Lifestyle changes

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In America, many people have romantic feelings about country life. Many people living in towns dream of running their own farms and living on land. Few people really turn their dreams into reality. Perhaps there is nothing wrong with this, because, as Jim Doherty experienced when he started his dual career of writing and farm management, farming life is far from easy. But he wrote that he did not regret it and remained enthusiastic about his decision to change his lifestyle.

Mr Dougherty creates his own ideal life.

Sam Doherty

There are two things I've always wanted to do-writing and farming. Now I am doing these two things at the same time. As a writer, I'm not in the same class as E·B· White, and as a farmer, I'm not in the same class as my neighbors, but I can handle it well. After years of disappointment in cities and suburbs, my wife Sandy and I finally found spiritual satisfaction in the countryside here.

This is a self-reliant life. Almost all the fruits and vegetables we eat are grown by ourselves. Home-raised chickens provide eggs, and dozens of them can be left for sale every week. Our own bees provide honey, and we also cut wood ourselves, which is enough for winter heating.

This is also a satisfying life. In summer, we go boating on the river, have a picnic in the Woods and ride the bicycle captain time roaming. We ski and skate in winter. We are excited by the afterglow of the sunset. We love to smell the warmth of the earth and love to hear the cows moo. We watched the eagles fly over the sky and the deer leaping in the corn field.

But such a wonderful life can sometimes become quite hard. Just three months ago, the temperature dropped to MINUS 30 degrees Fahrenheit, and we worked hard for two whole days, hauling firewood along the river with a sled. In three months, the temperature will rise to 95 degrees, and we will loosen the soil for corn, weed in strawberry fields and slaughter poultry. Sandy and I had to renovate the back roof a while ago. Later, two of the four children, Jimmy, aged 16, and Emily, aged 13, will help me to repair the outdoor toilet that has been delayed for a long time. It is specially built for outdoor work. Later this month, we will spray the fruit trees with chemicals, paint the barn, plant seeds in the vegetable garden, and clean the henhouse before the new chickens arrive.

Between these jobs, I take time to spend 50 or 60 hours a week, either typing articles or interviewing articles for newspapers as freelance writers. Sandy has her own busy work schedule. In addition to the daily housework, she also takes care of the vegetable garden and beehives, bakes bread, cans and freezes food, drives the children to learn music and practice with them. She also has to take organ lessons, do some research work and type for me, and sometimes write articles herself, as well as tending the flower beds, piling firewood and transporting eggs. As the old saying goes, in this case, the bad guys can't be idle-even the virtuous can't rest.

None of us will forget the first winter. From 12 to the end of March, we were trapped by snow as deep as 5 feet. Blizzard raged, one after another, and the house and barn were covered with thick snow, while indoors, we used our own firewood to make a fire to keep warm, ate our own apples, and were warm and happy every minute.

After the spring, there were two floods. Once the river overflowed, and many of our fields were flooded for several weeks. Then the growing season came, and waves of agricultural products flooded in, which made us overwhelmed. Our refrigerator is stuffed with cherries, blueberries, strawberries, asparagus, peas, green beans and corn. Then the shelves and cupboards where we kept food cans began to be filled with cans of pickled food, including tomato juice, grape juice, plums, jam and jelly. Finally, the cellar is full of piles of potatoes, gourds and pumpkins, and the barn is full of apples and pears. It's really wonderful.

In the second year, we planted more crops, living almost on firewood cut from our own forest and only 100 gallon of fuel. At that time, I began to seriously consider quitting my job to engage in freelance writing. The timing is really bad. At that time, our two older daughters, Sean and Amy, were attending expensive Ivy League schools, and we only had a few thousand dollars in the bank. But we keep coming back to the old question: Will there really be a better time? The answer is no doubt. So, with my boss's blessing and half a year's salary as an accumulated allowance in my pocket, I left.

