Category Archives: Agriculture

Farming over the Edge:Little Wing Farm makes light footprints

 

By Steve Quirt

Anybody who has small-farmed for an actual living, and not a hobby, understands the amount of endurance and pure sweat this requires. For very little profit: think Silicon Valley largess versus what a few acres of small farm operation will reward its stewards. To be blunt, don’t go into small farming if you want to make a lot of money (yes there are always rare exceptions), go into tech or stock trading. So why do small farmers do it?

There are all the media stereotypes about Joe Small Farmer and a kind of Whole Foods imagined farmer with his overalls and old tractor. Maybe there are a few of those fellows lingering about, but most of them you will never see because they are too busy farming and surviving. So what draws individuals to the lifestyle?

I find the small farming niche of agriculture fascinating. This is where the most diverse and interesting stories are to be told. Often I find adventurers and innovators—dedicated and passionately motivated men and women—who continue the sacred task of producing food with care and personal attention, often at brutally imbalanced odds.

[subhead] Little Wing Farm

 

Good small farms have a healthy vibrancy about them that you can almost taste. Small farms reflect the personality of the farmer, like Little Wing Farm, tucked into the back-end of the old Saint Anthony’s Farm site near Bloomfield—coastal, wet, cool and diverse. Molly Myerson is the farmer. She partners with Christian Ciazzo in Point Reyes Station and supplies Stellina Restaurant with fresh, local organic produce from the farm.

 

For the last twoyears Molly has spent the major portion of her life building up this little farm that is becoming more integrated and interesting each day. The current burst of energy is coming with the addition of more quail eggs, which Molly will hatch into chicks. She is building her flock up to provide quail eggs to restaurants in the City, along with Stellina. Molly is approaching expert status on quail.

 

In addition to the quail egg enterprise Molly is boosting her fresh strawberry production with the addition of 1000 feet of new raised beds at the top of the Ranch next to the Farm Stand. She and her helper, Sara Sternberg, put in the beds with a rototiller and a lot of hand digging.

The old architectural signage from St. Anthony’s now shelters the Farm Stand which offers fresh seasonal veggies with a self serve and pay system. This increasingly popular roadside honor system business model works well and allows the farmer to be away.

[subhead] A Little Help from your Friends

 

One morning I stopped by Little Wing Farm and watched Molly and Sara doing the work of three laborers. These girls were grinding it out and sweating. I stopped by the next day and they were still at it. I calculate that it will take a full week of two person labor (I emphasize the word, “labor”) to finish these beds. There is technology available that do the beds, lay the drips and install plastic mulch all in one pass. Usually, the small scale of Little Wing Farm makes that scale of tractor work economically impossible, but Molly and Sara have borrowed a tractor that lays the plastic mulch from a neighboring farmer.

 

“Michael Collins is going to lend us his tractor that lays the drip and plastic mulch once we finish making and shaping the beds by hand. Small farmers, especially new ones, are aided greatly by the generosity and experience of older more established farmers who share equipment and knowledge.” Molly told me.

She has been able to sell most of what she grows to the nearby San Francisco restaurant culture and her partnership with Stellina is a strong one, so her sales are getting healthier. She is growing the farm slowly and steadily. Her main concerns now are getting the work done and her worker, Sara, has been a big part of the plan. Two is always better than one from the overworked small growers point of view.

Finding a place to farm is hard to do around here. You need tillable land, water, fencing, outbuildings for working storage and a packing area. Creative working arrangements are needed to get the work done and there are workers like Sara who are perfect fit in a place like Little Wing. Molly is lucky to have her friend on-board as labor is always a big issue for small farms.

Regulatory restrictions, insurance issues, and lingering cultural prejudices make living on farm expensive in the Bay Area, and is one of the issues that needs to be addressed practically. The exact nature of how these micro-farms work is completely out-of-sync with regulations and laws designed for and by big Ag.

 

Farms like Little Wing look idyllic from the road, but big insecurities come with the vision; land leases can be broken or not renewed on a whim, labor is always a concern and comes with huge regulatory blandishments, markets can change abruptly and there is almost universally no reserve capital to suffer setbacks. No health insurance. A bad year will wipe you out.

I asked both Sara and Molly why they put up with all this. Here are their replies.

