like my son from the first moment I had seen him, in late 2005, in a photo on the adoption agency's website.

The weeks I had spent in Kazakhstan had felt surreal. However, I was very blessed. I had the chance to get to know Michael very well and spent time with him every day. I also was surrounded by other Americans staying at my hotel who were also adopting children. (see photo below) We all were visiting our kids in the orphanages, but we often ate dinner together and usually several of us ate breakfast at the same time. Being around fellow adoptive parents going through the same experiences was very comforting. I had already adopted once, bringing home my daughter from Russia in 2005, so I was considered a veteran.

below, fellow parents -- right, the blue building is the courthouse in Petropavlovsk

Every year on April 3rd I recall that time in my life in 2007 when I had my last big adventure, living in a foreign country for a few weeks and adopting my son. The moment when the judge granted the adoption and I was finally able to enfold Michael in my arms and say (in Russian) "I am your mama!" was the best moment of my life, one I will cherish forever. 

The amazing thing is that as soon as Michael was home, he fit right into our family like he had always been there. Mom and Alesia and I just enfolded him in, and he was ours, without a doubt. 

Michael is now 21. He is re-learning his Russian and he has not forgotten that part of his heritage, although he is thoroughly American in most ways.

April 3rd also happens to be the day in 1923 when my grandparents got married -- a good sign, I thought, when I learned of the coincidence from my mother. Michael is much like the Hastys, despite the lack of a biological connection. He is thoughtful and deliberate, and very smart. I have often thought that my grandparents would have adored him. I think they are around, in spirit.