There have been some anxious moments since then, but on the whole, the situation is much better than we expected. In order to write articles with different contents, I climbed into the black bear's nest for Sports Illustrated. Sled teams of dogs for Smithsonian Journal; Investigated the truth of champlain Lake Monster for Science Digest; Rowing a boat across the public wilderness reserve in the border waters of the United States and Canada in Minnesota for Terminal magazine.

I don't earn as much as I did when I was working full-time, but now we don't need as much money as we used to. I earn enough money to meet the monthly mortgage of 600 dollars and the daily expenses of my family. Those expenses include all expenses, such as music class tuition, dentist's bill, car maintenance and college expenses. As for insurance, we bought a major medical insurance for low-income people. We need to pay the initial $500 for any medical expenses of each family member, and the medical insurance will pay 80% of the excess. Although we still have to pay a small amount of medical expenses, our insurance premium is also low-only $560 a year-and we insure ourselves against serious illness. We have no other insurance except this insurance item and the annual insurance of two cars at 400 dollars. However, we set aside $2,000 a year for personal pension stickers.

We make up the income gap by saving money without significantly lowering the standard of living. We still go out to eat once or twice a month, but now we visit local restaurants instead of high-end restaurants in the city. We still go to Milwaukee for opera and ballet performances, but only a few times a year. We eat less meat, drink less wine and watch less movies. The extravagant Christmas became a memory, and we took the completion of the manuscript as part of our holiday ...

I don't think all people who love the country will be happy to live our life. This kind of life needs some special qualities. One is to be able to withstand loneliness. As we are so busy and short of money, we seldom treat guests. There is no time for social activities during the crop growing season. Although Jimmy and Emily take part in various school activities, they stay at home most of the time.

Another requirement is physical strength-considerable physical strength. The way to achieve self-sufficiency on a small scale is to resist the temptation to buy tractors and other expensive labor-saving machinery. Instead, do it yourself. Our only machines (excluding lawn mower) are a small rotary cultivator with 3 horsepower and a 16 inch chain saw.

No one knows how much longer we can stay here-maybe for a long time, maybe not. When it's time to leave, we will leave sadly, but we will also be deeply proud of what we have done. We will also make a considerable sum of money by selling the farm. We have invested about $35,000 in the farm ourselves, and if we sell it now, the price can almost double. But now is not a good time to sell. But once the economic situation improves, the demand for farms like ours will increase again.

But we didn't move here mainly to make money. We live here because we want to improve the quality of life. When I watched Emily go to collect eggs in the evening, go fishing on the river with Jimmy, or enjoy an old-fashioned picnic in the orchard with the whole family, I knew that we had found the lifestyle we had been looking for.

Second unit

Civil rights hero

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In 2004, a center to commemorate the "underground railway" will be established in Cincinnati. This railway is unusual. It doesn't sell tickets and there is no train running. However, it sends thousands of passengers to their dream destinations.

Give people freedom.

Fergus M. Bodwich

I stepped out of this two-story hut, and there was a slight breeze on the Canadian plain. I was surrounded by a slim woman in black, a guide who took me back to the past. At that time, a hero in American history lived in Reston, Ontario. We went to an ordinary gray church, and Barbara Carter proudly talked about her great-grandfather, josiah Henson. "He firmly believes that God wants all people to be created equal. He never stopped fighting for this freedom. "

Carter's loyalty to his ancestors is not only about his own pride, but also about family honor. Because josiah Henson is still known today, it is because of his creative inspiration that an American novel character came out: Uncle Tom, Harriet and Beecher Stowe, the meek black slave in Uncle Tom's Cabin. Ironically, everything that this character symbolizes can't be found in Henson. A black man who doesn't want to fight and betray his race? Carter was quite indignant about this. "josiah Henson is a man of principle," she said firmly.

I came all the way to Henson's last residence, which has now become a historical site that Carter once managed, to learn more about this man, who in many ways can be called Moses of African-Americans. Henson himself freed himself from slavery, and then secretly helped many other slaves escape to the north to Canada-to king of thailand. Many people settled in Dresden with him.

