Welcome to the f-word's Farm and Garden column. I will be addressing topics concerning the productions of food; topics ranging from: apartment window box tomatoes to industrial scale monocropping. I'm definitely interested to hear from you and what you would like to know more about, whether it's Monsanto's farm police, damping off of your seedlings or hints to keep deer out of the lettuce bed. I write about food because it is a very basic element of life. Over the past 60 years, farming and gardening have been changed, possibly more than any time in history. Corporate involvement, ranging from chemical based farming to ownership of plant genes to distribution of food is nothing like it has ever been. This affects everyone. You are what you eat, but do you know what you are eating?

Up through WWII, nearly everyone had direct involvement with some part of their food source: victory gardens, a family chicken flock, a milk cow or in urban areas, a milk goat. Traditionally, most people had slaughtered a pig or weeded a turnip patch. Now our meat is in plastic wrapped styrofoam, our vegetables are in tin cans, and our dairy is in plastic tubs with an inner plastic seal. If you asked someone to help you weed the cole crops, you'd first be asked 'what are cole crops?' and next, 'which are the weeds?'

My first encounter with politics was when I was in 4th grade. We learned about hungry and homeless people. My practical and simplistic 9 year old solution was to plant fruit trees on the side of the roads instead of maples, vegetables in front of banks instead of geraniums. I wrote a letter to the mayor with my idea. He wrote me back. He said it was a nice idea but it would be too messy, too difficult and attract the wrong sorts to the area. I thought he was stupid and mean. If people are hungry, plant some food.

Looking back 3 decades I was probably considered a radical brat by the adults. But me, I was speaking from experience. My grandparents, who lived in Des Moines, Iowa, used every bit of dirt on their small urban plot to plant food: vegetables, a couple of fruit trees and bushes. My grandmother made jams and jellies galore; she canned and pickled the extra veggies. My grandfather spent his summer weekends fishing. All the catch was eaten fresh, frozen or pickled. The scales and guts were put in the compost. Nothing was wasted. They were poor but not hungry.

From my childhood in the 70s to young adulthood in the 80s I saw a lot of change with food. Fruit and vegetables lost their flavour. Meat came prepacked in plastic; no longer would you ask the butcher behind the counter for a certain cut and wait while he carved it out for you. Eventually, I stopped eating meat. It was too antiseptic, too removed from its reality of a previously living creature.

How does feminism come in, you're wondering. Well, gardening has traditionally been the domain of women, and in many cultures, farming was and/or is women's work. The vast majority of literature on gardening is by women. In 1913, women founded the Garden Club of America. There are smaller local garden clubs all across this country. Many of these clubs have worked hard to plant extra for the hungry and homeless, worked in revitalizing urban environments and creating cross-cultural dialogues. Women have been associated with gardens forever: witch's walled off gardens in fairy tales, colonial healing herb gardens, secret escape gardens and simple, functional cottage gardens. It's apparent that there is a lot of power in growing. Currently, corporations are attempting to take control of this power in the owning/patenting of life. Now to the point of proposing laws to control seed production, which will make it illegal for any farmer or gardener in the USA or Canada to save seed from any plants that he or she grows. It's money, power and control versus growth, preservation and freedom. In Bremmer's 'provisional Iraqi constitution', a clause is added for US ownership of all Iraqi seed from the farmer's crops. This war has more facets than bloodshed and oil.

With all that, here's this issue's situation. I have an extra rooster. He's gone from randy to mean. Just this week, he was renamed 'Dinner'. It's not an easy decision. For one thing, since I don't eat meat, he's not my dinner. A friend of mine is taking him. He'll be doing the slaughter, gutting and plucking. He's acknowledging the reality of the rooster's death in a way most eaters won't. Dinner is the fate of many farm animals, in particular, the male. Guys are barely needed in the farm cycle. It's tough luck.

There are a lot of extra roosters born to this world. Half of all hatched chicks are boys. As the birds mature, the girls eventually lay eggs, the boys crow and rape. Cocks are unnecessary for egg production, only for hatchable eggs. And the sex life of chickens isn't gentle. When the cockerel's hormones first act up, they do funny dances to attract the ladies. They slap their wing to the ground and hop on 1 leg in circles. The girls ignore them. The next phase is jumping on the backs of the girls. The first couple of times the girls let them because they have no idea what the boy is up to. Once they've experienced a bit of male behaviour, they spend a few weeks running away every time a cockerel starts slapping his wing on the ground. So, the boy, not one to give up easy, learns to grab the girl by the nape of her neck, dig his claws into her upper wings so she can't escape and screw her. Is this the maturation point of a cockerel to a cock? Some roosters are a bit more graceful in the art of mating and the girls don't mind, occasionally crouching down into position for a gentleman. Other roosters are just rough and the hens flee on sight. As these men get older, they get bigger and meaner. They grow spurs for attacking other animals, including humans. This is the stage my rooster became Liability on his way to Dinner. He flew up and attacked my mom in the chest when she let everyone out of the coop.

It's a bit sad and a bit confusing. Like I said, I don't eat meat myself. He's an absolutely gorgeous bird. But when I see how he treats the women in his life, I'm appalled. Basically, he's a big, brutish rapist and the girls are terrified of him. My hens are run ragged by him, I'm worried about his visiting my neighbour's to chase their kids, and generally, don't want a mean spirited 12 pound bird disrupting the coop. There's nothing worse than a flogging rooster.

What is a good ratio of males to females for a coop? None are needed for egg laying. For a fertile coop, about 1 rooster to 10 hens. That leaves 90% extra. What does one do with all these guys, eating feed, taking up space and harassing women. It does make one reconsider eating habits. A chicken factoid: Most fryers and roasters are cockerels; most soup and reconstituted/shredded chicken is worn out laying hens.

For those of you considering chickens, you're on a hip trend on a par with knitting. Traditionally, the flock was the farm wife's responsibility. She cared for the birds, in return, keeping the 'egg money' she made at market. Chicks have become chic- even urban chic. In many cities it's okay to keep a couple of hens. If you've never eaten a fresh egg, (most eggs are weeks old when reaching market) you're missing out. The yolks are a hearty, marigold yellow whilst the whites are perky and firm. Taking care of a couple hens is simple. A small covered coop for protection from the wind and the rain, a nest box to lay, an outdoor run for fresh air, water, food and you've got eggs! Chickens are about as complicated as keeping a cat. It is nice to have at least 2 or 3 since cliquing and flocking is their nature. A lone hen is a depressed bird. A couple great sources for chicken raising information are: "Keep Chickens", by Barbara Kilarski, madcitychickens.com, and mcmurrayhatchery.com.

For those with space restrictions, don't fret! There are wee bantams not much bigger than a pigeon who lay mini eggs. The varieties, colours and sizes of chickens are endless. Visit feathersite.com for extensive breed information. You can rescue a 'spent' hen from a production line. Hens are considered soup after 2 years because their egg production is down from daily to every other day. There's a good chance she'll be laying till she's 6 or 7 or even 10. As a girl ages, she lays less often but the eggs get larger. Eventually when she runs out of eggs, a hen can even turn into a rooster! ayup. It's called spontaneous sex change. It happens when estrogen production is disrupted through old age, illness or trauma. The next moult, she grows rooster plumage and starts to crow. A young bird can revert back to egg laying hen status if she recovers her estrogen. There was even a girl burned at the stake in 1472 accused of being a witch for cross dressing, crowing and then laying an egg. (I do not make this up).

Well, I hope I've tickled your thinking about our feathered working girls!