In recent years organic farming has grown in popularity – supported not least by Prince Charles, The Prince of Wales who is renowned around the world for his stance on the subject. But organic farms and organic farming communities have long promoted the health and environmental benefits of harnessing the earth’s natural goodness, through rejecting the use of artificial chemicals.
One remarkable example is Fordhall Farm. This Community Land Initiative is an industrial and Provident Society with charitable status. It is currently owned by 7500 shareholders from across the UK and indeed around the world who have pooled together to save it from extinction.
The Hollins family have farmed the land for generations but only ever as tenants so when it came under threat in 2001 from a neighbouring enterprise, they placed it into community ownership. This society now owns all of Fordhall Farm but Charlotte and Ben Hollins, at 24 and 22 years of age respectively, are now tenants of the Fordhall Community Land Initiative.
They live in the farm house and manage the farm land and livestock. They also run a farm shop as a commercial business. See www.fordhallfarm.com for full details.
The Fordhall Community Land Initiative and its 7500 shareholders seek to develop Fordhall as an educational resource. Making the most of its organic heritage and wildlife attributes. Their aim is to use Fordhall to re-connect people to food, the environment and most importantly to farming.
There is still a lot of work to be done, but they hope that eventually a Bunk House, Local/organic food tea rooms, and an educational resource room will be built. And in keeping with the premise of the Initiative they state that these will be built from sustainable and recycled materials where possible, and of course using renewable energy. All funds from future shares sold will be used to carry out this work.
Fordhall Farm's organic origins:
"Man must not control nature, that only leads to failure; he must work alongside it and nurture it" Arthur Hollins (1915 - 2005).
Arthur Hollins was just 14 years old when he took over the tenancy of Fordhall after his father passed away. The intensive food production of the war effort meant the land left to Arthur largely consisted of fallow and malnourished soil, but the new farmer soon observed the rich growth in the woodlands And grew to understand that if left to heal herself ‘Mother Earth’ would correct man-made errors. Shortly after the Second World War he vowed never to put chemical fertilisers on the land at Fordhall again.
He let the grassland fields regain their pre-war goodness, and built up a herd of dairy cows and a yoghurt enterprise managed with his first wife, May.
They were amongst the first in the country to make LIVE yoghurt and many famous London and Edinburgh stores soon sought their produce.
A lot of people said Arthur’s ideas were outrageous but he knew his natural approach was the only route to sustainable farming and sustainability is what underpins the
Fordhall Community Land Initiative today.
Sadly Arthur Hollins died in 2005 at the age of 89 but Charlotte and Ben Hollins now have a 100 year lease at the farm and with them at the helm, Ford hall’s heritage and its goal to promote the benefits of organic farming is in safe hands.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Touching Base with Bernie Ross
Life, in the last few months, has been strangely challenging. So up and down that I haven’t felt much like writing, which is greatly unusual for me. Each trauma has been compensated with a small step forward and the ultimate focus is now in sight. I used my skill with words (I hope) to extract a decision from my husband’s employers and he has now rightly been retired early on grounds of ill-health; but he’s still fit and able to walk miles. He simply can’t sit at a desk in an open plan office.
On 29th March we move to Scotland to begin a new life. This is where we hope to stay at first:
The lease is not signed and settled yet so we mustn’t count our chickens before they’re hatched. We’ll be starting afresh with just the cream of the cream - our favourite possessions only, our chosen pastimes, and keeping in touch with our chosen friends. There’ll be plenty of room for new adventures and fellowships too, new projects, inspiration, and creative work. I’ll keep my hand in on creative writing: I haven’t deserted you, my students; just give me time.
When I’m confident of email contact in our new location I’ll let you know so that in the feint hope you’ve done an assignment you’ll entrust it to me. I don’t intend to leave dedicated students with an unfinished course.