Molly Myerson: “Of course I have intellectual reasons why I choose to farm but what keeps me coming back day after day is something more fundamental. It’s about the actual joy I receive from tending this land, watching things grow and ripen under my hand. The partnership with plants and animals to create food has a deeply satisfying feedback loop. I guess I need the relationship with the land, quail, and the farm. It feels real. And I like the direct reward. I work to grow food to support myself, and that fells good. It feels right. That’s what I care about.”

Sara Sternberg: “For me, it’s about reconciliation. I have deep beliefs, and this kind of work fulfills what I believe in. I have been able to reconcile my beliefs with the way I live.”

 

 

Farming over the Edge

Agriculture: Place, people and agronomy

By Steve Quirt

Today, Marin is know as a progressive and well off place with a knack for being ahead of the curve on most things. The Prince of Wales came here and enjoyed the organic farms and lifestyle that we have nurtured. Today, we make award winning cheese and support a premier organic milk industry. Our vegetable farms are organic. All this and more has occurred in last fifteen years as Marin agriculture emerged from a period of dairy closings, generational succession fears and changing population patterns to a Renaissance of agricultural relevance. We have the right attitude about agriculture here, even as we squabble. And as “consumers” we are interested in local, healthy organic food and support those who grow it. How did we get here? Why Marin? Is this part of our own “sense of place”? How are we connected to our past and those who farmed and harvested before us? How do we compare, here, today, with the first people, the Miwok, in knowing our sense of place and how to get our sustenance from the land without harm? How did the first European settlers use this place? What was their sense of place? Today, what is our “sense of place”, especially in regards to agriculture?
Place

Place provides a home and the resources needed to sustain life for plants animals and people. Place is community. Place is home. Place contains history, the known and the unknown, the tracks and stories of those who came before, the possibilities and expectations for the future, the energy for the challenges of today. People inhabit and are a product of place, at some level.

Before the Europeans arrived here in California, the first people were rooted in their sense of place, were coauthors of their place, and were inseparable from their place—their sustenance, agronomy and culture were rooted in place. They were one with it. I like to use this as a base line to look at the history of our agriculture: a people in relative balance with their place.

Native American Horticulture

17,000 – 12,000 years ago: anthropologists like to use these dates to mark the migrations from north east Asia. But who knows how long ago and how far away the early travelers came? Conventional history says that the Coast Miwok were the first people to inhabit Marin, but it is likely that different peoples have lived and eaten here. The settling of pre-history California may have been strung out over the centuries. Migrations and explorations by historically “early” humans found Marin a land filled with rich and abundant resources, and made it their “place”.

Humans have been here in Marin growing, harvesting and managing the landscape for a long time. Here is what M. Kat Anderson says in her book “Tending the Wild: Native American Knowledge and the Management of California’s Natural Resources”,

California Indians protected and tended favored plant species and habitats, harvested plant and animal products at carefully worked out frequencies and intensities, and practiced an array of horticultural techniques. Through coppicing, pruning, harrowing, sowing, weeding, burning, digging, thinning and selective harvesting, they encouraged desired characteristics of individual plants, increased populations of useful plants, and altered the structures and compositions of plant communities. Regular burning of many types of vegetation across the state created better habitat for game, eliminated brush, minimized the potential for catastrophic fires, and encouraged a diversity of food crops. These harvest and management practices, on the whole, allowed for sustainable harvest of plants over centuries and possibly thousands of years. In other words, California Indians were able to harvest the food and basketry and construction materials they needed each year while conserving—and sometimes increasing—the plant populations from which they came.

That is a pretty good definition of sustainability. California Indians were able to harvest the food and basketry and construction materials they needed each year while conserving—and sometimes increasing—the plant populations from which they came.

A study of California Indigenous people tells us that they lived a lifestyle well balanced with the plants, animals and human neighbors with which they shared the earth. Kat Anderson reminds us in her book that things weren’t always so well balanced and that large animal extinction probably occurred and it took a few thousand years to get a sustainable food system going that actually improved the landscape. It is interesting to note that these people had a different concept of land ownership, food supplies and getting along than we have today. For instance, a dispute over who harvests or doesn’t harvest oysters from Drakes Estero would be solved by local discussion and need, rather than an arcane, unknowable source located on the other side of a continent.

