Two weeks ago, I packed up 140 packs of my own saved organic seeds, decorated the packages, made some signage, and off I went to Brescia University College's: More Than Just a Book Sale. I didn't know what kind of a response I would get, but shortly after 10am, people stopped at my booth, and well.... the conversations I had with dozens of fellow gardeners! I sold 100 packs of seeds - everything ranging from herbs, flowers, beans, tomatoes, and squash. One lady even rushed by and asked me to put together $20 worth, my choice.
I donated 15 packs of seeds for one of the raffles, and surprisingly, the bucket was full of ballots; people hoping to win a garden in a bag. One lucky winner next spring will have a nice backyard veggie garden! I was happy to help The Circle raise some money.
The big news here in London, of course, is the snow. We had over 100 centimetres in our backyard, which was typical throughout the city. Somewhere underneath all the beautiful white stuff, sleeps my garden. Even the kale was buried. Our friendly woodpecker has been hanging around the bird feeder, and has been watching the last of the sunflower heads that are still poking through the snow.
Merlin and Smokey, our cats, had been looking forlorn out the windows during the snowstorm, but both were really happy when we finally shoveled them a pathway to the composter - 'cause that's where the mice are.
If anyone asks what I'd like for Christmas.... time! Share with me a gift of your time come the spring, because I'll have a newborn baby around May 1st, and come hell or high water, a garden is going in!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Garden put to bed....haha
Another season has passed. Everything is drying out, even the tough oregano. The sunflowers are still tempting the juncos who are hanging around, eating the leftover catnip seeds. I've saved all the morning glory seeds and ripped down the vines to compost in the garden. I've stored all the cedar posts in the shed to keep them dry for the spring, and cleaned all my tools.
The exciting news is that I've registered to be a seed seller at this year's Brescia's: The Circle, More Than Just A Book Sale. I've packaged up over 100 packs of seed and hopefully, I will make a little money. I would like to convert two large squares of my front yard into flower garden in the spring, and this would need some borders and a load of topsoil. By reducing the area I need to cut, is welcome news. And I really think nasturiums and marigolds are more beautiful than just grass.
Wish me luck at the sale!
The exciting news is that I've registered to be a seed seller at this year's Brescia's: The Circle, More Than Just A Book Sale. I've packaged up over 100 packs of seed and hopefully, I will make a little money. I would like to convert two large squares of my front yard into flower garden in the spring, and this would need some borders and a load of topsoil. By reducing the area I need to cut, is welcome news. And I really think nasturiums and marigolds are more beautiful than just grass.
Wish me luck at the sale!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Fall spinach, squash, and seeds
This photo reminds me of Bob Marley's song about three little birds beside his doorstep. These beautiful creatures are yellow finches and they've been hanging around my Italian white sunflowers, my Hopi red dye amaranth, and the cosmos flowers. All the flowers are heavy with seed and it is comical to watch the birds hang on to the stems while dangling to eat the seeds. My cats watch from under the picnic table for a chance to grab a non-mindful birdie.
The fall spinach I planted, Galilee and Long Standing Bloomdale, are about 4 inches high and I will likely be able to start picking in a week. The kale are doing really well too. The squash plants are busy trying to finish growing a few more squash. I planted a single pepper squash this year and it has yielded 6 large squash so far. I let one of the yellow zucchine grow 20 inches long in the hopes of saving some great seed for next year. I'll make yellow zucchini bread with what is left over.
Yesterday, I visited the Farmer's Market in Dorchester Ontario with my Dad, to check out what was offered. And what an amazing surprise! Ten pound bags of onions, carrots and beets for $2. For that price, I stocked up. I have a fairly cool basement, with a potato bin for onions, squash and potatoes, of course!
Lastly, I did use my dehydrator last week for my cherry tomatoes. I cut them in half and it took about 12 hours. I rotated the trays so they'd all dry out evenly. Five pounds of cherry toms became a single bag of tomato raisins. I am storing them in the freezer for good measure. I can toss them in soups and stews over the winter. My bottling efforts have yielded 18 quart-sized bottles of stewed tomatoes and herb sauce. I didn't do any salsa yet, as I figured sauce was more important.
This new photo on this blog was taken in my backyard with a zoomed in look at some of my zebra cherry tomatoes and onion bulbs. Thanks for reading!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Time to dry tomatoes, plan and save seed
It's been about ten days since my last blog posting, and I must say, the tomatoes keep coming. I've been saving them up in bowls on the kitchen table until there's enough to make a batch of sauce to bottle down. Now, it's the cherry tomatoes that I'm experiencing an onslaught of. I have 24 plants in total, but 7 of them are cherries. So, I finally went downstairs and found my dehydrator, and I am going to figure out how to use it. I always thought that the energy costs of running this piece of equipment for 24-36 hours wouldn't be worth it. We'll have to see. It's an older K-Tel model with 7 trays. Dried tomatoes do keep and are delicious if re-hydrated. Or, I can store them in olive oil with some other flavours such as, jalapeno, chili, or garlic. I'll share the outcome when the tomatoes become raisins.