So trust me when I say that all the jigsaw pieces are falling into place. When I’ve got a proper Internet connection I shall probably contribute here more. Meanwhile the best thing you can do for me and for your writing life is to help Pete by submitting short pieces, commenting on Playground itself, and especially commenting to Pete personally so that he can grow with being an editor.
Bernie Ross ~ March 2007
~ ~
“Cheep, cheep!” went the baby birds.
I bought them in a pet shop.
Mum saw my sad face as I blocked my ears,
pointed to the cage and said, “They’re never nightingales to keep?”
But the sign said they were ‘Nightingales – going CHEAP!’
Thus we learn.
~ ~
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Sitting In My Garden Chair by Chris Barnes
Sitting in my garden chair
Birds are swooping everywhere,
Swallows soaring in the sky,
Garden birds are not shy.
Blackbirds, Wren and Thrush,
Babies in their nest they rush.
Food in beak, in they go,
Babies feeding are not slow.
Down they go onto the ground,
Grubs, insects and worms are found.
Up they sweep, food in beak,
Listen to the babies cheep.
All are fed and happy now,
Back to sleep the babies go.
The feeding frenzy over now,
It’s good to stop and stare,
Sitting in my garden chair.
Birds are swooping everywhere,
Swallows soaring in the sky,
Garden birds are not shy.
Blackbirds, Wren and Thrush,
Babies in their nest they rush.
Food in beak, in they go,
Babies feeding are not slow.
Down they go onto the ground,
Grubs, insects and worms are found.
Up they sweep, food in beak,
Listen to the babies cheep.
All are fed and happy now,
Back to sleep the babies go.
The feeding frenzy over now,
It’s good to stop and stare,
Sitting in my garden chair.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Volvo Aero by Geryll Alsen
Volvo Aero – the almost unknown Volvo company 
“So you work for Volvo! How nice! Great cars, have one myself actually.”
“I agree, Volvo makes great cars but I work for Volvo Aero where we make aircraft engine components, not cars.”
“Oh, I’ve never heard of Volvo Aero. You know when people say Volvo I always think of the car.”
The above is a typical conversation when I meet someone who is not familiar with the company I work for. Most people have however indirectly been in touch with our products – at least if they’ve been on an airplane.
Volvo Aero is a major supplier of aircraft engine components and we work together with all the big aircraft engine manufacturers in the world, such as Rolls-Royce, General Electric, Pratt & Whitney, Snecma and MTU.
Our components are found on more than 80 percent of all engines supplied worldwide on new aircraft carrying 100 passengers or more. On certain engine types we also perform overhauls and repairs so that they can continue to fly for many more hours.
We don’t just make components for aircraft though; Volvo Aero is also the world’s largest commercial supplier of rocket combustion chambers and exhaust nozzles. We develop and produce engine components for the European Ariane rockets – the world’s market leader in commercial launchers.
When I joined the company in 1979, it was a company with mainly military products. Over the years, the company has transformed and the military part is only about 10 percent today. The military technology and development has however formed the base for our commercial activities and we would not have been so successful without it.
Volvo Aero is an interesting company to work for, and my job in Corporate Communications is highly unpredictable, which I like a lot. One thing I do every day though is to check the company mailbox where people ask all kinds of questions about aerospace and a wide variety of other things. Some people are just Volvo fans and ask for giveaways. A man from Germany once asked for a sticker he could put on his brand new Volvo car. I sent him a Volvo Aero sticker, explaining that we didn’t have any car stickers. Two weeks later I received a large parcel with two bottles of wine - a gift from the German Volvo driver.
The job has its advantages!
“So you work for Volvo! How nice! Great cars, have one myself actually.”
“I agree, Volvo makes great cars but I work for Volvo Aero where we make aircraft engine components, not cars.”
“Oh, I’ve never heard of Volvo Aero. You know when people say Volvo I always think of the car.”
The above is a typical conversation when I meet someone who is not familiar with the company I work for. Most people have however indirectly been in touch with our products – at least if they’ve been on an airplane.