Centuries of intimate relationship with place endowed the indigenous people with a respect and earth-partnership that began to fade with the influx of Spanish settlers whose linear systems of ownership and economic measurement were so foreign to the first peoples. The beginnings of the native population degradation came with the military-like installation of the Spanish Missions, transforming the garden-like landscapes of California into Rancheros and Haciendas. The Missions were modeled after the Roman Empire outposts that dotted the Old World like beads on an Imperialistic necklace, with full garrisons of Spanish troops. The missionaries and soldiers quickly the native cultures, thus greatly demising the Indians long cultivated sense of place.

It took the Spanish a few hundred years to change the natural gardens of the Native Peoples into cleanly divided parcels on maps with all the baggage of ownership and protection. The caretakers of the land were slowly colonized and removed from their centuries old systems of natural management, and a more European styled form of agriculture began to emerge.

Despite its primitive nature, mission agriculture flourished. In 1821, California’s harvest peaked 120,000 bushels of wheat; by 1834, livestock totaled 400,000 head. With achievements in stock raising, grain growing, and irrigated orchards and gardens, the missions demonstrated a wide range of agricultural possibilities. – Seeds of Change: the Beginnings of California Agriculture David Zuckermann

Change comes

The invaders brought with them their European Old World models of agriculture—cattle, grain, irrigation, rows and mono cropping, personal ownership and wealth. This more aggressive and intense use of the land opened up a fertility paradise to the early Spanish agriculturists, who mined the seemingly endless natural wealth easily, never suspecting that the bounties they enjoyed were directly linked to centuries of careful labor and nurturing by the people they were enslaving.

In 1835 the Spanish government shut down its mission system and auctioned off the lands it had usurped to settlers; meaning rich, elite individuals and loyal military personnel who wanted the resources to develop business ventures like cattle and grain. Hides, tallow and wheat were shipped from San Francisco and there was a brisk trade with the East Coast. The shipping culture brought with it even more modernizations that began to put pressure on the native peoples and their landscape. The seeds of modern California agriculture were being sown, and the new was rapidly altering the sense of place. Marin was no exception. By the time of California Statehood, the local Miwok had become Vaqueros herding Spanish cattle to the Sierra Gold mines to feed the burgeoning population of immigrating miners and fortune hunters.

The Gold Rush had arrived.

Published November 2014

Next: The history of Marin Agriculture: Butter, milk and family farming

 

Farming Over the Edge

European-style agriculture settles in

By Steve Quirt

European-style agriculture is a system of production that combines domesticated animals, grains, tillage and irrigation. Cattle, pigs, sheep and goats, all with Old World ancestry, were imported to a new, cultured landscape along with the accompanying Old World grains: wheat, oats, and barley – the grains were grown as fodder for livestock. The first plows to break up the Tomales hillsides did so to plant oats and barley to empower the same draught horses to plow again to plant potatoes. This rotation could be done without irrigation and fertilization due to the rich topsoil and seasonal rainfall patterns.

By the turn of the century, the county was spotted with small, 50-cow dairies and creameries processing fresh milk into butter that was shipped to the exploding market of San Francisco.

Certainly, the market existed. Demand in the rapidly growing city was so great that the inferior butter from South America and the East Coast was still being imported. But this product was no comparison to the Point Reyes standards. As one contemporary journalist reported, “…the grass growing in the fields on Monday is the butter on the city tables on Sunday.” – Marin County Agricultural Commissioner’s Office

 

Marin grasslands were being used to provide a specialized foodstuff to an expanding consumer base. Welcome to specialty marketing!
 Early sustainability

 

The Marshall brothers were the first to begin ranching and dairying in Marin, and the operation is still going strong today, run by Gary Thornton and his daughter Marissa. Gary showed me the old machinery boneyard once, with the cast-iron frames and weathered oak parts, explaining that “in the old days” they grew barley, lots of barley, for feed. They had a combine, thrasher and bundler, and everything needed to be self-sufficient in feed production.

In the early days of Marin agriculture, agriculturists could support as many head of cattle or sheep as they could feed from the land. Seasonal dry land grazing required that the operators put up hay, silage or grain for the months when there was no rain and dwindling forage. There was little to none of the practice of importing feed that is common today. Herd sizes then were much smaller than today and the rich grasslands provided most of what they needed to thrive with a minimum of imported feed.