I have also begun the process of sizing things up for the spring. I know that many gardeners sometimes just look to finishing off with the growing season and have a break. I am excited to begin the work of moving my rhubarb and to dig a few new spots for the spring. Bulbs go in now, and I am still working on the front lawn redesign. I would really like to cut my grass cutting in half, and to grow herbs, flowers and a few beautiful edible plants like kale and red swiss chard. A mix of sunflowers never hurt either.
The other half of my kitchen table is covered in seeds. I always feel wealthy when I look at containers of all shapes and sizes full of colourful seeds. It is one of my strategies to develop some kind of resiliency against the wobbly corporate world.
I've been reading several books and on-line articles that suggest that the world is much more at risk than we may realize. It's like the top we've been spinning, and now it is starting to slow down, is wobbling and could go right off the table. Now it is one thing if you don't follow or understand the effects of climate change, chemical exposure and bio-accumulation, soil degradation, water pollution, fossil fuel energy depletion, or nuclear waste. It is another, I believe, to not follow the economic realities that have come to pass from all these things occurring simultaneously. Most of us watch, listen to, or read the main stream news. It is here that we citizens are presented with what is going on. Unfortunately, the connections between things are often not made for us, and as we've become a largely intellectually dependent culture, all these events seem to be mere bullet points and not a flow chart.
Most of us are not in politically powerful positions of influence. But, one thing each of us can do...is to learn. Visit your public library. Learn about soil. Learn about your watershed. Learn where your water comes from, and where your waste goes. Watch documentaries. They can be your best investment of time and effort. Watch "Gasland", or "Dirt: The Movie", or "Food, Inc.", or "The Age of Stupid".
Learning can be a buffer against the noise of commercial distractions. Eat together, have a potluck or dinner party once a week. Drink locally made wine. Buy your meat and vegetables from a local farmer. Insulate your home. Take the bus everyday. Fix your appliances. Support your local pawn shop. Take your hazardous waste to the depot. Don't buy exotic pets - visit a shelter to find someone to love. Go for walks.
It's alot sometimes, but it is worth it. I'm happier for it.
I have also begun the process of sizing things up for the spring. I know that many gardeners sometimes just look to finishing off with the growing season and have a break. I am excited to begin the work of moving my rhubarb and to dig a few new spots for the spring. Bulbs go in now, and I am still working on the front lawn redesign. I would really like to cut my grass cutting in half, and to grow herbs, flowers and a few beautiful edible plants like kale and red swiss chard. A mix of sunflowers never hurt either.
The other half of my kitchen table is covered in seeds. I always feel wealthy when I look at containers of all shapes and sizes full of colourful seeds. It is one of my strategies to develop some kind of resiliency against the wobbly corporate world.
I've been reading several books and on-line articles that suggest that the world is much more at risk than we may realize. It's like the top we've been spinning, and now it is starting to slow down, is wobbling and could go right off the table. Now it is one thing if you don't follow or understand the effects of climate change, chemical exposure and bio-accumulation, soil degradation, water pollution, fossil fuel energy depletion, or nuclear waste. It is another, I believe, to not follow the economic realities that have come to pass from all these things occurring simultaneously. Most of us watch, listen to, or read the main stream news. It is here that we citizens are presented with what is going on. Unfortunately, the connections between things are often not made for us, and as we've become a largely intellectually dependent culture, all these events seem to be mere bullet points and not a flow chart.
Most of us are not in politically powerful positions of influence. But, one thing each of us can do...is to learn. Visit your public library. Learn about soil. Learn about your watershed. Learn where your water comes from, and where your waste goes. Watch documentaries. They can be your best investment of time and effort. Watch "Gasland", or "Dirt: The Movie", or "Food, Inc.", or "The Age of Stupid".
Learning can be a buffer against the noise of commercial distractions. Eat together, have a potluck or dinner party once a week. Drink locally made wine. Buy your meat and vegetables from a local farmer. Insulate your home. Take the bus everyday. Fix your appliances. Support your local pawn shop. Take your hazardous waste to the depot. Don't buy exotic pets - visit a shelter to find someone to love. Go for walks.
It's alot sometimes, but it is worth it. I'm happier for it.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
First Batch of Sauce.....