Volvo Aero is a major supplier of aircraft engine components and we work together with all the big aircraft engine manufacturers in the world, such as Rolls-Royce, General Electric, Pratt & Whitney, Snecma and MTU.
Our components are found on more than 80 percent of all engines supplied worldwide on new aircraft carrying 100 passengers or more. On certain engine types we also perform overhauls and repairs so that they can continue to fly for many more hours.
We don’t just make components for aircraft though; Volvo Aero is also the world’s largest commercial supplier of rocket combustion chambers and exhaust nozzles. We develop and produce engine components for the European Ariane rockets – the world’s market leader in commercial launchers.
When I joined the company in 1979, it was a company with mainly military products. Over the years, the company has transformed and the military part is only about 10 percent today. The military technology and development has however formed the base for our commercial activities and we would not have been so successful without it.
Volvo Aero is an interesting company to work for, and my job in Corporate Communications is highly unpredictable, which I like a lot. One thing I do every day though is to check the company mailbox where people ask all kinds of questions about aerospace and a wide variety of other things. Some people are just Volvo fans and ask for giveaways. A man from Germany once asked for a sticker he could put on his brand new Volvo car. I sent him a Volvo Aero sticker, explaining that we didn’t have any car stickers. Two weeks later I received a large parcel with two bottles of wine - a gift from the German Volvo driver.
The job has its advantages!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Welcome to 2007
Happy New Year to everyone and a special welcome to all the DIY Nutshell students who bought the 'Teach Yourself' version of the course. I hope it proves inspiring and helpful and that you will 'meet' a few likeminded people here. The sky's the limit as far as sharing work and email addresses etc is concerned.
Sadly I'm very preoccupied at the moment but I do find time to write - I MAKE time - and here's a little ditty I've just dashed off when I should be preparing to go out!
The Strength of a Spider’s Web
I’m reminded again of the power of fiction every time I see a spider.
As recently as this past summer I would kill a spider on sight because I’m afraid of them and I know how rapidly they breed. I couldn’t bear to think that ‘one today’ could mean a few hundred tomorrow so I’d squash it; such was my horror at the creatures.
But not any more.
A simple turnaround – not complete, I’m still afraid of them – occurred after reading Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. I came across it at my son’s house in November and I read it over the weekend while we stayed there. Never again can I think so badly of spiders, I can leave them quietly in the corner harming no-one.
Charlotte’s Web is a children’s story, published way back in the 1950s. I should’ve been given a copy as a child, it would’ve saved many a hiatus over the years and I might not have passed on my phobia to my own kids.
© Bernie Ross 2007
Sadly I'm very preoccupied at the moment but I do find time to write - I MAKE time - and here's a little ditty I've just dashed off when I should be preparing to go out!
The Strength of a Spider’s Web
I’m reminded again of the power of fiction every time I see a spider.
As recently as this past summer I would kill a spider on sight because I’m afraid of them and I know how rapidly they breed. I couldn’t bear to think that ‘one today’ could mean a few hundred tomorrow so I’d squash it; such was my horror at the creatures.
But not any more.
A simple turnaround – not complete, I’m still afraid of them – occurred after reading Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. I came across it at my son’s house in November and I read it over the weekend while we stayed there. Never again can I think so badly of spiders, I can leave them quietly in the corner harming no-one.
Charlotte’s Web is a children’s story, published way back in the 1950s. I should’ve been given a copy as a child, it would’ve saved many a hiatus over the years and I might not have passed on my phobia to my own kids.
© Bernie Ross 2007
Thursday, November 02, 2006
A Night To Remember by Lynda E Blake
"This sounds interesting Mum, would you like to go?"
"What's that love?" asked Sue's mum glancing up from the vegetables she was peeling.
"It's a talk by Janice Armstrong, a crime writer. I haven't read any of her books but it could be interesting. The newsletter here says the talk is part of the celebrations for Agatha Christie Week."
