Letter to Alaina Lockhart (Liberal Elect Fundy Royal)

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Dear Alaina,

I am in your Liberal riding and old enough to have asked Pierre Elliot Trudeau for his lapel rose at a rally at the Chateau Laurier a few decades back now. You see, I’d worked as a youth in his campaign. I recall a couple things about his character that still resonate with me at present. He was a man of the people, for the people and a sound representative for human rights and the Canadian Constitution. He was the Charter of Rights and Freedoms incarnate. He stayed out of our bedrooms and would never have supported insidious Bills like C-51. He did not want our sovereignty occluded by the illusions proffered by a Queen that God had already saved. It was a time for us to swell with autonomy and self-governance. We were a big nation of small population, but we were ready. With Trudeau at the helm, we could trust him as our representative and statesman to move forward into a bright future.

When he looked in my eyes, smiling into my face, that fateful moment, unabashedly proffering his rose to me, I felt a pure love and ethical centre that I’ve known in few people since; let alone in the heart of a politician! He was full of life, a natural born leader. He was opinionated, charismatic, and ballsy, protective and a true Canuck. He shone with knowledge, brilliance, character and discernment; a rare thing indeed in any human being. It is fair to say that I loved him. All of Canada did. In that moment when I gazed into his eyes, I peered into his ethical centre. I waved to him like a friend every time I drove past 24 Sussex.

Conversely, our country has taken a perilous journey since that time. It is true that I abhor big governments. Majorities in the hands of a few make me even more nervous. Since my fateful meetings with P.E. Trudeau, I’ve known few men with the integrity, genius and knowledge of economics that truly represent their people until Ron Paul, the Libertarian, a true historian and economic luminary from Texas of all places! His emergence has completely caught my breath. The concept of auditing the Fed and giving the integral power back to the people and enabling them to drive the economy naturally burgeons my hope. We all know that the debt-based Fiat economy is a sham; an abomination of each individuals creativity.

In this North American climate of change, my more feminine faith remains broken knowing that the people haven’t the health to wholly hold the charge of Libertarianism, self-governance and autonomy at this time. I’m thinking, that it will have to take a grass roots revolution in the States to provoke any real change. Perhaps read anything Ayn Rand wrote and also “The Creature of Jekyll Island” (it’s a free pdf) if you want some history behind the impulse to enslave North Americans. However, I digress.

As a result of the last decade in Canada under Steven Harper (spoken seething between clenched teeth), I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not sure I want to identify as a Canadian anymore. In fact, I’ve not voted FOR anyone since Trudeau, just strategically against the worst possible candidates. I did the same this time too. Seriously, what was the point?! If Harper got back in, this election, my plan (which is already in motion) was to repatriate to Central America setting up offshore, get my tax money and investments out of this corrupt nation being sold off to China in unethical chunks. I beyond tired of Bills being passed behind our backs, corrupt leanings, bipartisan politics and dirty back room deals. It disgusts me beyond measure. (Did I mention that I used to work for the feds years ago? Dark years for me indeed.) I hate that our peace keeping grace, internationally, is now tarnished beyond recognition. I am deeply ashamed. When I travel, I no longer where my Canadian flag as an insignia of pride on my knapsack. That makes me feel sad.

Yes, it is come to this, even though my family has been in Sussex (and Grand Lake), New Brunswick since 1789 since the Elliotts/McQuinns first landed on these shores. I kept my name through two marriages out of a sense of pride. Although I grew up and was educated in Montreal, Ottawa and Toronto, I came back “home” to work with and for my beloved brethren. I’ve hired a small slew of local New Brunswick women to help run our international natural health clinic, publishing house and natural building collective (shebearconstruction.com) over the last 6 years since I’ve been back. We’re thriving here! We’ve promoted lots of natural home births, helped folks with their chronic ills and provided many jobs. Heck we’ve even helped other want-to-be local authors publish their own books.

I attributed it all to the fact that my husband and I are self-starting, self-governing individuals who abhor hand outs. My kids are brilliant, self-educated homeschoolers. We’ve written 13 books, some best-sellers, and consult with our patients worldwide. Because of the passing of that fateful, rose, I learned to become an emblem of integrity and true Canadian grit. I am the essence of myself! I could have easily taken my family to BC and Alberta, a much more progressive climate, but we came east, against a tide of escaping Maritimers, to see what we were made of. Pierre Elliott taught me to grab your inner gumption and git ‘er done in the face of tradition and social adversity.

My husband is from Laval, QC, but he and I both love the people and landscape here. We also LOVE a challenge. Living out West, for us, would have been WAY too easy given our state of mind and work. We love being agents of change! Also, rush hour, here, is laughable. I also love to hike by the ocean. NB is an untapped jewel of beauty and charm. Grand Manan my go to place for healing, writing and self-reflection. We own acreage over on the Kingston Peninsula where we are starting a teaching centre for people (mostly women) to come learn how to build off-grid solar/wind homes out of hempcrete and strawbale.

We’re not about sustainability, we’re about permaculture and rejuvenation! That is the impulse that we bring to all that we hold sacred. The petro-chemical giants, around these parts, will phase out, naturally, it is not sustainable and it is NOT the way of the future. Every home in Germany is now powered off-grid by the sun! Pipelines and fracking (change 2 letters and you’re closer to the truth) are unethical practices of old-boys networks that marginalize our crown land and native holdings and their (our) peoples. It is not ethical to destroy our water table, our health or steal aboriginal peoples lands. I am “idle no more!” It also isn’t ethical to leave 1,000 murdered native women, and their bereft families, devoid of love, care, compassion or answers. I will not live in a land of seeming unethical cleansing especially where world health organizations know more about our dirty business, demanding a full investigation while we sit “Conservatively” and idly by. I am deeply ashamed.

There is little in the way of international vision in New Brunswick. Many folks outside this province think of it as the land that time forgot. Friends who’ve left to go to Alberta and Ontario tell me that New Brunswick feels like one big “Kings Landing” sucking on the teat of what ever Ottawa throws down east in the way of bones and benefits. We’ve been in this hobbled state of mind since the fishing/local farmers industries collapsed. We’re pathetically a province of hand-out recipients who abhor change with undertones of bigotry and racism. I’m not proud, and I’m not like my ancestors. I have changed and I will follow Gandhi’s maxim to “be the change you want to see in the world” just like Pierre Elliott did.

