Wednesday, December 26, 2018 The Nugget Newspaper, Sisters, Oregon
Local student receives
organic ag grant
Local student Erin Franey
received a $2,500 grant from
the CCOF Foundation’s
Future Organic Farmer Grant
Fund to support her organic
training at Rogue Farm Corps
Apprenticeship Program.
The Future Organic Farmer
Grant Fund invests in the next
generation of organic produc-
ers through educational grants
for students and teachers
studying organic agriculture.
It is the only organic-focused
educational grant fund in the
United States. Organic pro-
duction supports a food sys-
tem that values environmental
stewardship, public health,
and animal welfare.
Franey is honored to be
part of the CCOF farmer com-
munity as a second-season
apprentice at Rainshadow
Organics, a 200-acre full-diet
The Nugget Newspaper Crossword
By Jacqueline E. Mathews, Tribune News Service
farm near Sisters. Her inter-
est in farming is rooted in a
boundless curiosity in food
systems, food culture, and
a commitment to building a
more just and equitable world.
She has worked as a commu-
nity organizer, director of an
international youth leadership
program, and at a cooking and
nutrition education nonprofit
in San Francisco.
This season at Rainshadow
she is both part of the crew
and works part-time as the
farm’s outreach manager.
She is most excited about her
efforts piloting a full-diet,
free-choice CSA program that
invites families to radically
change their relationship to
food by eating (almost) exclu-
sively from the farm.
For more info about CCOF,
visit www.ccof.org.
— Last Week’s Puzzle Solved —
Commentary...
Bull by Bull
By Judy Bull
Columnist
• The other day I got
pulled over in Bend for
rolling through a four-way
stop. Though I didn’t liter-
ally feel threatened, having
read about so many people’s
movements within their car
being misinterpreted by offi-
cers of the law, without any
conscious thought on my
part, I made sure it was OK
with the officer to reach for
my license, registration, and
insurance card. Until that
moment, I had no idea what
it meant to feel the need to
protect my own life.
• This fall my 94-year-
old, drum-playing-jazz-
musician-cousin, Cary, fell
while loading his drums
between gigs. Within a week
after surgery to repair his
broken hip, he was in rehab
determined to be front and
center for two New Year’s
Eve gigs and a jazz cruise in
January. Now that’s livin’.
• Second only to misplac-
ing one’s glasses and finding
them on top of one’s head:
I looked and looked for a
favorite plaid shirt to wear
one day, only to discover I’d
put it on earlier that morning.
• When I emailed Karen
that UNC was blowing
their football fields dry with
helicopters, she replied,
“Reminds me of our high
school baseball games in
farm country. Our team was
state champion for many
years, so baseball was a big
deal. If it rained too much
and there were puddles in
the infield, farmers came in
and dumped diesel on the
puddles and burned them
off, probably not very envi-
ronmentally sound.”
• While watching the
World Series this fall, I
became overwhelmed listen-
ing to all the trivia and spec-
ulation — especially when
it came to pitches, though I
do understand the game is
all about pitching. Within
30 seconds of hitting mute, I
realized it was actually better
with the sound on. And I do
love that barely visible strike
box.
• One day when Austin
was around 12 years old,
Molly asked him to mop the
kitchen floor while she was
at work. Ever the thinker, he
instantly knew which prod-
uct would give the floor the
perfect shine: Lemon Pledge.
Needless to say when Molly
and her dog first stepped
foot on said shiny floor, both
went down for the count.
• Even though about the
only time I ever went into the
OSU library was to smoke in
the Women’s Lounge, I was
lucky enough to have a long,
fulfilling library career at
Stanford Research Institute.
After the initial literature
search was completed, my
job at SRI was to retrieve the
relevant books and publica-
tions from Stanford for all
the scientists, economists,
and engineers doing research
and needing those materials.
A go-fer’s dream job.
• I first became a believer
when my Mom hollered,
“Jesus” at the top of her
lungs just before we got in
a car wreck. I was 6. I knew
instantly He was the one for
me, too.
25
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