Over the weekend, while continuously picking an armful of various types of tomatoes each day, I finally committed to bottling them into sauce. I had been weighing my options because I really wanted a sufficient quantity of ripe tomatoes. This process which gets easier every year - involves blanching, peeling, mashing and sauteing with a blend of herbs, onions and garlic, and then sterilizing bottles, filling them with sauce, and finally, the timed water bath. Before I get started, I really contemplate if the 5 hours of work are really worth it. I recognize my laziness and promptly say to myself, "YES it is hard, YES it is a lot of work and there are many stages -- YES, it is worth it!"
So I selected some music CD's that might help get me into more of a domestic mood. I was glad that Madeline Peyroux, some Ella Fitzgerald, and the entire Greatest Hits CD by Fleetwood Mac, would set the tone. Singing while I work makes a difference for me. The bottling process reminds me most of what I miss about my Grandmothers, who sang while they worked. A lifetime of stored memories and experience readily at hand, no reference book required. I find that doing this work alone is not as much fun as doing it with a few other people. Perhaps, I could find a Grandma adoption program so that we both could share in the experience of bottling sauce together.
The bottles are now cool, labelled, and ready to go to the basement shelves that hold all my treasures. I feel wealthy when I look at my modest provisions, dreaming of the many winter dinners where I will not open another bottle of store bought sauce. Besides being able to enjoy the taste of summer in December, I know that my sauce does not contain GMO corn-based thickeners or GMO canola oil. It contains the stored energy of the sun and water, and the promises handed down by heritage tomato growers through the centuries. The locally grown garlic and onions, and the chives, rosemary, parsley, and oregano from outside my backdoor, all married together into a delightful sauce, sweetened with carrots!
The bowlful of cherry tomatoes - zebras, yellow pears and Isis candies, were chopped and tossed into a tabbouleh mix, with a little olive oil. Delicious! And I do remember to share the goodness, so I've made sure to give some ripe tomatoes away. I really believe it is a great gift to give, because so many of us have forgotten what a truly ripe tomato smells and tastes like! Someone needs to create a perfume that smells like fresh tomato plants after a good rain - there really is nothing like it.
So I selected some music CD's that might help get me into more of a domestic mood. I was glad that Madeline Peyroux, some Ella Fitzgerald, and the entire Greatest Hits CD by Fleetwood Mac, would set the tone. Singing while I work makes a difference for me. The bottling process reminds me most of what I miss about my Grandmothers, who sang while they worked. A lifetime of stored memories and experience readily at hand, no reference book required. I find that doing this work alone is not as much fun as doing it with a few other people. Perhaps, I could find a Grandma adoption program so that we both could share in the experience of bottling sauce together.
The bottles are now cool, labelled, and ready to go to the basement shelves that hold all my treasures. I feel wealthy when I look at my modest provisions, dreaming of the many winter dinners where I will not open another bottle of store bought sauce. Besides being able to enjoy the taste of summer in December, I know that my sauce does not contain GMO corn-based thickeners or GMO canola oil. It contains the stored energy of the sun and water, and the promises handed down by heritage tomato growers through the centuries. The locally grown garlic and onions, and the chives, rosemary, parsley, and oregano from outside my backdoor, all married together into a delightful sauce, sweetened with carrots!
The bowlful of cherry tomatoes - zebras, yellow pears and Isis candies, were chopped and tossed into a tabbouleh mix, with a little olive oil. Delicious! And I do remember to share the goodness, so I've made sure to give some ripe tomatoes away. I really believe it is a great gift to give, because so many of us have forgotten what a truly ripe tomato smells and tastes like! Someone needs to create a perfume that smells like fresh tomato plants after a good rain - there really is nothing like it.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Dithering over the squash
It has been hot and humid here in London, Ontario. The perfect conditions for mildew to form on most of the squash leaves. I have read up on many of the suggested organic methods to treat mildew, but sometimes I feel that it might be best to yank the plants out, and settle with the few fruits and vegetables they have produced. I really do try to let one zucchini squash grow nice and big, so I can save the seeds for next year. Yellow zucchini has been more difficult to buy lately. But, the typical organic treatments that I have found to prolong the squash despite having mildew have been a powdered milk spray and a blend of vegetable oil, dish soap and water. Both sprays only last until it rains, and washes them off. The same for a hot pepper and garlic spray for the beans, which have been chewed in spots by some very well fed beetles.
However, tomato blight has yet to appear, and tomato gardeners are leaping with joy. My tomatoes become like children to me, I watch them sprout as seedlings, I water them gently, harden them off in the hot house, transplant into a bed of well composted horse manure, watered with rain water from the barrel, tied up to invite every flower to produce....only to have them fail, withering away, with no sun-ripened gifts. I cried last year.