The trouble is that many Gandhi-like folk land on these shores, now, flavouring our traditional Maritime landscape with change, great food, self-motivation and education. Sadly, the bigotry and unfriendliness often drives these innovators away, up, into the more accepting urban, upper Canadian cities with the capacity to blend in racially and culturally. I detest that we only wave to white, fleshy people with Scotch red hair and Irish blue eyes. I am ashamed. Pierre Elliott mentored me differently.

In a couple of weeks, I leave Canada longterm for the first time in my life. Now that my children have grown and have left home, I can be a digital nomad working remotely to run my business via Internet and Skype. From a distance, I will ruminate on my choices. Do I resonate with Canada and her majority government? Likely not. Will the past wreckage and carnage be undone? Perhaps. Will I feel empowered to continue the work we’ve begun in the last 6 years in NB? Is this the right geography for me to fully become my essential self, to be fully actualized as an ethical and righteous human being within the construct of a Canadian identity? The answer 4 days out of this past election, is … I simply just don’t know.

Right now the more easy beach breezes, solar off-grid home, and high speed internet calls to my more than mid-life bones. I’ve worked full-time since I was 16 (orphaned tragically by both parents), completing an honours BA, a medical degree and post graduate study. For the first time in 52 years I’m solvent without student loans crushing my spirit even though this country was supposed to be built on the mandate of FREE education to all (reference to Natural Persons and the serial number on the back of each and every Birth Certificate). I’ve tirelessly researched, written and published 13 books as an Indie writer with not a cent of support from outside sources. Perhaps it is time to hand over the reigns/reins to my own beloved children while I live offshore. You see, I just don’t know. I’m not feeling it.

As you go forward, please think of me. Although, we come from the same town we are different and yet the same. We are entrepreneurial women who love our children, husbands, our Province, our Country, integrity and the truth. Please do not forget that I am who you represent … in the name of God and the essence of the rose.

Sincerely,
Allyson McQuinn
————————————-
DHHP, Diploma Homeopathy Heilkunst Program, JAOH, Post Graduate Journeyman in Anthroposophical Orgonomic Physical and Medical Heilkunst
Arcanum Wholistic Clinic Inc.
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Art and Nature Centre, Knowlesville, New Brunswick

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I had the wonderful pleasure of taking my daughter away with me for 2 days to Knowlesville, New Brunswick this past weekend.  The Fall colours were mind-blowing and at times when we crossed a ridge, my driving knees would go weak with awe at the gradation of colours. Nature gets very showy at this time of year and I feel so blessed to be able to enjoy it in one of the most magnificent places in the world.

 

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There is nothing so awesome to me than hitting the top of a ridge and seeing nothing but trees, trees and more trees.  Central New Brunswick has little to clutter up it’s beauty but a few choice farms and fields of harvested food peppered with livestock on it’s landscape. There is no industry, few gas stations and fewer factory farms.  It feels like Vermont, only about 200 years ago!

Our chosen destination had a few purposes.  I’d chosen to take my daughter away before my husband and I leave Canada for a warmer climate for the next 6 months.  I also wanted to visit the Knowlesville Art and Nature Centre and my new friends Tegan and Leland, educators, natural builders and off-grid homesteaders.  I wanted to connect with the people that I’m working to become.

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When we arrived at the straw-bale constructed home, our hosts had let us know that they would be attending a birthday party nearby and that we should just go on in, settle ourselves and then go in search of children’s voices to join them at the bon fire celebration.  Once I entered their magnificent home and cozied in next to the fire after the 3.5 hour drive, from Saint John, it took a lot to tear myself back outside into the brisk Fall air.

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I felt myself take in the walls with awe and wonder.  Most of the walls were finished with a white lime wash, while others still had their “rough coat” only where some bits of straw were visible in the corners.  I was very thankful that I got to observe the living phases of a natural building on these more exposed walls.  It was like observing everything that I had studied about natural building thus far.

The walls felt warm, insulating, enveloping and they seem to lower my more churned up city psyche and bring it down several notches.  My gut was smiling into the roots of my being.  It confirmed how much I’ve craved this feeling full time in my own home.  The post and beam construction spoke to a solidity and master craftsmanship that made me almost weep with the detail and care.  My woman’s heart felt love and beauty carved in each male and female joinery.  This home was an artful rending.  My soul rejoiced!

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Each window provided a seat for one of the four children that I later observed reading or napping in the warmth of the sunlight.  The lights were few and remained off much of the time due to the desire to conserve the solar power stored in the bank of batteries and so often you’d feel drawn to the deeply magnificent linseed oil sealed windows to see or read something more clearly.  Beauty and activity abounded by the portals of light.

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I loved how each wall curved in the most feminine way from the surrounding straw bale shape making the window that much more accentuated.  The ledges so wide and inviting that a bowl of fresh picked Quince, a Russian Doll, the ingredients to make sourdough bread and necessary travel books, lanterns and a hat all graced the ample surfaces.  Posies from a day gone bye dropped the seeds of potential for next year’s planting.

I was truly besotted by every detail.  So much love, meaning and tenderness went into this more than 3,500 square foot dwelling.  I was captivated to such a degree that it was like falling deeply in love.  I could not wait to meet my hosts!

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Tegan and Leland were both the most generous, talented and loving individuals that I might ever have had the pleasure to meet.  Their home was a tapestry of muted children’s voices, the straw bale walls seemed to absorb and then exhale their calls for their mother or the 8 month-old baby’s mewling in the early morning shortly after the near light of dawn.

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Both Leland and Tegan chose to build their house on a 4 foot poured concrete foundation given the height of this buxom timber frame structure.  Each floor above rose in a slightly smaller proportion allowing for the slope of the roof and the load bearing posts and beams.  My daughter and I were on the top floor in the loft, just below the ladder to the pinnacle which is “tree-house” sweet spot of the home.  What an awesome place to play, sleep and marvel at the world from above the surrounding treetops.

