The life and endeavours of Peter Vido

Cuban Cigar at Midnight, New Year 2016

Peter Vido wrote the following 'bio' in 2017 as part of some emails he sent to potential collaborators in Central and South America. In recent years, he made great efforts to reach small farmers around the world to help them realize the benefits of scythe-based forage cutting and haymaking techniques when their animals would otherwise not be getting enough nutrition throughout the year. In this realm, Peter and his family have learned how to do what might seem impossible: In a place with only 85 frost-free days per year, and seven months of vegetative dormancy, their cows, goats, and sheep (dozens of them) have thrived on a strictly home-grown diet consisting of only hay (along with what's foraged from the pasture). This diet was the norm for their ruminants for about 20 years. The 'secret' is revealed below.



Born and raised in Slovakia, I emigrated to Canada in 1968. In 1974, after graduating from university (where I met my wife), we decided to throw away our paper diplomas (in biology and environmental studies, respectively) and put our lives' energy to what we thought of as 'more real' endeavors. By then we came to believe that small scale agriculture (rather than agro-industry) has long been the backbone of all civilizations, and that it is likely to remain so for many generations to come.

In line with that view, we chose the existence of small farmers, living in a very 'alternative-to-mainstream' manner, and more than 40 years later, we are still just that -- the remnants of the western world's 'peasants', so to speak, practicing an approach to agriculture we perceive as a sensible alternative to the modern (corporate-agenda-oriented) technological solutions to small farmers' challenges. For over 20 of those years we farmed 'our' 80 acres of fields and pastures using draft horses as the source of motive power. Our 16x24 foot cabin in which we raised 3 children is still 'off grid'.

Since 1998, our family's activism focused on the international advocacy of an 'ancient' (two millennia old) forage harvesting implement -- the scythe. In this field we have gained notable reputation both in the realm of design and technique, and have inspired numerous improvements at production level, globally. NONE of this involvement has been with 'entrepreneurial'/business/monetary goals in mind. Instead, we have been the (sometimes begrudged) watchdog/critic of the way this tool has been promoted and marketed during the recent years of internet-based mail order service...

From the beginnings of our 'career' as farmers and all along, our life has been intimately intertwined in co-existence with many domesticated animals (sheep, goats, cows, horses and donkeys -- all of which we maintained a breeding group of, rather than a few individuals). Our aim was to learn how to feed them well on a home-grown diet. And though we live in a climatic zone with only 85 frost-free days, we can (and we used to) grow enough concentrated carbohydrates (grains) to meet their nutritional needs according to dictates of modern science on animal nutrition. However, at some long-ago point in our experience, we came to question the wisdom of that approach... and gradually altered our strategy. 

Consequently, for perhaps 20 of the recent years, our ruminants have grown fat and produced plenty of milk on purely 'roughage' -- meaning only home-grown hay during the nearly 7 months of vegetative dormancy, and pasture during the rest of the year (still supplemented with home-grown hay ad lib. whenever the pasture is too lush or too wet from rain. This 'husbandry touch' is particularly appreciated by goats, as we determined by countless tests of milk yields over the years). 

The 'secret' here is that -- quality wise -- the sort of hay we have learned how to make, we could not very well buy anywhere in Canada. The technology we employ to do so is the same, in principle, as was used by peasants of old Europe for centuries before crude oil and combustion engines were discovered (and when grains were too precious to use as feed for cows). However, once haymaking became mechanized (and already during the period of Western horse-powered agriculture), a portion of the leafy contents of the hay was often lost, thus reducing its nutritional potential.

Of course, the modern science of animal nutrition came up with "dairy rations" (and other conveniences served from a bag). But how long -- we had asked 30+ years ago -- can such a 'welfare system' continue...? And is it even implementable, on the broad scale, in the so called 'developing/poor' regions of the globe? We do not think so.

Given that stand (along with the many years of experience in that regard), what I believe we now have to offer to the campesinos anywhere are some useful hints on how to provide better nutrition, particularly for ruminants, by utilizing the natural vegetation, harvested locally, at the most favourable stage composition-wise) using relatively 'sustainable'/'intermediate' technology.

Haymaking has been sorely overlooked as a method of potential nourishment in practically all tropical regions. As profiled in FAO publication "Hay and Straw Conservation (for small scale farming and pastoral conditions)", within the last couple of decades some changes have been taking place in this respect, but they as yet not broadly communicated. Besides (going by the stated cutting output per man per day -- the single most costly step in the process), both the tool and the techniques in most of the recorded case histories can be improved. This I have NO doubt about, and if given the opportunity, I can settle the issue ('prove' it) rather quickly... 

