White Trash Permaculture Garden, Part One

Though I've had a garden for a while, it has been a while since I had that magical feeling that comes with love and connection to your garden. I've never had the money to buy the things I am told to buy to have a garden. I was getting tired of growing anemic veggies. Then, in March of 2016, I mangled my foot and gave up completely. 

Over the last few years, I have learned so much about myself. And suddenly it hit me...my garden is a form a self-expression. And if I am not expressing my true self, is it truly my garden? Isn't this that place where learned and lived experience suddenly becomes apparent? If I am taking these ideas about permaculture, plants, gardens, nature, and trying to create the perfect garden, without first letting them sit, percolate in the realm that is me, then my garden isn't truly mine, it is a fragmented reflection of my mind.

I'm ready to build a garden. My garden. In fact, I just have just accepted it as mine, exactly how it is. And I am making it up as I go along.  I am starting where I am. With what I have, not the things I don't have like money or permaculture super-stars.  I know my porch is hot, that I've never been real good at growing things, that I work enough for two people, that I homeschool my child. I don't have a truck. I don't own property. I can be lazy. Well... my therapist says I'm over-worked, not lazy. 

My garden is permaculture garden, the white trash variety. Bohemian, hippie, well-traveled, white trash. I use the resources available to me, the plentiful refuse of white liberal North Bay capitalism. It won't be to the standards of Petaluma or Sonoma County, because I am not a standard Petaluman or Sonoman. I won't have a water-wise natives garden. I won't secure truckloads of wood mulch and cardboard delivered to my yard. Not tidy and clean and of the best materials. Not professional. My will be messy and experimental. 

I'll feel my way into this garden, like I feel my way into most everything. And I will start on my porch. And maybe if I am lucky, it will look like this: 

The Rooftop Garden at Unitierra, Oaxaca City. 

I was once at Unitierra in Oaxaca, MX. I studied community based education there. One of my favorite things to do was explore the rooftop garden. It was made of random pieces of rope, milk and water jugs. Found buckets and pots. I felt at home in the garden. (Actually, I often find myself feeling at home in Southern Mexico. My soul feels so much more liberated in Mexico.)


East side MY the porch, as it is today.

Right pot: Sage and freesia from years past, a strawberry my friend gave me last week, and the top of a pineapple, just to see if it grows. I have let this pot and its neighbor to the left, dry up too many times, so the soil wasn't so good, but I've kept it mulched and moist for a while and it seems to be improving. I mulch in place, now. I also added some double duty horse and cow manure.
Left pot: Oregano that has died back every year for many years. The Aloe had been sitting in a tiny pot for a couple years, but then it used up all the dirt so I planted it in place.
The plate and tray is evidence of my untidiness. I have been thinking about putting them away all year.
The three little pots are my mom's lettuce starts.
Bottom of the picture: Yarrow. I love yarrow. Its is a heart choice. I saw it at Occidental Arts and Ecology Center. A magical place. Yarrow loves me. I need it in my space.



To the left you will see my daughters Black Walnut tree sprouting it's first leaves of the season.  We got it at a roadside farm stand on Bodega Avenue and fell in love. (Ironically, since I took the picture, and before I finished writing this blog, my mom came by with a baby walnut tree. She forgot I had one. No one has ever given me a walnut tree ever in my life)

So I planted the walnut in this pot I found. Last winter a clover moved into the pot. Clover was the name of my first pet, who was a cat. Clover is also a nitrogen fixer. I never thought about planting nitrogen fixers into the scarce dirt of a potted tree, but this clover plant seems to know what its doing. There is no clover around my house. I have no idea how it got into the pot.

To the left you can see the spider plant that was given to me because it was dying, and to the right is the edge of the small long planter. I found that when they moved the office at my work. They didn't want it anymore.

This is the little long planter. My daughter planted a chamomile plant on the left. Another strawberry from the neighbor in the middle, and on the right is some basil I bought at the store that grew roots before we ate it all.

And then there are the stairs. They live in the dappled sunlight of the privet tree most of he day. The stairs are where plants go to be neglected. Rosemary, Aloe, and "The Succulent I Found Laying in the Middle of the Sidewalk." They don't seem to mind the neglect, though. My giant aloe plant is flowering even bigger than last year. I plan to give them all a little soil this year, and maybe some other upgrades. Maybe in a few months, the stairs will be lush and green.

Dying Easter Eggs

Our first venture into natural dying with Easter Eggs seemed a simple way to get introduced to the world of natural dying.  (natural dying...noooooo..IM NOT READY!) Anyhow, didn't come out quite as we hoped. We learned a lot though, and I don't say that in a sad sort of way; we had a good time and really did learn a lot.  And hell, that's what we are here for. Why waste your time learning beforehand when you can learn during the process?  That's how we fly.  (I wonder if that is why it takes like 25 years for us to finish our projects???)