The bath had a traditional four claw tub and a humanure toilet.  I’d read extensively the practice of bucket pooping, but I’d never personally sprinkled sawdust onto urine or excrement until this weekend.  I was sure that my olfactory senses would balk, however, I only noticed a mild earthy-like odour that smelled very much like an early day in Spring,  just alive and healthy without wasting precious drinking water.  Leland let me know that the compost from this culmination of organic materials created the richest of soils about every 3 years.  I was so excited to have lived everything I’d studied in books and watched hours of Youtube videos about natural/off-grid building.

We chatted for hours over freshly pressed apple cider from the apples in their yard, or warm milk from their family’s jersey cow with a dash of organic molasses. Yum!  Tegan and Leland informed me that their house is powered by 30 year old solar panels that the Reagan administration had done away with during the oil and gas boon in support of the petrochemical giants.  Some unassuming fellow in Maine had the foresight to buy them up and sell them to other off-grid-ers for a reasonable cost.

Tegan mentioned that they did have back up wind power for November and December when sunlight is in short supply, however, one day after stepping out of the bath, during an ungodly storm, she heard the wind rip into hollow beside their house and watched with horror as all the blades of her windmill got blown to smithereens, scattering like toothpicks across the gnarly landscape.  She said that someone had kindly donated a new kit, but that they’d been so busy, of recent, to have gotten around to installing it yet.

As we got into the territory of She-Bear Construction, Leland said that he was blown away by the recent surge of women builders.  He said that women were adding a real artistry to their homes with coloured glass bottles in transoms over the door to river stones in the shower or hand-made tiles for back splashes.  He said that they all seem to want round homes!  In fact, he’d just finished building a permanent round yurt out of straw bale for a hospital nurse neighbour up the road, “The cedar shakes for the roof was the biggest challenge.  She’ll have to apply Linseed oil on them every 5 years on a hot day during the summer to maintain it’s durability.”

After a pause, Leland spoke, further ruminating, “With all our traditional supplies designed to build square structures, I sometimes wonder if there will be a place in future for a male builder like me.  Natural building is evolving so quickly that I’m unsure how I might fit in to serve this burgeoning evolution.”  When I looked around his home, I could see no reason for him not to be served by an apprenticing natural builder like me.  I’d do just about anything to spend a summer working for him.  Also, he could build me a square, triangle or round house for me any day … his craftsmanship was superb!

After Leland had provided me with about 5 different female builders from Nova Scotia to Oregon, I decided to go for a walk to clear my head and check out the area.  I walked down the road to get a good look at the round house he’d built from the outside.  900 square feet with a naturally peaked cap of the roofline over the doorway, lent an artistry that was awe inspiring.  The chimney was blowing smoke rings from the height of the central peak.  What a masterful feat of thought and engineering!  Would I ever be able to pull off something as beautiful as this?

I continued my walk while being passed by periodically by trucks with men and women wearing camouflage gear and bright orange vests.  I waved to them, as all New Brunswickers wave to each other on country roads.  It is buried courtesy in our culture.  I got down quite a piece when I heard the hunter’s shots not too far off in the distance.  Even though I was wearing a bright yellow rain jacket, I decided to turn back.  I hadn’t slept well the night before due to the excitement and so I had the desire to take an afternoon nap in the loft next to my teenage daughter who still wasn’t out of bed yet.

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The snowflakes on this late October day fell in giant clusters as I reached the front porch. Several laying hens, and their accompanying roosters, had hopped up on the wrap around deck in an attempt to stay warm and dry as the early snowfall must have also accosted them.  I found them hiding behind several cords of wood stove wood.  The hammock hanging at one end spoke of summertime’s passing and Tegan’s work in Mexico and Central America as a biologist, propagating orchids, before marriage and children.  She now spends her days studying and applying the principles of holistic and inspirational education from the inside out.

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The next morning, on Sunday when we departed, full of wonderful, dynamic conversations about Waldorf education and natural building, I stopped by the church cum school that they’d had moved from the village of Knowlesville a few years prior.  The sunlight dappling it’s mustard walls with the early tree figures from the sun on the rise.  Our bellies also full of homemade oatmeal peppered with raisins and fresh apples from this years bumper crop.  The local maple syrup, the chai tea made with fresh cream skimmed from their Jersey milk still churned with pleasure in my mind and belly.  I’d enjoyed a little slice of heaven on earth.  I had embodied my model of excellence in natural living for myself.  The key for me will be to hold this ideal in my mind while I work to become it for myself.

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To find our more about Tegan and Leland Wong-Daugherty’s Natural Building, Land Trust and Intentional Community, you can find them here: http://www.back2land.ca/about-us.html

 

 

 

 

 

What Does Natural Hemp Building, Tiny Houses and Permaculture All Have In Common?

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Andrew Martin is the author of the book Rethink: …Your world, Your future (http://amzn.to/1KShmDL). After waking up to the worlds sustainability crisis, Andrew left the high flying world of finance to move to New Zealand and start a permaculture farm where he now lives with his wife Beth. In this interview, we hear about his research, permaculture and how the tiny house movement provides insight into potential models of sustainable living.  Perhaps you, too, will intuit the link between sustainable living, economy of scale, natural building and permaculture.

 

Checkout this video of him below, giving some great insight onto which direction we need to go in terms of sustainability and how tiny houses fit into that realm.

 

Tiny Houses And Permaculture For A Resilient And Sustainable Future

Hemp Could Free Us From Oil, Prevent Deforestation, Cure Cancer and It’s Environmentally Friendly – So Why Is It Illegal?

This blog is actually an article by Marco Torres already published by “Truth Theory; Keep Your Mind Open”.  Click on the Image for the original article here:

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Hemp is a tall, beautiful and gracious looking annual plant that can reach heights over twelve feet. Although hemp (cannabis sativa) and marijuana (cannabis sativa var. indica) come from a similar species of plant, they are very different and confusion has been caused by deliberate misinformation with far reaching effects on socioeconomics as well as on environmental matters. The reason hemp is illegal is not because of any negative impact to the environment or human health, but exactly the opposite. It is so environmentally friendly, nutritionally and medicinally beneficial, that it provides too many abundant resources which would make it impossible for powerful corporations to compete.

Historical Use 

Hemp is the most universally useful plant we have at our disposal. The history of mankind’s use of hemp can be traced way back in time to between about 5000 – 7000 BC. Remains of seed husks have been found at Neolithic burial sites in central Europe, which indicate that they were used in funeral rites and shamanic ceremonies. It is probable that at that time the distinctions between various strains were not as pronounced as they are today.