Frowning Sue's mum sighed. She wasn't much of a reader herself and had even said that she thought it was a waste of time. But Sue knew her mum's weaknesses and was quick to emphasise the crime aspect of the talk. "You like to watch crime shows on the television, don't you? Perhaps she'll talk about those too. You might be surprised."
Reluctantly she agreed to go and a few days later they were in the taxi heading for a library in a nearby city.… They'd hoped to get there early and get a good seat but when they reached the room they were shocked to see there was only one empty chair. Sue had to use a wheelchair these days, and found this embarrassing because it was as if it was a barrier that came between her and other, more active people, whom she found often excluded her from their conversations. But on this occasion she was glad she'd brought her own seat!
The guest author began to speak, but her voice was almost drowned out by a noisy fan which had been positioned directly opposite from where Sue and her mum sat. Janice Armstrong herself commented upon the noisiness of the fan, but no-one made any attempt to change its speed or direction. Neither Sue nor her mum had brought a coat, so in the end Sue's mum got to her feet and turned off the fan altogether. There was an audible gasp from the audience when she did this, but most people had by now wrapped their coats around their shoulders, so perhaps they longed to do what Sue's mum had had the courage to do?
The room fell quiet and everyone settled back to enjoy the rest of the evening, but as they did so one of the organisers stepped forward and thanked Janice Armstrong for her enlightening talk. Thus bringing the proceedings to an abrupt end. Janice Armstrong looked at her watch then down to her so far unused notes lying on the small table at her elbow. "Is it really that time?" She sounded bewildered and her face betrayed the fact that she really hadn't expected anyone to ask her to stop speaking so soon.
Sue couldn't understand it either because the evening seemed to be going so well. Janice Armstrong was clearly relishing the opportunity to share her love of writing with people who had a mutual interest in her craft.
A few people in the audience looked at each other as they slowly rose, but the woman who had sat beside Sue walked silently from the room without so much as a backward glance. No one seemed able to comprehend what had happened.
Sue and her mum didn't know what to do. A man with rather long hair came towards them, "Can I help?" he asked.
"We have to wait for our taxi," explained Sue's mum quietly. The man muttered something and then went back to join Janice Armstrong who was still packing away her belongings.
"What time is it?" asked Sue's mum apprehensively. Sue looked at her watch and told her it was exactly 8pm. They had precisely one hour to wait before James came back to collect them…
If only they had a mobile phone but Sue knew she wouldn't get one because like much of today's technology, they scared her. She was convinced she'd do something terribly wrong and break it.
But as Sue's mum reminded her, James their taxi driver could be miles away. Perhaps on another job? Even if he could collect them straight away it'd be a while before he could reach them. This was turning into a disaster…
Before long another man came towards them and asked if he could help. This man turned out to be a librarian and he led them back into the library itself. They explained the situation and he said they could wait at the desk - and even offered to call James from the phone used by the librarians. Sue told him the number and he picked up the phone and dialled expectantly, but his face changed when James told him he couldn't possibly get there before the time they'd arranged.
Putting the phone down the librarian turned to Sue and asked if there was another taxi they could use? "No," replied Sue's mum. "We know James and he knows us. He knows just what Sue needs and how to help her."
"Oh, I see." Mumbled the librarian.
For a few minutes the librarian and three of his colleagues who had been busying themselves amongst the bookshelves disappeared into a room not accessible to the public. Shortly afterwards five members of staff re-emerged but two of them quickly left the building while the remaining three stayed behind. It must have been decided that they would make sure Sue and her mum didn't wreck the place!
The three librarians who stayed behind were all friendly, and each one in turn chatted with Sue and her mum but the wait seemed to go on forever and it soon became apparent that everyone was getting restless. The librarians went off to re-arrange the books and DVDs. Sue could hear them talking about films they'd seen and longed to join in with their discussion but she rarely watched films. Her vision made it hard for her to recognise unfamiliar characters and often she'd find it hard to keep track of what was going on.