There are a ton of articles about dying Easter eggs naturally. And since I am not an avid product buyer, I decided to use what was around the house and in abundance mostly.  I tried some cranberry cocktail and grape juice, with some vinegar (they said it would work).  They say 2-3 tablespoons of vinegar per liter of water when boiling ingredients, so I just added vinegar to the juice.  I wonder if boiling would have made a difference.  When the cranberry juice looked to be failing at its job, I added a bit of red wine.  The juice dyes both came out grayish-lavender and grayish-purplish shades, perhaps leaning more towards gray.  Luckily we decided to decorate the eggs with crayon first to make them a bit more festive and interesting.  However, we were hungry when we were dying, so by the time we finished dying there were only 8 of the dozen left.

For green we debated grass or spinach.  Grass is abundant so we ran outside with our scissors and a basket.  For yellow I boiled the skins of oranges and lemons.  Finally for blue I boiled red cabbage.  The red cabbage dye came out the fastest, and we even ate the shell pink cabbage (now that all the blue had been boiled out).  It's interesting, cause when I have clothing made of natural dyes, blue is always the first to fade. Blue is so transmutable. The red cabbage blue was by far the most vibrant color. I boiled it for about 15 minutes in the water and vinegar mix and then let it cool.

The orange peels on the other hand boiled for more than an hour and didn't dye at all.  The grass boiled the same time and after soaking ALL night, turned the egg a greenish, orangish yellow.

Next year I will go with beets for pink, those things work.  When I was a kid, working in the blueberry fields at a neighboring farm, I would come home each day and eat two Ramens for lunch.  I always threw in a little slice of beet, so I could have pink Ramon.  Beets are the king of pink.  I have heard red onion skins are great for vibrant color as well.  I think I might try blueberries for purple, since they stain.  Turmeric for yellow....cause it stains too.  Maybe spinach for green.

I also want to try boiling the eggs in the pot with the dye ingredients.  I guess the drawback to that is that any crayon drawn on would be melted off.  Over and out.

Becoming a Swallowtail Butterfly (in pictures)

This is where it all started. An aquarium planted with fennel.
We located fennel in a community garden that had little golden
eggs of the Swallowtail.

A day or two before hatching the egg turns black.

little hatchling. (images photographed through jewelers loop)

Three days old.

About 5 days old.

9 days old, third skin.

12 days old. 4th skin.

spinning the rope that keeps it in place as it metamorphoses.

Still working. Day 15?

About day 16, comatose.

after sitting around a few days,the last skin falls away...

Its moving

And now a full chrysalis, good morning.

After nearly two weeks of no change, the wing patterns
appear through skin

Emergence

stretching the wings

Stayed with us about 24 hours before taking its new wings to air.

The last day of my life.

Five years ago today, being fed up with my pitiful fat waddle and baby-induced sciatica going down my right buttock and leg, I became determined. I had been pregnant for 41 weeks and a day, and was very uncomfortable with even the word "induction." I decided it was time to take action. After eating pineapple for lunch, I boiled up a big pot of Raspberry Leaf tea and began to sip it. As the afternoon progressed, I started popping evening primrose oil capsules, rubbing my nipples, and massaging my hoku spot (among other things). I was beginning to feel a little peculiar. So I headed to the local Mexican place and ate the spiciest food I could get a hold of, and then took a long walk around lake Merritt. There on a bench behind Fairy Land it happened. My 9.6 pound baby's body and mine began to move in unison.

That was just the beginning.

I mused as I walked to my quiet empty home that every time I stopped to catch my balance during contractions, that all these people around me had no idea I was in labor. I remember looking people in their eyes thinking "Can you tell I am having a baby?" smiling, which may have at times looked like a grimace.

Raw Milk (and Butter) Ruckus

So bummed that the FDA has been putting pressure on my farmer for selling us raw cow milk.  Not us personally, but anybody.  It is illegal in most states now, because of, they say, risks of contamination.  Of course, everything is at risk of contamination. With all the crazy scare tactics out there about raw milk (I can't even go there, it would take me all week to write), you would think it was responsible for at least one death…nope.  We are more likely to win the lottery than get sick from raw milk, especially since I get the milk straight from a healthy cow within hours of the milking.  No processing plant.  No employees that may not have been trained well.  I am furious that the FDA is forcing a wedge between me and my farmer.  Grrrr. Food and Drug Autocrats.

I love raw milk. It's alive and I love life.  You are what you eat.  Living foods come from healthy colonies of bacteria and yeasts, they grow from living soil, they come unadulterated from an animal. They come from an abundant vibrant living food system, not the disgusting industrial food system.    Living foods can not be part of the industrial food system, because that system kills life

Raw milk contains 8 amino acids and 60 fully intact and functional enzymes, pasteurized milk has none.  In fact, humans could live solely off of the milk of a healthy, pasture fed cow.  Or so they say (click here for a great article explaining raw milk nutrients).