The dairies of yesterday were seasonal: that means that the cows were milked about 10 months of the year, then everyone took two months off, sort of, until the calves were all born in February and milk production began again with the new season’s forage. They called it single-milking herd management, and this allowed them to synchronize the nutritional needs of the herd with seasonal pasture growth, thus maximizing available on-farm feed, synchronizing calving, and managing the herd as a singular unit.

Seasonal dairying is easier on the land, the cows, and the dairymen than the modern style of year-round production that often involves milking two, or sometimes three times a day year round. High-volume production dairies like the big ones in the Central Valley milk 5,000 cows or more a few times a day to “maximize” production. The largest dairy herds in the U.S. approach 15,000 cows. These conditions don’t exist in Marin where average herd sizes are about 400 cows.

 

SUBHEAD: The ‘Green Revolution’

 

Chemical fertilizer changed everything. Now you could squeeze production out of the land and you didn’t need animals to supply fertility. Manures became a liability, rather than a necessary resource. The rapidly developing science of pesticide and herbicide applications eliminated the need for careful management practices of crops like alfalfa. All the farmer had to do was pay and spray. And be forever at the mercy of the chemical suppliers.

 

****FORMATTING NOTE: Indent and italicize next paragraph

 

The Green Revolution refers to a series of research, and development, and technology transfer initiatives, occurring between the 1940s and the late 1960s, that increased agricultural production worldwide, particularly in the developing world, beginning most markedly in the late 1960s. The initiatives, led by Norman Borlaug, the ‘Father of the Green Revolution’ credited with saving over a billion people from starvation, involved the development of high-yielding varieties of cereal grains, expansion of irrigation infrastructure, modernization of management techniques, distribution of hybridized seeds, synthetic fertilizers, and pesticides to farmers. – Wikipedia

 

Suddenly worldwide production of industrial-styled farming took off and the whole nature of agriculture entered a new stage – hyper-production fueled by petroleum and extraction. The great feeding of the masses had begun. Cheap, petroleum-based fertilizers and pesticides drove imported feed costs down, allowing ranchers to contain more and more cows in one location. The hay trucks came, and the increasingly confined dairy herds grew in size. No longer did producers need to link production to the capacity of the land. The dairy herds became too big to live off the land. The current economies of production demanded larger herd sizes just to stay in business and keep up with mega-dairies developing in the Central Valley.

The new agriculture no longer depended on place. It depended on petroleum. It became cheaper to import feed than to grow it.

By 1970, Agriculture in Marin was pretty much dairy, beef and sheep. Things were sleepy and the status quo was a monotonous cloud over farming. It was then that the seeds of change were sown. A new population of agriculturists was forming – the organic, local, diversified and experimental guys were arriving, and a revival was in the works. Pioneers and explorers were incubating. Albert Straus was just off to college to learn about organic production. Warren Weber was getting ready to bring draught-horse organic farming to Bolinas. Sue Conley was cooking at Che Pannisse, and David Evans was in High School.
ENDING SUBHEAD: Next: Back to Eden

 

 

Farming Over the Edge
MAINHEAD: European-style agriculture settles in
By Steve Quirt
European-style agriculture is a system of production that combines domesticated animals, grains, tillage and irrigation. Cattle, pigs, sheep and goats, all with Old World ancestry, were imported to a new, cultured landscape along with the accompanying Old World grains: wheat, oats, and barley – the grains were grown as fodder for livestock. The first plows to break up the Tomales hillsides did so to plant oats and barley to empower the same draught horses to plow again to plant potatoes. This rotation could be done without irrigation and fertilization due to the rich topsoil and seasonal rainfall patterns.
By the turn of the century, the county was spotted with small, 50-cow dairies and creameries processing fresh milk into butter that was shipped to the exploding market of San Francisco.