This weekend, I often stop in my kitchen to admire my collection of heirloom tomatoes. I arrange them like they were flowers, some yellow pears, some zebra cherries, some pink ping pongs, some Siberian Glasnosts, and some moonglows. They are too pretty to eat. But I will. Drizzled with some balsamic vinegar, sesame oil, fresh cracked pepper and Andean pink salt.
While I am dazzled by such beauty, I reflect on the fact that I am indeed becoming the tomato, or does the tomato become me? Brian Swimme Ph.D, asked once when does something become ourselves? When it enters our mouth and is swallowed? When we drink water and it becomes enlivened within us, can it not be alive and 'me' outside my body? The boundaries that we have constructed and reinforce are a false dualism. All the minerals of the soils, the gift of light photons from the sun, the water that fell as rain, and the biotic life all become "tomato" - through ingesting this beautiful food, we literally become our place and ultimately, our planet and universe. Knowing and celebrating this makes me happy, more fulfilled and centered. This is something that I know is real, reliable, and at great risk from our non-fulfilling, industrial worldview.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
World Kitchen Garden Day Aug 22nd ~ Meetup.com
Check out:
http://www.meetup.com/World-Kitchen-Garden-Day/18481/
August 22, 2010 at 2pm
Meet up in my backyard to celebrate World Kitchen Garden Day. Please RSVP on the www.meetup.com site. Bring photos of your garden if you have them. If it rains, it will be cancelled, sorry. But hooray if it rains!
http://www.meetup.com/World-Kitchen-Garden-Day/18481/
August 22, 2010 at 2pm
Meet up in my backyard to celebrate World Kitchen Garden Day. Please RSVP on the www.meetup.com site. Bring photos of your garden if you have them. If it rains, it will be cancelled, sorry. But hooray if it rains!
Hornworms...Amazing and Terrible!
While spending time in my tomato patch, I noticed green tomatoes that had been eaten. Then I saw that the tips of the yellow pear cherry tomatoes were missing. Then I saw the droppings. I knew then that Tomato Hornworms were busy doing their thing. The next step was to find them, the masters of camouflage. I had to sit and adjust my eyes so I could begin to see. With a little patience, I began to see them move and chew. I managed to capture and relocate, across the road to a field, 5 hornworms. They did not seem pleased. However, even if they do not find something else to eat of their liking, they can be a part of the food chain, by becoming lunch for some very lucky birds.
I have picked lots of zucchini, peas bursting out of their pods, and green beans. I am waiting for my cranberry beans to mature, and I have begun to harvest a few pink ping pong cherry tomatoes. Patience though, for I know when the tomatoes start ripening, there will be a flood of juicy, organic tomatoes for bottling and bruschetta. I cannot eat enough fresh brushcetta!
Storing food is often a bit of a dilemma. I do not have a deep freezer. I have only been bottling food. Salsas, tomato sauces and rhubarb jam have mostly been my favourite foods. However, this year I am going to pickle some beets and a green bean salad. Results will be forthcoming.
Storing food is part of my preparedness plan. I understand that our food supply chain is on the edge of a knife. If the cost of oil continues its march toward $100 a barrel, costs are passed on the consumer, and if they go too high, it can affect those of us who live on a modest income. If oil goes to $150-200 a barrel, food importation will likely experience difficulties, thus reducing supply, driving prices up due to continued demand. So, I may need to feed myself, my family, and maybe some neighbours if this happens. So bottling food is part of my insurance against starvation. I know this sounds a bit neurotic, but our 'just in time' delivery systems do not provide urbanites with a good back-up supply. I've read that the typical household has only 7-10 days of food, and our officials state that the government only has a 3 day supply for the entire population. Grain supplies have fallen too. And up until now, knowing that we can rely on our stores as having everything we want and need at our fingertips, has been the norm. But, things can shift on a dime. And I want to try to be moderately prepared for any hardship. I recommend reading Sharon Astyk's book 'Depletion and Abundance'.
Therefore, my seed saving activities are in full swing. My kitchen table is covered with dishes with seeds of all kinds, drying, waiting to be catalogued and stored in the basement for the spring. Wish me luck.
I have picked lots of zucchini, peas bursting out of their pods, and green beans. I am waiting for my cranberry beans to mature, and I have begun to harvest a few pink ping pong cherry tomatoes. Patience though, for I know when the tomatoes start ripening, there will be a flood of juicy, organic tomatoes for bottling and bruschetta. I cannot eat enough fresh brushcetta!
Storing food is often a bit of a dilemma. I do not have a deep freezer. I have only been bottling food. Salsas, tomato sauces and rhubarb jam have mostly been my favourite foods. However, this year I am going to pickle some beets and a green bean salad. Results will be forthcoming.