Up until and even during WWII, hemp was a widely grown crop, which provided the world with an excellent and most durable source of fibre. Since it is an annual with a growing cycle of only 120 days it can be harvested several times a year, depending on local weather conditions. Its biomass is considerable, which means that it absorbs large quantities of the greenhouse gas CO2. It is resistant to bugs and requires little agrochemical treatment. It is extremely undemanding and can be grown in very poor conditions and depleted soils and will actually improve the soil structure over a period of years. For many centuries hemp was one of the most important industrial crops which provided the fibres for rope and tough, durable canvass without which the age of exploration could never have set sail.

In the US too, there have long been numerous rules and regulation in place regarding the cultivation of hemp. But unlike today’s regulations that strongly prohibit any cultivation of hemp, less than a century ago hemp cultivation was not just encouraged, but mandatory, with hefty fines being levied against farmers who refused. ‘Hemp for Victory’ was the government coined slogan that fuelled the last big bout of legal hemp cultivation during WWII, promoting hemp cultivation as a patriotic cause.

Delierate Misinformation About THC 

Hemp is a variety of cannabis sativa that has a long history of use in the United States. However, since the 1950s it has been lumped into the same category of marijuana, and thus the extremely versatile crop was doomed in the United States. Hemp is technically from the same species of plant that psychoactive marijuana comes from. However, it is from a different variety, or subspecies that contains many important differences.

Industrial hemp has very low Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) levels, which is the principal psychoactive constituent. Compared to marijuana which is specifically cultivated for personal psychoactive use, it is nearly impossible to “get high” on hemp. Marijuana that can be smoked usually contains between 5-10%t THC, industrial hemp contains about one-tenth of that. In order to get a psychoactive effect, one would need to smoke more than a dozen hemp cigarettes over a very short period of time to achieve any kind of psychoactive effect. The reason for the low THC content in hemp is that most THC is formed in resin glands on the buds and flowers of the female cannabis plant. Industrial hemp is not cultivated to produce buds, and therefore lacks the primary component that forms the marijuana high. Furthermore, industrial hemp has higher concentrations of a chemical called Cannabidiol (CBD) that has a negative effect on THC and lessens its psychoactive effects when smoked in conjunction.

Industrial hemp also grows differently than THC-containing cannabis. Hemp is typically grown up, not out, because the focus is not on producing buds but on producing length of stalk. In this way, hemp is a very similar crop to bamboo. The stalk contains the fiber and hard, woody core material that can be used for a variety of purposes, even carpentry.

The two also differ in the areas that they can be effectively grown. THC-producing Marijuana must be grown in generally warm and humid environments in order to produce the desired quantity and quality of THC-containing buds. However, since industrial hemp does not contain these buds, and the hardy parts of the plant are the more desired, it can be grown in a wider range of areas. Generally, industrial hemp grows best on fields that provide high yields for corn crops, which includes most of the Southwest, Southeast, and Northeast United States. Furthermore, since industrial hemp can use male plants as well as female plants (since the object is not THC production), higher crop yields can result.

While there is virtually no THC in the varieties grown for industrial uses such as oil and fibre, governments have cooperated with powerful corporate lobbyists the ensure that hemp is lumped into the same category as marijuana. The primary reason is that hemp has too many abundant resources for fuel, housing, food, medicine that corporations cannot exploit. Think about how many polluting conglomerates would go down if hemp was permitted as a resource. The oil, pharmaceutical, supplement and constructions industry would need to radically shift their business model to survive.

Abundant Resources 

Hemp provides the fibre to make a durable paper – a far more sensible solution than the wasteful method of clear cutting old growth forests, or even the cultivation pine plantations that are ecologically speaking dead zones that take 20 years to mature before they can be harvested. Cannabis produces 4 times more fibre per acre and can be harvested several times per year. The first dollar bills were printed on hemp paper, your old family bible is probably printed on hemp paper and even the constitution itself was drafted on hemp paper.

Hemp has the strongest natural fibres, which can be used not just to produce rough cloth, such as sails or canvass, but also durable work clothes, like the original jeans. When the plants are grown closer together the fibre becomes shorter and finer, which allows for finer textiles. Today, there are some fashion designers that are experimenting with a wide range of textiles made from hemp for their stylish, trendy hemp lines, shirts, suits, bags, jeans and more. And, no- you can’t smoke them to get high!

Hemp fibres are also finding application as a modern building material, an application that has been spearheaded and exploited successfully in France. Hemp fibres can be blended with water and limestone to create an extremely tough, light-weight, natural cement that has not only excellent insulating properties, but also shows more flexibility than conventional concrete, which makes it particularly useful as a building material in earthquake prone areas.

Back in 1941, Henry Ford built a car that was not only entirely built from ‘hemp plastic’, but also ran on hemp fuel. Hemp oil, pressed from the seeds is also extremely versatile. It can be polymerized to create a solid plastic-like material, which is extremely durable, yet nevertheless is completely natural and biodegradable, which could replace plastics in numerous industrial processes.

Car manufacturers are again turning to hemp as a resource to provide light-weight, yet shock absorbent and environmentally friendly material for their cars. Due to the high biomass hemp would also make an ideal source of ethanol, the best bio-fuel alternative to gasoline, which is capable of fuelling engines without producing all those evil gases that are destroying our atmosphere and poisoning the air. At long last, some of the top car manufacturers are beginning to follow in Ford’s steps.

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Some Facts on Hemp 

– Farming 6% of the continental U.S. acreage with biomass crops would provide all of America’s energy needs.

– Hemp is Earth’s number-one biomass resource; it is capable of producing 10 tons per acre in four months.
– Biomass can be converted to methane, methanol, or gasoline at a cost comparable to petroleum, and hemp is much better for the environment. Pyrolysis (charcoalizing), or biochemical composting are two methods of turning hemp into fuel.
– Hemp can produce 10 times more methanol than corn.
– Hemp fuel burns clean. Petroleum causes acid rain due to sulfur pollution.
– The use of hemp fuel does not contribute to global warming.