Looking around at the many shelves of books she longed to read too. But even that pleasure was denied her these days - unless she enlisted the help of modern technology, how ironic that the aspect of life which caused her so much angst also enabled her to enjoy such a basic pleasure.
Gazing at the crowded shelves she realised what a small fraction of this wealth of information she'd read. She doubted she'd ever get to access it either which made her sad. For a moment this seemed to put her whole experience of life in a nutshell. There were so many things she'd never know…
All of a sudden her thoughts were dragged back to the problem of the moment though when the first librarian approached them again and suggested they go downstairs. Was he going to throw them out into the street?
Putting a hand on the back of Sue's wheelchair he spoke wearily. "We've had to lock the doors, but you'll be able to see when your taxi driver arrives and then you can give us a shout to come and unlock the door…"
It was pointless arguing, so minutes later they found themselves abandoned in the small glass foyer which looked out onto the street. Sue was starting to feel anxious and didn't like being on show like this. She looked at her watch again. 8.40. "Let's hope he's not delayed," she said hesitantly.
It was dark outside now but only a few people were walking around. The library was close to the city centre, but it was still quite early and perhaps fewer people went out on Tuesday nights? Sue was glad it wasn't a busy night at the weekend with lots of young people milling around.
Fortunately their agony wasn't prolonged though and they both sighed with relief when James' face appeared at the window. But of course they still had to get out and somehow had to let the librarian know. They glanced towards the steep staircase, but there was no sign of anyone and they hadn't asked the librarian's name.
Sue's mum moved towards the stairs and Sue thought she was going to go and find someone, but to her amazement her mum instead shouted out the name "John!"
They never found out if this was a lucky shot, or if the librarian just heard a noise and came running to investigate, but it achieved the desired effect!
On the way home Sue thought over what had happened. Yes, it had been a memorable evening, but not for the reasons they'd expected.
The End
"What's that love?" asked Sue's mum glancing up from the vegetables she was peeling.
"It's a talk by Janice Armstrong, a crime writer. I haven't read any of her books but it could be interesting. The newsletter here says the talk is part of the celebrations for Agatha Christie Week."
Frowning Sue's mum sighed. She wasn't much of a reader herself and had even said that she thought it was a waste of time. But Sue knew her mum's weaknesses and was quick to emphasise the crime aspect of the talk. "You like to watch crime shows on the television, don't you? Perhaps she'll talk about those too. You might be surprised."
Reluctantly she agreed to go and a few days later they were in the taxi heading for a library in a nearby city.… They'd hoped to get there early and get a good seat but when they reached the room they were shocked to see there was only one empty chair. Sue had to use a wheelchair these days, and found this embarrassing because it was as if it was a barrier that came between her and other, more active people, whom she found often excluded her from their conversations. But on this occasion she was glad she'd brought her own seat!
The guest author began to speak, but her voice was almost drowned out by a noisy fan which had been positioned directly opposite from where Sue and her mum sat. Janice Armstrong herself commented upon the noisiness of the fan, but no-one made any attempt to change its speed or direction. Neither Sue nor her mum had brought a coat, so in the end Sue's mum got to her feet and turned off the fan altogether. There was an audible gasp from the audience when she did this, but most people had by now wrapped their coats around their shoulders, so perhaps they longed to do what Sue's mum had had the courage to do?
The room fell quiet and everyone settled back to enjoy the rest of the evening, but as they did so one of the organisers stepped forward and thanked Janice Armstrong for her enlightening talk. Thus bringing the proceedings to an abrupt end. Janice Armstrong looked at her watch then down to her so far unused notes lying on the small table at her elbow. "Is it really that time?" She sounded bewildered and her face betrayed the fact that she really hadn't expected anyone to ask her to stop speaking so soon.
Sue couldn't understand it either because the evening seemed to be going so well. Janice Armstrong was clearly relishing the opportunity to share her love of writing with people who had a mutual interest in her craft.
A few people in the audience looked at each other as they slowly rose, but the woman who had sat beside Sue walked silently from the room without so much as a backward glance. No one seemed able to comprehend what had happened.