Storing food is part of my preparedness plan. I understand that our food supply chain is on the edge of a knife. If the cost of oil continues its march toward $100 a barrel, costs are passed on the consumer, and if they go too high, it can affect those of us who live on a modest income. If oil goes to $150-200 a barrel, food importation will likely experience difficulties, thus reducing supply, driving prices up due to continued demand. So, I may need to feed myself, my family, and maybe some neighbours if this happens. So bottling food is part of my insurance against starvation. I know this sounds a bit neurotic, but our 'just in time' delivery systems do not provide urbanites with a good back-up supply. I've read that the typical household has only 7-10 days of food, and our officials state that the government only has a 3 day supply for the entire population. Grain supplies have fallen too. And up until now, knowing that we can rely on our stores as having everything we want and need at our fingertips, has been the norm. But, things can shift on a dime. And I want to try to be moderately prepared for any hardship. I recommend reading Sharon Astyk's book 'Depletion and Abundance'.
Therefore, my seed saving activities are in full swing. My kitchen table is covered with dishes with seeds of all kinds, drying, waiting to be catalogued and stored in the basement for the spring. Wish me luck.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Summer ~ Full Moon in the Garden
Been busy keeping up with all the new developments in the garden. My beet seeds were harvested, winnowed, and are now drying for storage. I cut all the carrot seed heads today. They are all curled up, with their prickly coverings. I had no idea when carrot seeds would be ready. I had to look it up online, only to discover that commercially prepared carrot seeds are processed to remove all remnants of the prickly hairs covering carrot seeds.
Now...I wondered why? I think it is to ease their planting in commercial carrot grower's fields, perhaps because of the seed planting equipment? Adulterated seeds? A carrot seed circumcision? I really like being able to recognize a seed, and to know that it has not been sprayed with an enhancer or a inhibitor....don't you?
A friend had passed an email on to me today indicating that MSG, the flavour enhancer, has begun to be sprayed on more crops. If you have an allergic reaction to MSG, which is a known migraine instigator for many people, shouldn't this be labelled on the foods, along with all the other additives? At least we could make an informed decision whether or not to buy it. This is, of course, the corporate market laissez-faire approach, buyer beware!
So, as I've begun to harvest from the garden, I am documenting exactly how much I do indeed bring in through the back door. Yellow zucchini, green and baseball zucchini, peas, lettuce, beans, spinach, parsley, oregano, chives, and green onions have all been enjoyed for dinner.
And to please the garden gods, I have been offering some classical music, mostly Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The monarch butterflies sitting on the flowers seem to enjoy it!
Now...I wondered why? I think it is to ease their planting in commercial carrot grower's fields, perhaps because of the seed planting equipment? Adulterated seeds? A carrot seed circumcision? I really like being able to recognize a seed, and to know that it has not been sprayed with an enhancer or a inhibitor....don't you?
A friend had passed an email on to me today indicating that MSG, the flavour enhancer, has begun to be sprayed on more crops. If you have an allergic reaction to MSG, which is a known migraine instigator for many people, shouldn't this be labelled on the foods, along with all the other additives? At least we could make an informed decision whether or not to buy it. This is, of course, the corporate market laissez-faire approach, buyer beware!
So, as I've begun to harvest from the garden, I am documenting exactly how much I do indeed bring in through the back door. Yellow zucchini, green and baseball zucchini, peas, lettuce, beans, spinach, parsley, oregano, chives, and green onions have all been enjoyed for dinner.
And to please the garden gods, I have been offering some classical music, mostly Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The monarch butterflies sitting on the flowers seem to enjoy it!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Been busy in the garden....
While I do tend to cherish the time to visit my plants, do a little weeding, watering, and replanting when the spirited grey squirrel has decided to dig up my bok choy seedlings, I have been thinking about how I have not been living well.
While I try to live with an evolutionary consciousness, to re-create myself as a member who is seeking to terminate my membership in a very dysfunctional society, I do become stuck in the gap.
I speak often of having to live with one foot in this industrial, commercial and mechanistic society, and one foot in another world, one that celebrates and raises my awareness to the fact that I live within an evolutionary story. I am a member of a community of people, who similarly to the people of Copernicus's time, are coming to understand that separateness is an illusion, that all life is kin, all of Earth's dynamics exist inside a larger story. And this story provides a new framework for defining why humans live.
The last line in one of Chellis Glendinning's books answers the perennial question: What is the meaning of human life? She answers: To celebrate creation! To become fully human is to feel the urgency and to actually move to celebrate, to witness, and to be creative with a sense of living in a permaculture, and the larger Universe Story.