Hemp oil is of a very high quality and industry is using it in paints, inks and varnishes. In recent years the food industry is also discovering its virtues. Hempseed oil is one of the richest sources of essential amino acids and essential fatty acids, providing an excellent balance between omega-3, -6 and -9 fatty acids. All of these substances are currently being discussed, not only in the alternative health scene, but also by the food industry, which is searching for suitable ingredients to create so called ‘functional foods’. Essential fatty acids are extremely important to the proper functioning of cells. They play a role in reducing bad cholesterol and plaque, which is responsible for arteriosclerosis. Healthfood companies are beginning to experiment with hemp as a basis for a large range of products- from hemp seed bars, to gummi bears, to beer, to hemp cheese and many more.

Studies have been released that show people suffering from cancer have low levels of melatonin in their bodies. Also studies have shown that just smoking hemp can raise the melatonin levels in our bodies. So one can only imagine what hemp oil that is in a concentrated state can do to increase melatonin levels. Hemp oil promotes full body healing and raises melatonin levels thousands of times higher than normal. When the pineal gland produces vast amounts of melatonin, it causes no harm to the body but it is very hard on the condition you are suffering from and indeed can eliminate it. For almost a decade, Rick Simpson has been showing people how to cure cancer with hemp oil.

Both the commercial legal type of hemp oil and the illegal THC laden hemp oil are one of the most power-packed protein sources available in the plant kingdom. Its oil can be used in many nutritional and transdermal applications. In other chapters in my Winning the War on Cancer book we will discuss in-depth about GLA and cancer and also the interesting work of Dr. Johanna Budwig. She uses flax seed oil instead of hemp oil to cure cancer — through effecting changes in cell walls — using these omega3 and omega6 laden medicinal oils.

Hemp Oil Uses 

Every application that uses petroleum for it’s skin and hair products can use hemp oil as it is more beneficial and herbal. It can be used in many health issues as either a pain reducer or even as the cure for it.

– Since hemp oil is natural, it is used as a moisturizing oil which can be applied after a shower or a bath. When you massage your body with it, it nourishes the skin and increases the blood circulation. More on facial skin care.
– Hemp oil is used in cooking as well, though it is not suitable for high heat cooking. Along with giving a slightly nutty and crispy taste to food, it can be the perfect salad oil just in case you’re out of olive oil.
– Another application of hemp oil is it’s use as biodiesel in the same manner like other vegetable oils. It is a safe replacement for petroleum as it is non-toxic and doesn’t harm the environment.
– Almost all the forms of plastics can be made by using hemp oil instead of using petroleum as a base. As those made from petroleum, release harmful chemicals while decomposition, but those from hemp oil, don’t.
– Hemp oil can also be used in the production of paints as it doesn’t cause any armful releases when washed down from the drain and has very low emissions than the petroleum paints which are currently being used.
– Hemp oil prevents skin disorders like psoriasis, eczema, acne and dry skin. It is highly nutritious for the skin and makes a wonderful addition to homemade moisturizing blends and rejuvenating creams. (Read Andrew Weil’s article on hemp oilhttp://www.ratical.org/renewables/TherapHoil.html)

The list of beneficial uses of hemp goes on and on.

So why is non-psychoactive Hemp illegal?

There is an old saying: if you want to get to the root of a problem, follow the money. This holds true for hemp. In this case we have to ask the question ‘who benefits from hemp being illegal?’ The logical answer is: the oil companies- and their share holders, of course. Hemp became illegalized at the time when oil was beginning to make an impact on the economy as a base material for many things that hemp could also be used for, including textiles and fibres (plastics), cosmetics and fuel. Obviously, a resource is more profitable if access to it is restricted and not every farmer can grow it himself. In an exceedingly clever PR move psychoactive marijuana and hemp have been ‘thrown in the same pot’ as it were, and a massive campaign has been launched to convince people of the dangers of marijuana alias hemp – a highly questionable assertion.

Although technically hemp is not illegal to grow in some states, it requires obtaining a special permit from the drug enforcement agency (DEA) to restrict mass production. These permits are rarely given out and require that the crop be surrounded by security measures such as fences, razor wire, security guards, or dogs. For a crop that has little-to-no potential to get people high, the current attitude is both irresponsible and draconian.

Hemp is the most useful plant ally we have – a sustainable resource par excellence, as some might like to call it. Instead of cursing it we should be grateful to its deva and use all its ample gifts to turn the ecological demise of our planet around.

It is not hard to see how immensely valuable hemp is and how it has the potential of solving many of our environmental problems, not to mention our health problems. Yet, we are continuously deprived of its benefits because farmers are prohibited from cultivating this crop. Obviously importing it or products made from it is very expensive and the high expense is a prohibitive factor to choosing hemp as an environmentally friendly alternative even where it is available. It makes no sense to import a crop like hemp, when it can be, should be and used to be grown in all temperate and hot regions of the world.

Industrial hemp could transform the economy of the world States in a positive and beneficial way, and therefore should be exploited to its full potential.

Marco Torres
 is a research specialist, writer and consumer advocate for healthy lifestyles. He holds degrees in Public Health and Environmental Science and is a professional speaker on topics such as disease prevention, environmental toxins and health policy. 

Sources:
phoenixtears.ca
sacredearth.com 
yahoo.com
cannabisculture.com

Prevent Disease

 

Hemp Bound … With Humour and Enthusiasm

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Click on the image to learn more about the author and his exposé on the crop of the future

I’m having a right ‘ol romp.  It would seem that goat farmers from the mid-west are as  much fun to hang out with than an Anthroposophist discussing “The Philosophy Of Freedom.”  The latter describes my beloved husband, the former describes hemp philosopher and journalist, Doug Fine, also bound for the philosophy of freedom in a whole other way.

There’s nothing more delicious than a well-spoken individual who wholly embodies the “love of sophia” (literally the roots of the Greek “Philosophy”) in order to be the change you want to see in the world.  Modern day Gandhis are the kind of folk that jazz my world to the very nth degree.  His writing style is infectious.

As a Canadian, it rocks my boat tremendously to realize, through his words, that we Canucks actually outdid the States in a monumental way in an industry legalized here since 1998.  As of his writing in 2013 the bill was still not passed through congress to make industrial hemp legal to grow in the U.S.  It feels great to be mentor to our compatriots south of the border.