****FORMATTING NOTE: Indent and italicize next paragraph
Certainly, the market existed. Demand in the rapidly growing city was so great that the inferior butter from South America and the East Coast was still being imported. But this product was no comparison to the Point Reyes standards. As one contemporary journalist reported, “…the grass growing in the fields on Monday is the butter on the city tables on Sunday.” – Marin County Agricultural Commissioner’s Office

Marin grasslands were being used to provide a specialized foodstuff to an expanding consumer base. Welcome to specialty marketing!
SUBHEAD: Early sustainability

The Marshall brothers were the first to begin ranching and dairying in Marin, and the operation is still going strong today, run by Gary Thornton and his daughter Marissa. Gary showed me the old machinery boneyard once, with the cast-iron frames and weathered oak parts, explaining that “in the old days” they grew barley, lots of barley, for feed. They had a combine, thrasher and bundler, and everything needed to be self-sufficient in feed production.
In the early days of Marin agriculture, agriculturists could support as many head of cattle or sheep as they could feed from the land. Seasonal dry land grazing required that the operators put up hay, silage or grain for the months when there was no rain and dwindling forage. There was little to none of the practice of importing feed that is common today. Herd sizes then were much smaller than today and the rich grasslands provided most of what they needed to thrive with a minimum of imported feed.
The dairies of yesterday were seasonal: that means that the cows were milked about 10 months of the year, then everyone took two months off, sort of, until the calves were all born in February and milk production began again with the new season’s forage. They called it single-milking herd management, and this allowed them to synchronize the nutritional needs of the herd with seasonal pasture growth, thus maximizing available on-farm feed, synchronizing calving, and managing the herd as a singular unit.
Seasonal dairying is easier on the land, the cows, and the dairymen than the modern style of year-round production that often involves milking two, or sometimes three times a day year round. High-volume production dairies like the big ones in the Central Valley milk 5,000 cows or more a few times a day to “maximize” production. The largest dairy herds in the U.S. approach 15,000 cows. These conditions don’t exist in Marin where average herd sizes are about 400 cows.

SUBHEAD: The ‘Green Revolution’

Chemical fertilizer changed everything. Now you could squeeze production out of the land and you didn’t need animals to supply fertility. Manures became a liability, rather than a necessary resource. The rapidly developing science of pesticide and herbicide applications eliminated the need for careful management practices of crops like alfalfa. All the farmer had to do was pay and spray. And be forever at the mercy of the chemical suppliers.

****FORMATTING NOTE: Indent and italicize next paragraph

The Green Revolution refers to a series of research, and development, and technology transfer initiatives, occurring between the 1940s and the late 1960s, that increased agricultural production worldwide, particularly in the developing world, beginning most markedly in the late 1960s. The initiatives, led by Norman Borlaug, the ‘Father of the Green Revolution’ credited with saving over a billion people from starvation, involved the development of high-yielding varieties of cereal grains, expansion of irrigation infrastructure, modernization of management techniques, distribution of hybridized seeds, synthetic fertilizers, and pesticides to farmers. – Wikipedia

Suddenly worldwide production of industrial-styled farming took off and the whole nature of agriculture entered a new stage – hyper-production fueled by petroleum and extraction. The great feeding of the masses had begun. Cheap, petroleum-based fertilizers and pesticides drove imported feed costs down, allowing ranchers to contain more and more cows in one location. The hay trucks came, and the increasingly confined dairy herds grew in size. No longer did producers need to link production to the capacity of the land. The dairy herds became too big to live off the land. The current economies of production demanded larger herd sizes just to stay in business and keep up with mega-dairies developing in the Central Valley.
The new agriculture no longer depended on place. It depended on petroleum. It became cheaper to import feed than to grow it.
By 1970, Agriculture in Marin was pretty much dairy, beef and sheep. Things were sleepy and the status quo was a monotonous cloud over farming. It was then that the seeds of change were sown. A new population of agriculturists was forming – the organic, local, diversified and experimental guys were arriving, and a revival was in the works. Pioneers and explorers were incubating. Albert Straus was just off to college to learn about organic production. Warren Weber was getting ready to bring draught-horse organic farming to Bolinas. Sue Conley was cooking at Che Pannisse, and David Evans was in High School.
Next: Back to Eden

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Farming Over the Edge

 

 

Fawning over the Gentle Miwok

By Steve Quirt

 

A reader of this newspaper commented that I drone on and on, in a sentimental cloud of naive admiration, about the “gentle Miwok” that die at age 37… The reader is correct in his criticism, and I thank him for pointing this out—I may have failed to get my point across clearly so let me explain with a minimum of droning on and on.