Now, permaculture often is used to describe an approach to growing all kinds of plants, the wise use and nurturance of water and soil, and to meet our pest adversaries with humility and to watch them to learn how to work with, rather than against them.
Permaculture also means to me: finding a way to create a culture that is leaning in a direction that is permanent. By accepting that there is nowhere else to go when the garbage and depletion has come home to rest, we can decide to become long term residents, with our existence in the land reflecting our commitment to our progeny. And by understanding that our kin, the bees, the ladybugs, the butterflies, and the wasps, are all my family - is where and how I find strength when I find myself in the gap.
While I try to live with an evolutionary consciousness, to re-create myself as a member who is seeking to terminate my membership in a very dysfunctional society, I do become stuck in the gap.
I speak often of having to live with one foot in this industrial, commercial and mechanistic society, and one foot in another world, one that celebrates and raises my awareness to the fact that I live within an evolutionary story. I am a member of a community of people, who similarly to the people of Copernicus's time, are coming to understand that separateness is an illusion, that all life is kin, all of Earth's dynamics exist inside a larger story. And this story provides a new framework for defining why humans live.
The last line in one of Chellis Glendinning's books answers the perennial question: What is the meaning of human life? She answers: To celebrate creation! To become fully human is to feel the urgency and to actually move to celebrate, to witness, and to be creative with a sense of living in a permaculture, and the larger Universe Story.
Now, permaculture often is used to describe an approach to growing all kinds of plants, the wise use and nurturance of water and soil, and to meet our pest adversaries with humility and to watch them to learn how to work with, rather than against them.
Permaculture also means to me: finding a way to create a culture that is leaning in a direction that is permanent. By accepting that there is nowhere else to go when the garbage and depletion has come home to rest, we can decide to become long term residents, with our existence in the land reflecting our commitment to our progeny. And by understanding that our kin, the bees, the ladybugs, the butterflies, and the wasps, are all my family - is where and how I find strength when I find myself in the gap.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Last plant planted....I think
I finally sat down after finishing my impromptu lasagna garden. I had been talking with my neighbour about using the little strip of land beside the lane way, and they agreed that I could use it for tomatoes. So I gathered up my composting leaves from last fall, some straw, a few cardboard boxes, some horse manure, and finally, some topsoil. When the mess was compiled, I planted 5 tomato plants, type unknown due to a largely foreseeable tumble-down of the seedlings in the greenhouse a few weeks ago. They might be yellow pear cherry toms, moon glows, pink ping pongs cherries, or yellow Roma's, who knows, we'll have to wait and see.
Cutting the front lawn with a 45 year old fire engine red reel mower is no fun. Not that I expected it to be, but it is great exercise, and I get funny looks from our neighbours and people driving by. Our neighbour's little girl, about age 9, walked by and asked me why I don't get a 'real' lawnmower, one that uses gas. Well, I decided that I wasn't going to argue with a 9 year old, so I said "I like doing it the old fashioned way, and I like the exercise," which caused her to pause, and said we could borrow her dad's. Funny hah-hah, not funny strange, that the conversation about the neighbours who use a push mower must have occurred around her dinner table, and she being naive, shared with us her disapproval, which must have been generated by the adult conversation.
This brings me to think about how the school system has missed the boat. Both, about teaching young people about diversity - that is choosing an alternative way to do something apart from the dominant trends, and, actually reading about ways the City of London supposedly encourages greener lawn care. Not that I'm naive about the system neglecting to reinforce greener and healthier ways of living, but, she being 9 years old, is the next generation who will come of age in a time of Peak Oil. Spending one's limited income on fuel to cut a large area of plants that will in about a week, grow back. Lawns are a money pit, a relic of the age of plenty and conspicuous consumption.
Therefore, every year, I will gradually reduce the amount of space dedicated to lawn, and replace it with raised beds for herbs, flowers, and other beautiful plants. Today, I gleaned from my other neighbour, 2 12' long boards, that I will use to create a raised bed, along with some bricks of various sizes. I think some red Swiss chard, some parsley, and some marigolds will look lovely. Details and results to follow.
Cutting the front lawn with a 45 year old fire engine red reel mower is no fun. Not that I expected it to be, but it is great exercise, and I get funny looks from our neighbours and people driving by. Our neighbour's little girl, about age 9, walked by and asked me why I don't get a 'real' lawnmower, one that uses gas. Well, I decided that I wasn't going to argue with a 9 year old, so I said "I like doing it the old fashioned way, and I like the exercise," which caused her to pause, and said we could borrow her dad's. Funny hah-hah, not funny strange, that the conversation about the neighbours who use a push mower must have occurred around her dinner table, and she being naive, shared with us her disapproval, which must have been generated by the adult conversation.