As Fine finds out over a journalistic adventure encompassing 2 years, industrial hemp holds so much raw potential.  We’ve actually become seasoned in Manitoba through hemp oil magnate Shaun Crew of Fortune 500 repute with his company Hemp Oil Canada.  Crew has taken a food loved by conscious health foodies and made a couple billion dollars from it by selling 50% of it’s oil and seed to a hungry American market.  Sadly, while dust bowl conditions literally plague the mid-western U.S., (totally unnecessarily as Fine sees it) due to a war on drugs where this innocent almost non-THC producing version of cannibis got totally marginalized over the last 70 years; only if the plant’s mother had been astute enough to give her seeming twin a different latin name.

If you read Fine’s book, you’ll find yourself laughing out loud as his philosophical hemp pundits run head-long into outdated political dogma as he tries to figure out how to free this plant, along with his truck from a Manitoba snowbank in minus 17 degrees Celsius in February.  His truck bed full of hemp paste for Anndrea Hermann’s hogs, a Missouri transplant herself with dual citizenship who obviously loves hemp enough to live in this crazy climate year round.  Meanwhile south of the border, Obama, needs to recollect some of his campaign promises towards sustainability.

In his interview with Hermann, amongst many Hemp-ites, Fine cites the fact that she’s teaching about Hemp at a Colorado University, checking THC levels in Canadian fields and also distributing Shiv for Hemp-Technologies just getting it’s footing.  Clearly, we’re going to have to be jacks of many trades until multiple players take the reins on the steep learning curve of this virginal industry.  Hemp building is just one other aspect of this remarkable plants love at second site relationship with humanity.

You’ll meet other key players who are also so hell-bent on creating an agricultural revolution with hemp, they will not only feed their hogs and chicken hemp paste (a by-product of agricultural hemp oil production) this EFA elixir from the Gods, but will wear the fibre so strong that their clothes may outlive them!  Their hemp bound posture to get this fibre to market as quickly and easily as possible to save a declining Ag. business while also save our depleted GMO raped soils. We’re all sending out tap roots to see who’s awake!

Fine takes a ride in a Mercedes Limo once owned by the Ferdinand Marcos (No, Imelda’s Shoes are not in the trunk) powered by Hemp Biofuel that needs to be specially mixed as the infrastructure for it’s full use was still at the virginal stage at the time of writing in 2013.  Did you know that you can feed 12 men for a year on one acre of hemp seed?  Did you know that the farmer who grows this voracious “weed” can generate $250,000 per acre with half the water needed by corn or soybeans?  Did you know that you can do this without any herbicides and pesticides?

I’m so excited to find out the philosophy and success we Canadians are already proving to have with this true cash crop that gives back to the environment out of an innate gesture beyond sustainability into rejuvenation.  It’s leaves sucking up a ton of CO2 (even after it’s become the wall of a home) and releasing it back as nitrogen to the soil, with it’s finger-like leaves, and its foot long taproots restoring stability to topsoil deplete fields.  This “Nebraska ditch weed” is what the declaration of independence was written on and the first US flag made from, never mind that it was grown by multiple U.S. presidents practically on the White House lawn.  No need to mow useless grass (pun intended)!

Doug Fine is a game changer with his book and his innocent awestruck path to know the true benefits of hemp as the beacon for salvation of poverty and strife for many North American farming families.  It promises to be the crop of our true salvation on so many levels.  Heck, its R-value for homebuilding, alone, blows my mind as it is ideally suited to this damp maritime climate we live in.  The capacity for multi-uses like fuelling the family shake to making the safest BMW door panels (naturally stronger than any polymer material) to lighter farm machinery that saves on bio-fuel hands down continues to leave me gobsmacked.  I can tell Fine is also more than a little blown away too.

The harder costlier part is getting in place the infrastructure to process this miracle fibre that frighteningly sets the duller blades on traditional combines on fire if one underestimates it’s strength,  This ropey twine of the future of ethical agriculture is beyond what most farm machinery can handle.  Fine’s book speaks to the how farmers will once, again, have to rally around each other to pool resources for making this May to August five foot wunderkind into a viable business like Europe, Australian and Canada already has.  We’re here for you brother.

Personally, I can already see the clear air above the petrochemical plants gasping in delight.  You combine this perfect, healthy breathable material called hemp shiv with some lime and water and you’ve got a whole happy off-grid home that lasts hundreds of years without even having to fire up the boiler to heat concrete to 300 degrees on either the Fahrenheit or Celsius scale. The shiv is just the stuff they through away, burn or use as bedding for farm animals.  Egads … please throw it this way on the next nor’wester!

The industrial age is clearly on a whole new footing, we’re “Hemp Bound” my friends, this philosophical goat farmer holds the keys to our freedom.  I’m right behind him holding the mixer.

 

Post Note Got Me Twitterpated two days later … as Doug Fine spreads the word about this article on Twitter.  Check it out!

 

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Thank you Stephen Lewis

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To read the original article in the Toronto Star, click on the above image …

At the age of 77, Stephen Lewis describes himself as being “happily in his dotage,” a man free to bare his soul and dispense with diplomatic niceties.

He did just that in Charlottetown last Friday. The one-time lion of the left unleashed a withering roar over eight years of Stephen Harper government that deserves to be moved from the relatively tiny confines of the Confederation Centre of the Arts and into a larger forum.

Lewis focused on five fronts of perhaps irreversible decline in this country, five only, because time did not allow him to get into all the factors that “scar my soul.”

The former Ontario NDP leader, United Nations ambassador and lifelong human rights advocate took aim at the “pre-paleolithic Neanderthals” in office and their role in the decline of Parliament, the suppression of dissent, the plight of First Nations, their blinkered climate-change policy and our plummeting world status.

There is no secret of the left-wing perspective from which Lewis comes. He borrowed the title of his speech, A Socialist Takes Stock, from his father David who delivered a similar cri de coeur some 60 years ago.

When he surveys the political scene today, he says he runs the emotional gamut from “rage to rage.”

But he is not alone. He joins a line of political elders who are taking increasingly harsh stock of this government’s performance.

Former Progressive Conservative prime minister Joe Clark has spoken out about foreign policy, former Liberal prime minister Paul Martin has been an outspoken critic of aboriginal policy and former ministers in the Brian Mulroney government emerged to condemn the watering down of environmental regulations.