But this place is just a stop for my heavy mission. Josiah Henson is just one name in a long list of fearless men and women who co-founded this "underground railway", a secret network composed of escape routes and reliable families to liberate slaves in the southern United States. During the period from 1820 to 1860, as many as 100,000 slaves went to freedom through this road.

In 2000 10, President Clinton approved the allocation of16 million dollars to build the national "underground railway" freedom center to commemorate the first great civil rights struggle in American history. The center is scheduled to be completed in Cincinnati in 2004. It's time to set up such a center. Because the heroes of the underground railway are still unknown, their achievements are still rarely praised. I want to tell their story.

John Parker looked nervous when he heard a light knock at the door. He opened the door to peep and recognized a reliable neighbor in the night. "There are a group of runaway slaves hiding in the Woods of Kentucky, just twenty miles from the river," the man whispered in an urgent tone. Parker didn't hesitate at all. "I'll go," he said, putting two pistols in his pocket.

Twenty years ago, that is,1.In the 1920s, Parker, who was born as a slave, was taken away from his mother at the age of eight, and was forced to walk in chains from Virginia to Alabama, where he was bought from the slave market. Determined to live a free life one day, he managed to learn the craft of cast iron. Later, he finally saved enough money to redeem his freedom by this craft. Now, Parker works in an iron foundry in ripley Harbor, Ohio by day. In the evening, he became a "flight attendant" on the underground railway, helping people to avoid those who chased runaway slaves. In Kentucky, where he is heading, the authorities are offering a reward of $1,000 for him, both living and dead.

On that cold night, Parker crossed the Ohio River and found ten fugitives. "Take the parcel and come with me," he told them, taking the eight men and two women to the river. Just before landing, a night watchman found them and ran away to report.

When Parker saw a small boat, he shouted and pushed the escaped slaves onto the boat. Everyone got on the boat, but two people couldn't hold it. The boat slowly sailed to the other side, and Parker watched helplessly as the pursuers surrounded the two men he was forced to leave behind.

Everyone else went ashore, and Parker hurriedly arranged a car to take them to the next "station" of the underground railway-the first leg of their trip to Canada. John Parker led more than 400 slaves to safety in his lifetime.

Black people often go to be flight attendants because of their own painful experiences, while those white people are often inspired by religious beliefs. Levi Coffin, a Quaker who grew up in North Carolina, explained: "The Bible only asks us to give food to the hungry and clothes to the naked, but it doesn't mention the color of skin."

In the11920s, Coffin moved westward to Newport, Indiana (today's Fountain City), where he opened a small shop. Legend has it that runaway slaves can always get shelter at Covent's house. Sometimes he sheltered as many as seventeen fugitives at a time, and he also prepared a group of people and vehicles to send them to the next trip. Later, three main routes met at Covent's house, which became the central station of the underground railway.

Coffin was often threatened with being killed because of his work, and was warned to burn down his shops and houses. Almost every flight attendant faces similar dangers-or worse. In the north, the sheriff will impose fines or short-term imprisonment on people who help escape. In southern States, whites were sentenced to months or even years in prison. Calvin Fairbank, a brave Methodist priest, was imprisoned in Kentucky for more than 17 years. He recorded his beatings: he was flogged for 35 times, 105.

As for those black slaves, escaping means traveling hundreds of miles, which means crossing strange areas where they are easily recognized. There are no road signs, and there are almost no road maps. They all rely on the route that they have told each other and secret signs, such as nails nailed on trees, which are the signs that flight attendants use Song to mark the route to the north.

Many slaves traveled under the cover of night, sometimes with thick white powder on their faces. Quakers often make their "passengers" wear gray clothes, deep hats and veils that completely cover their heads, regardless of sex. On one occasion, levi Covent transported so many fugitive slaves that he dressed them up as a funeral procession.