Sue and her mum didn't know what to do. A man with rather long hair came towards them, "Can I help?" he asked.
"We have to wait for our taxi," explained Sue's mum quietly. The man muttered something and then went back to join Janice Armstrong who was still packing away her belongings.
"What time is it?" asked Sue's mum apprehensively. Sue looked at her watch and told her it was exactly 8pm. They had precisely one hour to wait before James came back to collect them…
If only they had a mobile phone but Sue knew she wouldn't get one because like much of today's technology, they scared her. She was convinced she'd do something terribly wrong and break it.
But as Sue's mum reminded her, James their taxi driver could be miles away. Perhaps on another job? Even if he could collect them straight away it'd be a while before he could reach them. This was turning into a disaster…
Before long another man came towards them and asked if he could help. This man turned out to be a librarian and he led them back into the library itself. They explained the situation and he said they could wait at the desk - and even offered to call James from the phone used by the librarians. Sue told him the number and he picked up the phone and dialled expectantly, but his face changed when James told him he couldn't possibly get there before the time they'd arranged.
Putting the phone down the librarian turned to Sue and asked if there was another taxi they could use? "No," replied Sue's mum. "We know James and he knows us. He knows just what Sue needs and how to help her."
"Oh, I see." Mumbled the librarian.
For a few minutes the librarian and three of his colleagues who had been busying themselves amongst the bookshelves disappeared into a room not accessible to the public. Shortly afterwards five members of staff re-emerged but two of them quickly left the building while the remaining three stayed behind. It must have been decided that they would make sure Sue and her mum didn't wreck the place!
The three librarians who stayed behind were all friendly, and each one in turn chatted with Sue and her mum but the wait seemed to go on forever and it soon became apparent that everyone was getting restless. The librarians went off to re-arrange the books and DVDs. Sue could hear them talking about films they'd seen and longed to join in with their discussion but she rarely watched films. Her vision made it hard for her to recognise unfamiliar characters and often she'd find it hard to keep track of what was going on.
Looking around at the many shelves of books she longed to read too. But even that pleasure was denied her these days - unless she enlisted the help of modern technology, how ironic that the aspect of life which caused her so much angst also enabled her to enjoy such a basic pleasure.
Gazing at the crowded shelves she realised what a small fraction of this wealth of information she'd read. She doubted she'd ever get to access it either which made her sad. For a moment this seemed to put her whole experience of life in a nutshell. There were so many things she'd never know…
All of a sudden her thoughts were dragged back to the problem of the moment though when the first librarian approached them again and suggested they go downstairs. Was he going to throw them out into the street?
Putting a hand on the back of Sue's wheelchair he spoke wearily. "We've had to lock the doors, but you'll be able to see when your taxi driver arrives and then you can give us a shout to come and unlock the door…"
It was pointless arguing, so minutes later they found themselves abandoned in the small glass foyer which looked out onto the street. Sue was starting to feel anxious and didn't like being on show like this. She looked at her watch again. 8.40. "Let's hope he's not delayed," she said hesitantly.
It was dark outside now but only a few people were walking around. The library was close to the city centre, but it was still quite early and perhaps fewer people went out on Tuesday nights? Sue was glad it wasn't a busy night at the weekend with lots of young people milling around.
Fortunately their agony wasn't prolonged though and they both sighed with relief when James' face appeared at the window. But of course they still had to get out and somehow had to let the librarian know. They glanced towards the steep staircase, but there was no sign of anyone and they hadn't asked the librarian's name.
Sue's mum moved towards the stairs and Sue thought she was going to go and find someone, but to her amazement her mum instead shouted out the name "John!"
They never found out if this was a lucky shot, or if the librarian just heard a noise and came running to investigate, but it achieved the desired effect!
On the way home Sue thought over what had happened. Yes, it had been a memorable evening, but not for the reasons they'd expected.
The End
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