Lewis told the Symons Lecture on the future of confederation:

  • Canada’s world standing is in free fall.
  • The Harper government’s contempt for Parliament and its traditions has degraded political life and fostered voter cynicism.
  • Its attitude to aboriginals is not paternalistic, it is racist.
  • Harper’s refusal to join the rest of the world and move toward renewable energy sources is endangering future generations and contributing to a looming planetary meltdown.
  • Civil society and the ideas it fosters have been slapped down and censored, subverting democratic norms.

“There is a radical ideological agenda gripping this country,” Lewis said, “but it’s not the environmentalists or the other targeted groups committed to the quest for social justice; it’s the political leadership.”

We are channelling the years of Richard Nixon’s enemies list, Lewis says, adding the former U.S. president was driven by paranoia, Harper is driven by malevolence.

Lewis compared the atmosphere in Ottawa to that of the Ontario legislature where he served for 15 years, the William Davis years.

There was a respect in that chamber, he said, and that was respect was fostered by the premier.

“Vitriolic nastiness in debate does not breed respect,” he said,

“nor does adolescent partisanship, nor do pieces of legislation of encyclopedic length that hide contentious issues, nor does the sudden emergence of frenzied TV attack ads, nor does the spectre of a Prime Minister’s Office exercising authoritarian control.”

The government’s refusal to hold an inquiry on missing and murdered aboriginal women, its refusal to compromise with aboriginal leadership on the funding gap on First Nations education and its environmental standing that has sunk so low that we are seen as an impediment to a climate change accord in Paris next year, are all being watched around the world, said Lewis.

“It is as though Canada had decided, like some mindless national curmudgeon, to be a permanent outlier on issues of minority rights and women’s rights,” Lewis said.

“It does us damage. It does us shame.”

Of the “redundant” tarsands, Lewis says he is “hyperventilating for the day, when some Canadian politician has the courage to say: Leave it in the ground.”

Is this merely an overheated attack on a government that shares none of Lewis’s principles? An angry journey into nostalgia?

“Somewhere in my soul,” Lewis says, “I cherish the possibility of a return to a vibrant democracy, where equality is the watchword, where people of different ideological conviction have respect for each other, where policy is debated rather than demeaned, where the great issues of the day are given thoughtful consideration, where Canada’s place on the world stage is seen as principled and laudatory, where human rights for all is the emblem of a decent civilized society.”

He will be ignored by those in office. But his words should be studied by any who seek to govern going forward.

Tim Harper is a national affairs writer. His column appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. tharper@thestar.ca Twitter:@nutgraf1

Appealing to New Brunswick Agriculture to Grow Industrial Hemp

 

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Dear Claude and Nicole,

Nathan XXXXXX suggested that I contact you, both, in order to inquire about potential industrial hemp being grown in New Brunswick or the Maritimes in general.  I’m looking for the shiv or hurd which as you may know is a by-product of the more valuable ropey core.  The shiv falls away during processing and is used mainly for animal bedding and construction.
As you probably know, the less than .3% THC plant grows like a “weed,” without herbicides and pesticides, and will yield 5 foot, or more, plants in 4 months, however, the rope is tougher than steal (which is why it’s being used in the door manufacturing of BMW’s) and is challenging to harvest without specialized equipment.
Many traditional combines have been known to catch fire after getting the rope caught and bound around the blades.  However, the rope for clothing, paper, plus the seed and oil for food when harvested is a high yielding crop with $250 per acre in profit for the grower.
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The seed, alone in one acre can feed 12 men for a year. 3 acres of shiv can build a 1,200 square foot carbon negative home with natural soundproofing, fire retardant, healthy, affordable breathable walls with no off-gassing glues, insulations or moulds given our wet climate.
Most New Brunswick homes last about 40 years before the materials start breaking down.  Vapour barriers and off-gassing materials are trapping spores in homes producing more incidences of asthma and allergies.
A house built of hempcrete will last about 2,000 years with much less maintenance.  The Egyptian pyramids have been found recently to be built out of hempcrete which naturally petrifies over time. The UK is building sub-divisions out of this long lasting, light weight, material with R-32 value in a climate very similar as ours without concerns for harmful moulds, mice, bats, rats or termites.  It is just that effective in a wet climate.
Western Canada, principally, has created a most lucrative industry in hemp given that 50% of their seeds and oils are sold to the States.  They are more than 6 weeks behind in processing capacity given that the demand far exceeds the supply.  I’m curious, as a natural builder, if the infrastructure is even being thought of in this province.
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I know that there used to be a hemp farmer in PEI, however, Maurice retired about a decade ago as he was only getting demand in NFLD by a brewery and grinding seed for a local hemp flour baker.  At present, I’m having to import bales from Manitoba which means delays and higher costs.  Have you heard of any local farmers thinking of getting into this billion dollar industry?  Fingers crossed!
Kindly,
Allyson
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She-Bear Construction: We teach you how to build natural, affordable, healthy eco-friendly homes. We’re a group of Maritime Canada birth-workers, healers, naturo-therapists and physicians who’ve formed a collective in order to help teach individuals how to build living, breathable off-grid homes out of hempcrete. We feel that everybody should have a healthy, affordable, sustainable home of their own, in beautiful surroundings, to live in and also raise their families. You can literally eat off our floors, walls and ceilings too!

Why A Romantic Wee Abode?

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“Most men appear never to have considered what a house is, and are actually though needlessly poor all their lives because they think that they must have such a one as their neighbors have.” ~Walden by Henry David Thoreau“Consider first how slight a shelter is absolutely necessary. I have seen Penobscot Indians, in this town, living in tents of thin cotton cloth, while the snow was nearly a foot deep around them, and I thought that they would be glad to have it deeper to keep out the wind. . . . I used to see a large box by the railroad, six feet long by three wide, in which the laborers locked up their tools at night; and it suggested to me that every man who was hard pushed might get such a one for a dollar, and, having bored a few auger holes in it, to admit the air at least, get into it when it rained and at night, and hook down the lid, and so have freedom in his love, and in his soul be free” ~ Walden by Henry David Thoreau

 

As a kid, you would always find me on my bike en route to the forest with the boys.  As a self-stated tom boy, I had little time for dolls as I wanted to build stuff.  In the forest, we would bear culled wood to make tree forts.  Everyone in our group would communally contribute a board, nails or a found ladder, a piece of cloth for the curtain and a whack of carpet for the floor.  Someone’s mom would bake chocolate chip or peanut butter cookies and we’d play for hours, always protecting our coveted home base, from errant mischief makers and perceived enemies.

