While attending the SLOW Food Movement, Terra Madre, we decided to become adventuresome the last day by exploring Old Italy. The option of riding the bus to Turin with the thirty English-speaking Americans seemed too easy; the escapade of walking to Mondovi with two university students (no Italian speakers in our group) and later riding the train to the conference was more appealing.    

That sunny Sunday morning offered new experiences.  We enjoyed winding through cobble streets, riding a mountain tram, praying in five hundred year old cathedrals, and appreciating the local art work.  

The view from the top of Mondovi offered lush green vineyards and olive orchards nestled in the foothills of the Alps.  Interspersed within agriculture was architecture revealing red tile roofs with earthy tones made from local resources.  Sundials decorated the buildings with hanging baskets of flowers and wrought iron balconies.  

Famished from our explorations, the four of us questioned a fellow on the street for a “ristorante.”  Giorgio smiled broadly motioning us up a hill to a plaza with a quaint open air café.  There he introduced us to his friend the owner of the restaurant and a wide array of Italian cuisine.  

We eagerly pointed to items on the menu thinking we would share one of each—a cheese appetizer, a meat appetizer, one pasta dish, a salad, and an entrée.  Giorgio slapped the waiter on the back and they both laughed and said something in their beautiful native language.  

When our first course, fresh mozzarella cheese and tomatoes, arrived we quickly devoured it with the accompanying bread sticks and olive oil.  Next, a platter of naturally-cured meats came just as delicious and filling.  By that time, the four of us realized we were receiving one platter with four servings instead of one platter with one serving.    

Knowing that it was too late to cancel our pasta and entree orders, we attempted to ask for UNO salad.  Sure enough, two huge platters arrived with our parmesan rigatoni and sausage linguini and one small salad.  Needless to say, we ended up laughing at our mistake, stuffed with exquisite Italian food, and empty of Euros.  

On the way to the train station, we ran into gregarious Giorgio.  There he was on the corner waving his hands and shouting.  The only thing we understood was “Grazie and Prego.”  The rest of his words may have translated to “Thank you!   I sure appreciate the kick-back from my restaurant friend.  You hungry tourists are always welcome. Please, come again!”  

Rusty and Claire just returned from a five-day networking session in Turin, Italy. called Terra Madre. This was an amazing gathering of over 6000 farmers, cooks, academics, and consumers from 156 countries sponsored by Slow Food International.
Carlo Petrini founded Slow Food in 1986. This passionate man originated the idea in a small Italian town when the corporate-owned, low quality food industry attempted to invade the European market. Slow Food supports good, fair, and clean food, grown, harvested, prepared and eaten at a slow pace and connects 85,000 members throughout the world.  

Good food is defined as delicious,  fresh, and local and stimulates the senses. This is food we see at local farmers’ markets, community-supported agriculture tables, farm stands, and/or backyard gardens. At the Terra Madre gathering we experienced good food at its best; there was an overwhelming array of ethnic dishes to satisfy our taste buds and nutritional needs. This is the way God created it,  whole and wholesome.

Clean food is produced without straining the quantity of natural resources, the earth’s ecosystem, and human health. Agribusiness is dismissed. Instead, traditional small farms practice the Slow Food philosophy. In Italy we met food producers from six continents committed to environmental stewardship.  


Fair food respects the social justice of others, meaning fair wages and work conditions for everyone involved in the food chain --from growing to processing, and promotion to consumption.  Our hearts cry out for the disparity of fair trade, health care, and immigration privileges within the food arena.  

The Slow Food movement is committed to defending the biodiversity of traditional food to insure that your quality of health is sustained. Please join in our excitement as we together preserve good, clean and fair food by making it accessible to every person on earth. Check out www.slowfood.com and become connected.  

Our first born and his Dad just returned from a week in Jamaica.  This being Walker’s first trip to the island inspired Rusty to guide his soon-to-be eleven year old into manhood by teaching him how to serve God’s people.

The two joined sixty joyful folks lovingly organized by Won by One to Jamaica, a hands-on mission group who has been helping the Jamaican people for over twenty years.  

After traveling three hours up the mountainous trail, Rusty and Walker befriended a tall thin Jamaica named Jerry who ran up an orange tree and threw down fresh fruit.  Jerry borrowed his aunt’s knife who was sitting on a bucket cutting yams.  The knife spiraled the fruit into bite size treasures causing Walker to remark, “Oh my gosh, this is good!”  Jerry’s bright white smile about split his face in two.  This was the beginning of the fruit-of-the-day club. 

Later that night he brought his younger brothers to the Harmony House, where the Americans were staying.  Here Rusty purchased ice cream for the boys from “Creamy” who uses his income to send his daughters to school. 

The next morning Jerry was patiently waiting with two green coconuts to quench the crew’s thirst while building two green houses.  These structures will be used by the locals to grow vegetables without the destruction of heavy rains. 

He expertly macheted the nut, whacking off the outer husk, clipped a nib off the end, and handed it to Walker who kindly repeated his enthusiasm and faithfully continued carrying maul (heavy limestone) up the hill to the construction site.

Rusty bartered a trail mix of raisins and peanuts for the refreshment and gladly provided more when bulging bags of grapefruit from Jerry’s buddy, Garnet, arrived after a long hot sweaty day of building two regular houses for Jamaican residents. 