 

It’s not about the Miwok and other California Native American cultures specifically—it’s about their deeply rooted, productive and balanced culture of feeding themselves and keeping their environment clean. There are powerful lessons embedded in their extinct practices. Today, we are operating at the extreme opposite position in all aspects of this and it is a global condition.

 

“You can’t address climate change without fixing agriculture, you can’t fix health without improving diet, you can’t improve diet without addressing income, and so on. The production, marketing and consumption of food is key to nearly everything. (It’s one of the keys to war, too, because large-scale agriculture is dependent on control of global land, oil, minerals and water.)” Mark Bittman NYT January 20, 2015

 

There is something happening here, but you don’t know what is, Do you Mr. Jones? (to quote Bob Dylan). Who controls what you eat? You could argue that most of our time is linked to efforts to secure food. Like the hunter gatherers, most folks work to “put food on the table”, or to “make ends meet”, or to “pay the bills.” This is where the majority of people are today—working all the time to just eat. The newest scary data says that 80 (eighty) people control 46% of the “wealth” of the world, which makes it harder for the rest of us to “buy” our food. Not everyone lives a Marin County lifestyle. The point Mark Bittman makes is that everything happening today, especially on the global scale, is founded on a harmful, or even suicidal system of greedy overproduction and control of our food by industrial finance moguls. How far from the around a planet does food need to travel to be eaten? These are burning issues, and it is getting harder and harder to ignore them.

 

I was once a graphic designer with a busy, successful studio. Sometimes we would get snarled up with a design project that wasn’t working. The more we tinkered with the design, trying to salvage it to justify the time already invested, the worse it got, the uglier it became. When this happened, we had a strategy of trashing the wasted hours of work, sacrificing conference and studio time to the design gods, and start over with the simplest design possible. Why work with broken tools and dirty windows? It always worked. The old had to be replaced with something new, clean, functional. The system that we live under today doesn’t work, and if you argue that it does, you haven’t done your research—or you are not living in the same world as billions of your brothers and sisters. We have a right to be concerned. We need to start with a new, fresh, morally upright design that feeds “need”, instead of serving “greed”. Sound idealist and frothy? Just try it.

 

To bring healthy, innocent (yes, this sounds dreamy and idealist) food from land to mouth in a practical fashion in an environmentally sound way is nearly impossible today. There is no economic gain in operating like this—the forces of greed and control make feeding mouths without the profit incentive impossible to do without confrontation with the entrenched, self-centered Establishment. Ask small farmers, those who have managed to survive, about their scramble to keep going off of something beside idealism and the desire to live a meaningful lifestyle. To play you need to pay.

 

Where are we headed when people are economically, politically and culturally cut off from the ability feed themselves on a local level? A few lucky ones from privileged backgrounds are able to do this, but visit a local food bank and talk to some of those folks. There are way more souls in line than souls doing fine, and this is the new reality.

 

The perennial, boring question remains, “What are we going to do about this?” This is worth a good long, think. How do we mesh this most basic of activities, from earth to plate, with the crazy world that we create and sustain? Is it even worth the time to consider? I mean really consider? The evidence is piling up, day by day. Watching polar ice caps melt into the oceans may be interesting to see on the science channel, and it’s fun to explore carbon credit trading, but the soft focus and the intellectual distance of these abstract efforts mask the deeper pain and fear of what we are doing to the planet and ourselves. This won’t last. Here is the question I ask myself about every action I perform, 24-7:

Does this act support my inner understanding of truth and fairness?

 

If it doesn’t, what am I going do about it?

 

If I resist, truly resist down to the roots of my belief, am I willing to act?

 

Most poignantly, am I willing to pay the price to stand up for my deepest conviction?

 

This kind of focused analysis automatically casts us into the deeper meanings of our choices. I think the Buddha would approve of this kind of introspection, this sharpened attention on what we are really doing with each action. Actions build on themselves and launch more actions thus perpetuating both thinking and action. Once again we hear the Buddha say,

 

1. All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a selfish thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage.

 

2. All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a selfless thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.

 

That is a pretty good argument for the power to change, for the power to act effectively to help change our collective direction. Think about it, and I promise, no more Miwok sentimentalism.