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We’d all pinky swear never to share our secret hidey hole, especially with any adults or stupid prissy girls whose sole profession with to giggle inanely.  We were serious about our cowboy adventures using cap guns to protect our dominion.  If someone leaked its whereabouts, they were kicked out of the secret club without a word.  Within a day, under the cloak of darkness having snuck out of the windows of our parent’s homes at night, we’d secretly remove the fort limb by limb to another forest entirely using our wagons attached to our bikes.  It was quite the task to remove all traces of our meetings, often splitting up before getting a mile within our sacred abode, separating into different directions of approach before convening within 15 minutes or so at our secret den.

We’d use leaves to cover our CCM tire tracks before getting to the order of our serious plans and meetings.  Much later, into our pre-teens, our forts became a way to explore each others very interesting bodies and cultivate the first streamings of romantic lust and love.  Spin the bottle and double dare games had us racing home before the street lights came on with pink stained cheeks and dreams of forbidden love.  At this juncture, it became to my greatest advantage to be the only girl in our gang, even though I had still had the best lateral pass and was captain of our softball team.

I loved the feeling of freedom in those forts, our domain, our privileged space in the world.  Our anarchy stated in a shared dominion of pieced together culled wood.  We owed no explanation for our plots and no one had any right to question where we set up our utopian estate.  We did as we pleased, the world our little plywood oyster, no questions asked.

In our early teens, we even stealthily built a new fort, far more sophisticated to an island in the middle of the Ottawa River called Upper Duck Island between the province of Ontario and Quebec that you could only get to by canoe.  It was one heck of an undertaking to get the supplies across a body of water without tipping our vessels.  And no, we never used life jackets back then.  Life jackets were cumbersome and also for sissies.  We were in utter command of ourselves and our project to build our romantic abode at any cost.

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Much later, having grown up and assuming adult responsibilities, a loss of my health and also parenting to the expectations of the society that I still secretly most abhorred, I felt broken and fake.  I hated how I systematically dropped each of my ethical values into the fibreglass pink world of ugly aluminum siding and cookie cutter off-gassing pre-fab homes.  I worked endlessly just to pay the mortgage and bills.  My life a tax proliferating diseased matrix.

There was nothing culturally endearing in the suburbs where faceless women jammed the side walks with their baby strollers, where the constant drone of lawn mowers required to cut grass that never served any functional purpose, sucked up precious weekend time to keep shorn.  My husband and I working long hours, while our kids spent their days at the caregivers, to pay for their childcare and the home we stupidly abandoned every day.  Each yard surrounded by  8 foot fences for privacy with barking dogs trapped in the same micro yards that I was.  Dinner with friends and a bottle of wine, once a week, was my only escape in a much too false construct became the high pitched scream of my broken meaningless life.

I’d lost my intrinsic connection to nature.  Gone was the life of ducking branches as they whipped by my head, careening through forest on my blood red bike in the fort we once had by the “red bridge” in Rothwell Heights.  If I tried to even bike up that Delong Rd. hill today, I’d probably lose a lung onto the asphalt.  I yearn for the feeling of the natural tiny house in the trees, although, I’ve so very beautifully narrowed my romantic love down to one very resonant boy now that I’m 50 who will play spin the bottle with me any time i like!  I ache for my fort in the the forest with him.  I will actualize my dreams to be intimately licked again by the seasons.

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My new tom-boy friend (although she doesn’t know it), and Tiny House owner, Dee Williams describes the “thousand different ways it rains” just above her sky-lit head in her book, “The Big Tiny: A Built-It-Myself Memoir.”  As per Dee, if you clap your hands hard and fast, that is November’s rain! You can also watch her phenomenal YouTube videohere where you’ll hear her explain how the limitations of her heart condition caused her to reduce her living to a grid-free tiny house where she lives in community in her friend’s back yard sharing a garden as well as water access.  She is the master of her fort, her resonant kinship for herself within her space while also immersed in nature.  I was deeply moved after I watched her Youtube video above.

I also realized that I want a little little house based on the same principles as Temple Grandin’s squeeze machine.  I want to live in a space that energetically hugs me.  I abhor the 4 and 5 bedroom McMansions of my yesterday that literally sucked the special sauce from my life.  Years ago, I was studying all of Temple Grandin’s books and her view of her world of autism to gain more insights into the human psyche for my own research as a Physician of Heilkunst Medicine.  She is a very autonomous and brilliant thinker.

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I treat many patients in the spectrum, often successfully relieving them of their predisposition to stimming, gut issues and OCD behaviours by detoxing them from their life’s emotional and physical traumas including the vaccines and more importantly the Genetic Miasms.  It was only meeting with a colleague who owns a squeeze machine, like Temple Grandin’s, that I wholly understood on every level the advantages of being in a small space and how comforting that is.  Temple talks about the function and purpose of her squeeze machine, revealed in her movie here.

After a series of erroneous mishaps into disease myself and my son’s own perilous voyage into the autistic spectrum, and then out again which I tell in great morbific glory here in my first book, I came to know myself intimately as a child of the natural world. I realized that I want to go back to reclaim the parts of my childhood that most speak to me.  Camping in the tent with my family, spending time in the forts with just enough resources to be comfortable, with no hassles while keeping societal expectations at bay.

A couple of years ago I asked myself;  where am I happiest?  Camping alone in my tent with loads of time to ruminate, read, write, draw, eat good food both indoors and out with the basic necessities was the resounding answer.  I’ve made the luscious resolve to have less space and more intimacy with myself and my husband with fewer inane responsibilities like mowing the friggin’ lawn.  I will cultivate a permaculture acre in the woods while also living in a smallish home built from natural materials, windows to sit in while studying and writing by our wood-stove, a beautiful tiny kitchen with all the amenities, a pond, raised gardens, fruit trees and a wee separate fort for my artistic pursuits and above all, no stupid grass, adults or barking dogs.  Also I’m the only prissy girl allowed, pinky swear!