Canada is the preferred destination for many fugitives. Slavery was abolished there 1833, and the Canadian authorities encouraged fugitive slaves to settle in their vast uncultivated land. Among them is josiah Henson.

As a child, Henson witnessed the whole family being sold to different owners in Maryland, and saw his mother being beaten to keep herself with her. Henson took advantage of every opportunity given him by fate, worked diligently and was highly valued by his master.

The financial difficulties finally forced Henson's owner to send him, his wife and children to a brother in Kentucky. After working hard there for several years, Henson heard a terrible news: the new owner was going to sell him to the far south hinterland to work on the farm. This slave will be separated from his family forever.

There is only one way to go: escape. "I will recognize the North Star," Henson wrote many years later. "Like the savior of Bethlehem, it tells me where I can be saved."

Henson and his wife took great risks and took their four children on the road. Two weeks later, the hungry and tired family came to Cincinnati, where they got in touch with members of the underground railway. "They provided us with room and board, were very concerned, and then sent us 30 miles by car."

The Hensons continued to go north and finally came to Buffalo, New York. There, a friendly captain pointed to the other side of niagara river. "'See those trees?' He said,' They grow on free land. He gave Henson a dollar and arranged a boat, which carried the black slave and his family across the river to Canada.

"I threw myself on the ground, rolling in the sand, dancing, and finally, the few people present decided that I was crazy. He's crazy,' said a Colonel Warren. "

"'no, it's not! Do you know? I'm free!' "

Third unit

security issue

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Many years ago, in the United States, it was common for every household to leave the door unlocked day and night. In this article, Green laments that people no longer trust each other and have to rely on sophisticated security equipment to protect themselves and their property.

Lock the country

Bob green

When I was a child at home, our front door was always unlocked at night. I don't know if this is a local saying or if everyone says so; "Leave the door unlocked" means to cover the door, but not lock it. None of us carry keys; The last person to go home at night closes the door, and that's all.

Those days are gone forever. In the country, in the city, the door is no longer closed and unlocked, even in the evening.

In many ways, suburbs and rural areas are even more vulnerable to attacks than well-patrolled city streets. Statistics show that the crime rate in those areas that are said to be peaceful has risen more significantly than in towns. In any case, the era when the front door was left unlocked is gone forever.

Instead, anti-theft locks, protective chains, electronic alarm systems, and alarm devices connected to police stations or private security companies. Many people in the suburbs have installed glass sliding doors on their balconies, and there are exquisite steel bars on the inside, so that no one can pry the doors open.

In the warmest home, you can often see a small notice posted on the window, saying that this house is supervised by a security agency or a security company.

Lock has become a new symbol of America. Indeed, a recent public service advertisement of a big insurance company did not show how dangerous we were, but used a picture of a baby carriage with padlocks hanging from it.

The advertisement points out that, yes, it is the insurance company that pays for the stolen goods, but who will compensate for the impact of the new atmosphere of mutual distrust and fear on our lifestyle? Who will make spiritual compensation for the transformation of the United States from a free country to a locked country?

Because that's the status quo. We have become so accustomed to protecting ourselves from the new atmosphere of American life, so accustomed to setting up obstacles that we have no time to consider what all this means.

For some reason, we feel at ease when we feel well guarded; We didn't think to ask ourselves: Why did this happen? Why do we have to isolate ourselves from our neighbors and residents living in the same city? When did all this start to dominate our lives?

All this really dominates our lives. If you work in a large and medium-sized company, you may not be able to get in and out at will. You may have some kind of access card with you, electronic or something, because this card allows you to get in and out of the workplace. Maybe the security guard at the front desk knows your face and lets you in with a wave of his hand on weekdays, but the fact is obvious that the company you work for is deeply threatened, so you should use these "keys" to keep outsiders away.

This phenomenon has not always existed. Even ten years ago, most private companies still adopted the practice of free access. At that time, it never occurred to managers that the appropriate means was not to trust others.