This brings me to think about how the school system has missed the boat. Both, about teaching young people about diversity - that is choosing an alternative way to do something apart from the dominant trends, and, actually reading about ways the City of London supposedly encourages greener lawn care. Not that I'm naive about the system neglecting to reinforce greener and healthier ways of living, but, she being 9 years old, is the next generation who will come of age in a time of Peak Oil. Spending one's limited income on fuel to cut a large area of plants that will in about a week, grow back. Lawns are a money pit, a relic of the age of plenty and conspicuous consumption.
Therefore, every year, I will gradually reduce the amount of space dedicated to lawn, and replace it with raised beds for herbs, flowers, and other beautiful plants. Today, I gleaned from my other neighbour, 2 12' long boards, that I will use to create a raised bed, along with some bricks of various sizes. I think some red Swiss chard, some parsley, and some marigolds will look lovely. Details and results to follow.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
After the rains....
Rain fell yesterday, most welcome of course! Today, I am finishing planting my beets, carrots, and turnips. I am also planting my mini-Italian sunflowers around my birdhouse. Beside my strawberries, I am also planting my cosmos flowers. These will grow quite large, inviting in hummingbirds and beautiful bees.
I was able to buy some local straw and hay to lay around the garden. We put up my hammock from the tree everyone wants me to cut down. I feel cradled like a baby in the hands of the tree, it is a great pine tree with boughs that sweep in the wind. As I write, a morning dove is busy in the garden, gathering dried maple leaves for some distant nest. My cat Smokey, watches intently from the window.
The next big job will be to dig up and move the blackberry bushes that keep springing up around the fire pit. These berries are deep purple and can fit on the end of your thumb. Delicious eating right off the canes. Off to work now, have a good day.
These are most of the friendly, optimistic thoughts that I start my day with. Then the reality of the massive Gulf of Mexico oil leak dribble in, and though toxic leaks are becoming the norm for our industrial society, all I think about is the tragedy that as a civilization, we are heavily invested in being only reactionary, never precautionary. We can easily blame the corporate mindset - but every morning, a very large group of people, from all backgrounds, get up, eat breakfast, kiss their family members goodbye, and go to work making decisions that are not in their best interest. These are "educated" folks, who wish to succeed, earn money and status, and mostly continue to be elevated out of and away from the human condition. By this I mean, physical work. Whether this is peeling your own potatoes, hanging your clothes out to dry, bottling your own in-season foods, sewing and repairing our own clothes. Our attempt to escape and be relieved of all this drudgery, has preoccupied our minds and values, so that we must try to capture and enslave all the remaining petroleum, until another generation as passed and we have no idea or inkling how to live a non-oil dependent life.
I joke in passing sometimes that petroleum has robbed me of an authentic life. I dream of real adventure, resistance, and intentional living. I can artificially find it at the movies, where for two hours I can be the protagonist who is facing some daunting challenge that will test my personal muster and will. My body reacts: my heart pounds, I feel the adrenaline rush, my feet lift off the floor, my hands tighten, and I realize I've been clenching my jaw for too long. My desire to fling myself into this reality is quite strong. But, then the film ends, and I am left feeling like a tourist, always behind the protective glass or guard rail.
Perhaps what I'm feeling, is the call to activism. I too want to throw myself up on a horse, hang on tight, and gallop toward some evil that cares not to address Earth's promise of abundance and beauty. I value the fact that as humanity can begin to understand that we are the evolving expression of the Universe and we are the Earth's mind, capable of reflecting on itself/ourself, new possibilities can emerge. I am energized and enlightened, to know that each and every being has been dreamed into existence, by the evolutionary dynamics of the Universe.
So....I think of this when the grief and heaviness of the crimes that humans commit against the promise of the Earth. In the meantime, I grow my spinach, and smile at my daisies.
I was able to buy some local straw and hay to lay around the garden. We put up my hammock from the tree everyone wants me to cut down. I feel cradled like a baby in the hands of the tree, it is a great pine tree with boughs that sweep in the wind. As I write, a morning dove is busy in the garden, gathering dried maple leaves for some distant nest. My cat Smokey, watches intently from the window.
The next big job will be to dig up and move the blackberry bushes that keep springing up around the fire pit. These berries are deep purple and can fit on the end of your thumb. Delicious eating right off the canes. Off to work now, have a good day.