Well, I'd better shut up now, no? :-)


-- Peter Vido, 2017

Sources:

Text and photo (with donkeys) from correspondence with Peter Vido.

Photo of the Vido family home in New Brunswick appears at Scythe Connection:
http://scytheconnection.com/about-us/

Line-engraving titled Old Father Time of Wiltshire,
by Stanley Anderson, R.A., 1944
Royal Academy of Arts Collection

He is a mower no more.

Peter Vido, 1950 - 2018

By Alexander Vido, originally published by ScytheWorks.

Peter once told me that in some Austrian villages, where haymaking with a scythe was a common practice, they referred to a man’s passing by saying: “He is a mower no more.” Now, six months after we learned about his cancer, with sadness I say: “Peter is a mower no more...” This expression is even more applicable since the scythe became first his passion, then the mission of his life. 

Peter will be missed by his friends and family, especially his wife, Faye, and daughter, Ashley, with whom he shared the care of their land and animals. They selflessly looked after him on the farm till the very end. 

Even though Peter liked to keep his feet on the ground, he was guided by his vision of the bigger picture, and would often neglect the ‘small necessities’ of daily life. I know their lifestyle was often romanticized, but their focus was on meaningful participation in human existence, rather than an idyllic life on the farm. 

A scythe came to Peter’s attention quite innocently, and it soon replaced the horse-drawn sickle mower in their haymaking activities. To better understand the scythe, Peter went directly to the original sources. He travelled to Europe to visit scythe manufacturers, and went to villages to meet with old-timers for whom the scythe was indispensable. He observed the traditional ways the tools were used, and then tested and compared them, seeking the most efficient options. He encouraged others to do likewise. In his view, while some traditions are necessary to sustain a culture, they might also be restrictive, and therefore need to be questioned. He shared his observations with the scythe producers and encouraged them to implement changes to benefit the scythe users. He inspired, organized, and galvanized a new wave of scythe culture in Europe and North America. 

At times Peter was demanding, but what he demanded of others he was always ready to match himself. He had little tolerance for someone misrepresenting the facts, especially for their own personal gain. 

Peter was my instructor when I visited their farm, and later became my mentor when I decided to take the scythe to Nepal and eventually to India. His long-standing intention was to spread the use of scythes as appropriate technology for small farms around the world. At times our approaches may have differed, but we never questioned our shared vision. Since we lived nearly 6000 km apart, at opposite ends of Canada, we would spend countless hours on the phone. He regularly gave me 'tutorials' as we considered designs, discussed techniques, shared experiences, and made plans, looking for a ‘better way’. 

It would not have been an exaggeration to refer to Peter as a ‘Living Scythe Library’. He had the ability to acquire, sort, and store huge amounts of information on the subject, and he was always ready to share it freely. Peter wasn’t a 'simple' farmer. I always thought of him as a visionary intellectual living on a farm, who viewed himself as a steward of the land in his care. 

I will miss my brother greatly...

Peter Vido 1950–2018

Peter Vido — June 10th, 1950 – June 23rd, 2018

[From http://scytheconnection.com/updates/]

“Gramma said when you come on something good, first thing to do is share it with whoever you can find; that way, the good spreads out where no telling it will go. Which is right.”

— from The Education of Little Tree, by Forrest Carter

Many years ago, Peter Vido came upon something good, something he knew right off he had to share.  The more he learned, the more he wanted to share, and continue to learn.  His appreciation and respect for this humble but graceful tool grew, and as he glimpsed the extent of what the scythe has to offer to our battered world, it became his mission to share the Gift of the Scythe with all.  He started down the path of a scythe missionary with no way of knowing where it would lead him or how much he would eventually accomplish.  Though he touched multitudes through his work, he still saw a great deal of unrealized potential.  The burden of responsibility, to share with others the knowledge and wisdom he had gained through the years, weighed heavily on him, yet he carried that burden the best he knew how.  Shrugging at a terminal illness diagnosis, he determinedly continued the work he had begun with more relentless optimism than most of us muster in the face of unrelenting challenges, ignoring his rapidly declining health to give a final push to the humble beginnings of a book project several years in the making, and making one last trip to Europe — where years ago he had earned the lighthearted title “Sensen Papst” (Scythe Pope) — in hopes of inspiring another step towards the scythe renaissance he first envisioned over two decades ago.

Then, early one morning as dawn broke on the other side, he slipped off to more peaceful meadows where scythes inspire only cooperation, not conflict.