And look at the airports around. In the past, parents often took their children to the boarding gate to watch planes take off and land. This kind of thing never happens again. The airport is no longer an interesting place to study; They have become places with the most sophisticated security inspection system.

With the electronic perspective device, it seems that we have finally come up with a clever plan to keep terrorists from getting close, whether they are real terrorists or imaginary. It's a great relief to solve this problem, so we don't think much about what this situation means to our quality of life. Now we have passed these electronic searchers without looking at them; These devices and everything they stand for have won.

Our residential area is under the irradiation of strong light source; We don't even want to give ourselves even such a small enjoyment as shadow.

More and more businessmen are buying new machines that can analyze the caller's voice and connect to the telephone. It is said that the machine can let a businessman know whether his friend or customer is lying, and the probability of making mistakes is very small.

All this is done in the name of "safety": that's what we tell ourselves. We are afraid, so we try to lock our fear out, and we decide that that is the meaning of security.

In fact, it is not; Although we have all these safety measures, we are probably the most insecure citizens in the history of human civilization. What better word can be used to describe the lifestyle we are forced to choose? What could be more tragic to show the fear we feel in this confusing new era?

We don't trust anyone. Housewives in the suburbs hung anti-rape whistles on the key chains of family travel cars. We became so smart in self-defense, and eventually all of us were smarter than ourselves. We may have locked evil out; But in doing so, we locked ourselves in.

That may be the spiritual legacy that we remember best when we look back on this era in the future: when dealing with the invisible fears among us, we became our own prisoners. In our troubled times, all people are prisoners.

Fourth unit

Alien

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This is just a mistake, a stupid mistake, the kind that everyone can make. It's just that from now on, there will be no more space visitors coming to visit the earth. Never again.

region of rivers and lakes

Isak Asimov

We won't have any more space tourists coming. Aliens will never land on the earth-at least not anymore.

I'm not pessimistic. In fact, aliens have landed on the earth. I know this. There may be many spaceships shuttling between millions of planets in the universe, but they will never come to us again. I know that too. And all this was caused by a ridiculous mistake.

Let me explain.

This is actually Bart Camelon's fault, so you need to know something about Bart Camelon. He's the sheriff of Ungar Ridge, Idaho, and I'm his deputy. Bart Camelon is a grumpy man, and he is more likely to get angry when he has to sort out how much income tax he should pay. You see, besides being a sheriff, he also runs a grocery store and owns shares in a sheep farm. At the same time, he also enjoys disabled veterans' allowance (knee injury) and some other similar allowances. In this way, his personal income tax is naturally complicated to calculate.

It wouldn't be so bad if he asked the tax official to help him fill out the form, but he had to fill it out himself, so he was full of complaints. Every year on April 14, he becomes inaccessible.

That UFO landed on April 1956 14, which was a big mistake.

I watched it land. At that time, my chair was backed against the wall of the sheriff's office, and I was looking at the stars outside the window, wondering whether I should go to bed after work, or continue to listen to Camelon's constant scolding. He was checking the column numbers he had filled in on the tax bill for the first time127th.

At first, it looked like a meteor, but then the light became wider and wider, and it became two things like rocket jets, and the thing fell without making any noise.

Two people came out.

I can't speak or do anything. I can't breathe, I can't signal with my hands, and I can't even stare big. I just sat there.

Camelon? He never looked up.

There's a knock at the door. The door opened and the two men on the UFO came in. If I hadn't watched the UFO land, I would have thought they were from the town. They were dressed in gray suits, white shirts and dark reddish-brown ties. They are wearing black shoes and hats, with dark skin, dark curly hair and brown eyes. Both of them look serious, and their height is about 5 feet 10 inch, and they look very similar.

God, I'm so scared.

But Cameron just looked up and frowned when the door opened. "What can I do for you, man?" He said, patting the tax bill with his hand, obviously busy.