These are most of the friendly, optimistic thoughts that I start my day with. Then the reality of the massive Gulf of Mexico oil leak dribble in, and though toxic leaks are becoming the norm for our industrial society, all I think about is the tragedy that as a civilization, we are heavily invested in being only reactionary, never precautionary. We can easily blame the corporate mindset - but every morning, a very large group of people, from all backgrounds, get up, eat breakfast, kiss their family members goodbye, and go to work making decisions that are not in their best interest. These are "educated" folks, who wish to succeed, earn money and status, and mostly continue to be elevated out of and away from the human condition. By this I mean, physical work. Whether this is peeling your own potatoes, hanging your clothes out to dry, bottling your own in-season foods, sewing and repairing our own clothes. Our attempt to escape and be relieved of all this drudgery, has preoccupied our minds and values, so that we must try to capture and enslave all the remaining petroleum, until another generation as passed and we have no idea or inkling how to live a non-oil dependent life.
I joke in passing sometimes that petroleum has robbed me of an authentic life. I dream of real adventure, resistance, and intentional living. I can artificially find it at the movies, where for two hours I can be the protagonist who is facing some daunting challenge that will test my personal muster and will. My body reacts: my heart pounds, I feel the adrenaline rush, my feet lift off the floor, my hands tighten, and I realize I've been clenching my jaw for too long. My desire to fling myself into this reality is quite strong. But, then the film ends, and I am left feeling like a tourist, always behind the protective glass or guard rail.
Perhaps what I'm feeling, is the call to activism. I too want to throw myself up on a horse, hang on tight, and gallop toward some evil that cares not to address Earth's promise of abundance and beauty. I value the fact that as humanity can begin to understand that we are the evolving expression of the Universe and we are the Earth's mind, capable of reflecting on itself/ourself, new possibilities can emerge. I am energized and enlightened, to know that each and every being has been dreamed into existence, by the evolutionary dynamics of the Universe.
So....I think of this when the grief and heaviness of the crimes that humans commit against the promise of the Earth. In the meantime, I grow my spinach, and smile at my daisies.
Friday, May 28, 2010
First Day after the full Moon
Mostly, for me gardening is a way to remain connected with the soil, the seasons, the work and resistance that comes from gardening, and delicious food! Definitely, folks who put their hands in the soil are enchanted people. We are the world, the very earth manifested in human form, inspired by the universe to embody itself, and to find another special place and way to reflect on itself. Gardening gives me this gift.
It rained today, and watered my young, fledgling garden. I have planted all my above ground plants, following the traditional 'planting by the moon' schedule. In the next few days, I will plant my root vegetables. This year I will care for heirloom beets, carrots, and turnips.
I have also planted one pea plant beside all my tomato cages so their nitrogen enriching ways will provide for my demanding tomatoes. Interspersed with the tomatoes are radishes, spinach and basil. The tomato patch is surrounded by flowers, mostly nasturtium, marigolds, and moonflowers.
My other garden has my beans ~ orca, Vermont cranberry, blue jay, yellow wax, and green bush beans. My squash: yellow and green zucchini, baseball zucchini, shining star watermelon, acorn, and triamble Australian, are all up and smiling. I have experimented this year by using pine cones to encircle each squash mound to deter slugs and other hungry insects. I will post some photos soon.
The strawberry patch is on the verge of being a sea of red, plump berries. Around the rain barrel, lives and grows my plethora of catnip, and sometimes my two cats, Merlin and Smokey. A large toad lives beside the rain barrel under the catnip.
I have big dreams for my gardens. I live in the east end of London, Ontario, surrounded by many interesting neighbours, many who hang their clothes out to dry. We have lots of birds, especially, woodpeckers, cardinals, chickadees, starlings, and a few hummingbirds.
It rained today, and watered my young, fledgling garden. I have planted all my above ground plants, following the traditional 'planting by the moon' schedule. In the next few days, I will plant my root vegetables. This year I will care for heirloom beets, carrots, and turnips.
I have also planted one pea plant beside all my tomato cages so their nitrogen enriching ways will provide for my demanding tomatoes. Interspersed with the tomatoes are radishes, spinach and basil. The tomato patch is surrounded by flowers, mostly nasturtium, marigolds, and moonflowers.
My other garden has my beans ~ orca, Vermont cranberry, blue jay, yellow wax, and green bush beans. My squash: yellow and green zucchini, baseball zucchini, shining star watermelon, acorn, and triamble Australian, are all up and smiling. I have experimented this year by using pine cones to encircle each squash mound to deter slugs and other hungry insects. I will post some photos soon.
The strawberry patch is on the verge of being a sea of red, plump berries. Around the rain barrel, lives and grows my plethora of catnip, and sometimes my two cats, Merlin and Smokey. A large toad lives beside the rain barrel under the catnip.
I have big dreams for my gardens. I live in the east end of London, Ontario, surrounded by many interesting neighbours, many who hang their clothes out to dry. We have lots of birds, especially, woodpeckers, cardinals, chickadees, starlings, and a few hummingbirds.
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