Walker loves grapefruit, even the bitter kind, but this fruit was bursting with sweetness serving the group with many nutritious breakfasts and snacks.  His spiritual level was overflowing as well, especially, when visiting with the infirmary. 

This is where the sick that have no family are hospitalized.  There Walker sang Amazing Grace, read scripture, and prayed with these smiling, destitute invalids.   He even made sure Gavin, a prisoner who had his Bible stolen, was awarded a new one. 

More trips into the mountainous jungle offered our weary workers papaya and bananas plus many more opportunities to share God’s love with such warm and genuine people. 

Walker was touched by the generosity and the love of his new friends.  He found true peace and happiness in people who are the poorest in material things.  He discovered that hard work can be really rewarding.  He felt blessed by his wealth in God’s love. 

Even after eighteen hours in the air and airports our little boy never lost his self-control as he stepped into manhood.  The fruit of the spirit was flowing super sweet and extra juicy this past week.  Thank you to all who helped share God’s fruit. 

Our family traveled south to Wexford last weekend to help brother-in-law Tom and sister Marilyn landscape around their new veterinary clinic. 

Before beginning, the job seemed simple to Tom and Marilyn, but several times during the day they commented “we sure are glad we waited for Rusty.”  He shared many techniques to improve the shrub planting project.

First, he encouraged them to buy fifteen “balled and burlapped” rhododendrons from a reputable nursery rather than potted look-a-likes from a giant buy-it-all store.  B & B plants are locally field grown bursting with the beneficial bacterial and fungus within the soil.  In contrast, the potted shrubs are trucked in from warmer states in potting soil with timed release fertilizer subduing the beneficial soil organisms.  If not planted quickly, the roots grow in circles at the bottom of the plastic pot and can choke the plant.

Next, Rusty insisted they use compost in every shrub hole.  The holes were dug large enough to allow three to four shovelfuls of good organic compost.  From his experience, this soil amendment shows evident growth where shrubs prolifically grow and flower in comparison to plants with no added compost. 

After being placed in the hole, the rhododendrons were placed best side forward with the top of the root ball at ground level.  Then the burlap was unpinned and tucked below the ground.  If the burlap is exposed to the air it will act as a wick and pull all the moisture from the root ball. 

Rusty never recommends landscape fabric or black plastic.  These materials only make a permanent non-biodegradable layer for weeds to grow on top.

Rusty then gave a good stomp packing the soil around each plant ball removing any air pockets and heaped a donut of soil, a foot from the center of the plant stem.  This mound formed a well to help trap water from running off. 

After thoroughly saturating the shrubs, we mulched with four inches of bark chips to retain moisture and suppress weed growth.   He coached us on leveling the mulch along the brick wall to give the effect of a perfect manicure.

To complete the project Rusty guided us to cut a crisp edge separating the lawn from the new bed of mulched shrubs.    Katie, his niece, accepted the unveiling job of cutting the string off the shrub branches while Danny, his nephew, and our boys shared positive encouragement. 

That afternoon will yield years of blooming pleasure a reminder of a fun day when two families came together to work and play. 

Blizzard of 2010 - When Claire announced she had a “Restoring Our Community” conference in Washington DC, Rusty and the boys volunteered to drive her south and see the historical sights.   Having a concrete sequential personality, she had the boys list their interests and research tours and make appointments to insure the time would be meaningful.

Senator Specter offered the White House and Congressman Thompson came through with a tour of the Capitol.  The Terra Cotta Warrior exhibit topped the boys’ interest since studying China’s history, as well as the Air & Space, Art, and Natural History Smithsonian Museums.

Luggage, coolers, and books were packed when news flash -- DC received thirty inches of snow.  A conversation with reservationist Erika confirmed that the snow was over, the roads were clear, and the conference center was ready for us.

We set out stopping only briefly at the end of our driveway to ask God’s blessing on our exciting adventure.  All was clear in Pennsylvania, but it soon became evident that Erika must walk to work.  The roads leading into DC were a foot thick with slush, snow and ice.  Accidents and abandoned cars were as common as front end loaders and dump trucks loading snow, while Map quest directions were as horrific as Rusty’s hasty wrong turns.  After seeing all sides of the Pentagon on five different passings, he decided driving in the city may be the cause of the high urban homicide rate.

The hotel appeared before any murder occurred; bed never felt so good.  We arose rested ready to take on a new day.  Claire headed to class and the boys ventured out.  They boarded the National Geographic shuttle to view the warriors that surrounded the tomb of China’s fiercest emperor. As it turned out,  this was the only sight open in the paralyzed city.  With all government shut down, they hiked the rest of the day to view various memorials from afar.  The snow was knee deep and no amount of walking warmed the boys’ frozen toes.

The next day was similar, except the White House was open for tours.  We jumped on the Metro and jogged down Independence Avenue; we were on the fast track to see the President.  With moments to spare we arrived out of breath to be checked off on the security clearance.  Discovering that backpacks were prohibited, Rusty volunteered to wait outside until his family returned for his opportunity.  Michele Obama’s “Let’s Move” press conference closed the doors early, but Rusty enjoyed watching the VIPs arrive at the gate.

Our remaining time at the hotel was spent with 2000 conventioneers attending sessions on building positive opportunities for youth, exploring the tropical rain forest in the hotel’s massive atrium, and watching Michael Moore’s latest movie– Capitalism:  America’s Love Affair.

The boys loved the trip but diplomatically suggested visiting in the summer next time.