One of the two men stepped forward and said, "We have been observing your people for a long time." He spoke carefully and word for word.

Camelon said, "My people? My wife is the only one. What did she do? "

The man in the suit said, "We chose this place as the first contact point because it is remote and quiet. We know that you are the leader here. "

"If you mean the sheriff, I am. If you have anything to say, just tell me what trouble you are in?"

"We are very cautious, following your clothing style and even adopting your appearance. We also learned your language. "

You can see that Camelon's face is beginning to show understanding. He said, "Are you two foreigners?" Camelon doesn't like foreigners very much. He hasn't seen many foreigners since he left the army, but on the whole, he tries his best to be fair. ．

The UFO bearer said, "Foreigners? Exactly. We come from the water town you call Venus. "

Camelon said without blinking an eye, "All right. This is America. We are equal here regardless of race, color and nationality. I am at your service. What can I do for you? "

"We hope that you will immediately contact your country, the important person in the United States, and come here to discuss joining our great organization."

Camelon's face grew red. "We join the sparse organization. We are already members of the United Nations, and God knows what else. I think it's for me to get the president, huh? Right now? Come to Ungar? Send an urgent letter? " He looked at me as if he wanted to see a smile on my face, but if someone pulled the chair away from behind me at the moment, I wouldn't fall to the ground.

The UFO bearer said, "It's not too late."

"Do you want Congress to come? And the Supreme Court? "

"If it helps, sheriff."

Camelon is really angry now. He slammed the tax bill on the table and shouted, "Well, you're messing with me. I don't have time to pester you smart-ass people, especially foreigners." If you don't get out of here at once, I'll lock you up for disturbing the peace and never let you out. "

"Do you want us to leave?" Asked the Venusian.

"Roll at once! Get out, go back to your hometown and don't come back. I don't want to see you. Nobody here wants to see you. "

The two men looked at each other.

The man who has been a spokesman then said, "I can see that you really don't want to be disturbed." We never want to impose our own or our organization's opinions on unintended recipients. We respect your personal freedom and leave at once. We will never return. We will issue warnings around your earth and no one will come again. "

Camelon said, "Sir, that's enough. Stop talking nonsense. I'll count to three-"

The two men turned away, and of course I knew everything they said was true. You know, I've been listening to them, but Camelon hasn't. He's only thinking about his tax bill, and I seem to know what's going on in their heads. Do you understand what I mean? I know that a barrier will be erected around the earth so that others can't enter.

I can't speak again until they are gone-it's too late. I shouted, "My God, Camelon, they are from space. Why did you drive them away? "

"From space!" He stared at me.

I shouted, "Look!" I still don't understand what happened. He was 25 pounds heavier than me, but I dragged him to the window by the collar.

He didn't resist in shock. When he came to his senses and seemed to want to knock me down, he just saw the scene outside the window and suddenly couldn't breathe.

They are getting into the flying saucer, those two people, and the flying saucer is right there, you know, big, round and shiny, quite imposing. Then the UFO took off. It rises gently and skillfully, like a feather, and one side emits an orange light. The light is getting stronger and stronger, the flying saucer becomes smaller and smaller, and finally it becomes a meteor and disappears gradually.

I said, "Sheriff, why did you send them away? They want to see the president. Now they will never come back. "

Camelon said, "I think they are foreigners. They said, learn our language. And what they said is inexplicable. "

"Hum, come on, it's still a foreigner."

"They say they are foreigners, and they look like Italians. I thought they were Italian. "

"How can they be Italian? They said they were from Venus. I heard that? They said so. "

"Venus." His eyes became more and more round.

"They say so. They call it a water town or something. You know, there is plenty of water on Venus. "

So you see, it's just a mistake, a stupid mistake, the kind that everyone can make. It's just that there won't be any Venusians visiting the earth from now on. Camelon this fool, and his damn tax bill!

I heard him mutter, "Venus! When they said water town, I thought they meant Venice!