They say that once you start to drink raw milk you never go back.  I've been drinking it only a little while, but my body knows that raw milk is good food.  It tastes better. There is no flemmy after effect, or bloated feeling in my belly.  Plus, we get make a cube of fresh sweet cream butter every week from the milk fat.  Sometimes, I make yogurt as well.

So now we are on a hunt for a new raw milk source.  

Butter is super easy to make...check it out

 Here is a beautiful 1/2 gallon of milk, with a big old head of cream, ready for making into butter.  This one has been sitting in the fridge a couple days...I usually make the butter the night after the morning of milking cause it tastes so fresh and sweet.  I didn't get to it on time this time.

Heavy cream from the top, sitting, beckoning me to make it into butter.  This is a quart jar.  1/3 full is a good amount.  More than half full will leave you with not enough room for the next part.

And she is off, shaking and shaking the cream.  You need to shake for a while.  It is nice to sit around, watching a video, passing the jar amongst a group of friends.  Or at least to have someone to talk to.  It seems to take less time if you are doing more than just shaking cream.  Keep shaking. Don't give up, the cream, very suddenly, seemingly in just a few shakes, will turn to...

This clumpy butter. The nice thing about letting the milk sit longer before shaking it is that there is less milk in the fat...thus less buttermilk leftover (real buttermilk isn't that stuff you buy in the store, its the stuff leftover after shaking the butter.) I don't drink the buttermilk, but you can. I try to cook with it.

With your hand you can remove the butter from the jar, then run it under cold water, while squeezing and kneading it until the water runs clear. Leaving milk in your butter will turn in rancid a little to quickly for my taste. I usually add salt (if I add salt) either after I cleaned it, or I knead it in right before.  I am not sure which is better.

After you have squeezed it clean, make a little cube.  Tah dah! 

Me and My Kombucha

Recently, a mama from Hipmama offered up some Kombucha Mothers.  Kombucha is an effervecient fermented drink made from tea and sugar that has been used as a health elixer for thousands of years. I had been tasting it here and there and decided to give it a whirl.

Baby SCOBY (you can see mama SCOBY
sideways in a new batch of tea)

A week later a baby kombucha from New Jersey was born from my mailbox!  To clarify, the Kombucha SCOBY (Symbiotic Colony Of Bacteria and Yeasts) is often referred to as a “mother” because this is what makes the kombucha.  Every time that a new batch of kombucha is finished, a white (sometimes pinkish) baby SCOBY has formed on the top of the brew.  As soon as you remove the baby and put it in a fresh batch of tea and sugar, the baby effectively becomes a mother as well, and at the end of the brew you will have yet another baby/mother that has formed on top of the original one. 

I store my kombucha in
used bottles from this store-
bought kombucha

So, I have been brewing kombucha for a month now, and drinking it daily.  It is purported to have a myriad of health benefits, especially for detoxing organs and basically just an all round disease (cancer) fighter. 

I start and end my day with Kombucha. drinking about 16 ounces of it a day.  Ramona has been drinking a few ounces here and there.  It is a little strong for her.

A quick search can give you several sites with various directions for brewing tea, so I will skip the step by step (but here is a great FAQ).  Many people will say you have to use black tea.  Not true, though black tea is a good basic starting place since it has all the nutrients the mother needs.  They also say you have to use white sugar; I have been using raw and unprocessed sugar from the bulk section just fine.  I started off using a green tea mix, mint mélange from Trader Joes and Yogi Ginger Tea.  I later read that many of the herbs I was using are a no-no for reasons of acid levels and mold.  However, I have been successful using some of the no-no herbs, just not in excess.  Here is a great article about appropriate herbs to use. Also, black, white, and green tea and well as Yerba Mate work great. 

I must warn you though, sometimes they recommend adding a bit of vinegar to give the SCOBY some of the acidic environment it likes…don’’t use “live” or raw vinegar…this will interfere with the brew, and you will have a Vinegar Kombucha Monster, and those are not pretty!

Sugar and tea bags, waiting for boiling water.

Not finding a good gallon jar for brewing, I have been using half gallon mason jars. I use three tea bags, filtered water, and just under a cup of sugar.  Since Kombucha likes to be kept between 70 and 85 degrees fahrenheit, I invested $15 in a heating pad and keep it on low sideways between the bottles in the cupboard where I brew my Kombucha.

I am addicted to the stuff.  It makes me happy and healthy. Let me know if you want a Kombucha baby, I would love to share the love.   

I usually only fill it 1/3 of the way with hot water,
and add cold after I remove the teabags for
quicker cooling. Make sure to melt all the sugar
when adding the boiling water. 

Mother just added to cooled tea/sugar.

Ready!  See the baby sitting pretty on top? 

Brewing in the cupboard over the stove.  I switched
from covering with kitchen towel to paper towels
cause I don't have enough kitchen towels and for
sanitary reasons. These are two deep and I slide the
heating pad right between them.