meet philly

common name: tree philodendron, big leaf philodendron, split-leaf philodendron
scientific name: philodendron selloum
family: araceae
type: shrub
exposure: part shade
height: 8-9'
width: 8-10'
spacing: 8-10'
water use: regular water as needed to keep soil moist
zone(s): 9-11 or indoors (if you have a really large space)
cold hardiness: 40 degrees
WARNING: poisonous if ingested, sap may irritate skin

philodendron selloum is one of my go-to plants for creating an instantly lush, tropical feel, and i love the way large specimen plantings add intimacy to a small space. it worked especially well in my former coastal san francisco garden where it never got a lick of frost and looked very wild and cool through the fog.

though technically this lovely is outside my zone (i'm an 8), because my patio and garden are well sheltered with a wall to the west and a balcony above he should do just fine. i hope to get him into the ground this weekend. and i will definitely be wearing gloves for the project, because i am one of those sensitive-skinned people whose skin is easily irritated by potentially caustic sap.

across a crowded warehouse...

the truth is, i should have spent my weekend unpacking. the "dining" room (which will contain a bookcase, a chair and my vintage singer sewing machine) is still stacked high with boxes and most of the apartments surfaces are covered in an odd assortment of homeless items longing for a little shelf, drawer or cupboard space to call their own. but when a friend asked for a second opinion on pavers for a new patio, i just couldn't refuse. especially since it meant visiting two places i have been dying to check out: building REsources and lyngso garden materials.

building REsources is one of those cool yards that carries all sorts of reclaimed building materials, fixtures, findings and fun. among my favorites were a green and pink marble counter top that could've been transformed into a really interesting coffee table, a brand new bay window for a fraction of it's original price, the head of a queen-sized brass bed which would have made the coolest trellis ever if it hadn't already been sold and, of course, their specialty: buckets and buckets of tumbled glass, tile, terra cotta and even mirrors in a variety of sizes and colors. i bought small bags of several types to use as decorative accents in my indoor plant pots, but some day would love to create a whole river of tumbled tempered glass flowing through my flower garden beds.

lyngso carries all kinds of fantastic landscaping materials from crushed granite to five foot high basalt towers and all kinds of other nifty things (soils, mulches, rocks, decorative garden ornaments...). i could've stayed there all day, especially when i found, tucked back in a corner, a wire cage full of black lava rocks about the size of bowling balls. these will be perfect decorative accents for my tropical garden (assuming they have any left by the time i get back next weekend).

of course it was at home depot, the most mundane of the many stores and yards i visited where my eyes drifted across the crowded warehouse to meet the perfect green ceramic planter to someday house my black bamboo. i of course snapped it right up. and later, at the next home depot, i made my very first plant purchase for the new garden. but that introduction will have to wait until tomorrow...

the first sign of spring

yesterday i received in the mail the one thing that helps get me through the long, cold winter: my seed savers exchange catalog. every year it spends the winter months on my nightstand, promising dreams of ripe, red tomatoes, deep purple pole beans, and fragrant anise to name just a few.

i love this catalog, not just for the organic, heirloom promises it makes but for the amazing work the company does preserving our planet's rich botanical heritage. seed savers exchange preserves more than 25,000 endangered heritage plants at their farm, 650 of which are available for purchase through their catalog and online. becoming a member not only supports this important work, it also gets you a 10% discount on purchases.

as for me, i will definitely be renewing my membership this holiday and putting it straight to work on an order of heirloom tomato transplants that will ship come spring. my varieties of choice: amish paste, cherokee purple and stupice (a.k.a. the apocalypse tomato). i may even throw in a ground cherry for good measure, just because it sounds like fun.

community garden update

it's been exactly 8 months since i first proposed a corporate community garden at our workplace. though initially excited about the idea, our facilities team has been dealing with other fires and it has been relegated to the back burner. the good news is after last week's nudging, it has now been assigned to someone who may actually have the time to bring it to fruition. so i will say to all of you what our facilities manager said to me: stay tuned!

here is where the fun begins

ignore the mess for now. instead imagine this:

in this corner will be the planters. the lemon tree with trailing rosemary dripping over the edges of the pot. an assortment of vegetables. possibly the coveted artichoke.

the planting area will be edged in large black lava rocks and the fence and open spaces will be screened with reed fencing. the back-left corner could use some height to block the building across the way, perhaps one of the banana plants i have at my sisters, with some sort of climber to cover the walls. in front of that a tree fern would do nicely. behind that something big and leafy -- a split-leaf philodendron if i can find one. if not, a monstera or acanthus would do the trick. i'd also like to add a croton or two for color some calas and of course, my little japanese maple in its red ceramic pot as the center-piece.

and back there is where the black bamboo will go, definitley in a pot, partly to make it taller and partly to keep it from taking over the apartment complex. in front of that a small homemade compost bin screen by a much larger lava rock and more leafy plants.


once the boxes are out of the way, i'll center the bench under the window flanked by potted plants -- the pygmy date palm in the picture for one, and possibly my peace tree rose or the blood orange that my sister has also been babysitting. on rollers, of course so i can still get into my storage closet.

its all coming together in my head. now i just need to put it together out there. stay tuned...

cold snap

it's near freezing here in my corner of sunny california. last night i pulled my pygmy date palm and sad, skinny banana plant up against the walls of the house to help keep them warm. luckily my porch is covered and sheltered by a low wall all around, but it's hard to look out at that empty patch of dirt knowing now is not the time to fill it with green. even against the warm, western wall it would be tough for a young tree fern in that cold and i so want every little plant to have a strong start.

they say it's supposed to start raining again this weekend. maybe it's the universe's way of keeping me inside. after all, there is unpacking to be done.

regional focus: waikoloa, hi

the first time i went to hawaii last october i visited the big island. when i got off the plane in kona and looked around at the miles of bleak, arid lava-dessert all i could think was "this is not the tropical paradise i was promised."

going to the dry side of that island is like visiting the moon. or mars. most of the plants that grow there are dry and scrubby.

but during the time i was there i realized how absolutely stunning it was, the contrast of black lava with white coral.

with the scrubby, tiny-leaved plants sending out brightly glowing flowers against that deceptively stark land against all odds.

love

hotcakes jewelry: gorgeous, carved resin necklaces, rings and bracelets, many with vintage botanical prints (my favorite is the graphic plants)

prettylittlependant on etsy: tiny collages chock-full of words and plants (home is the one)

juiceglass on etsy: handblown glass beads and jewelry to die for, especially her stunning focal beads

fresh start

i am finally moved. it took an entire trip just to move the house plants which are still sitting in boxes on counters and tabletops. the outdoor-turned indoor plants, a banana and a pygmy date palm, as well as a japanese maple i'd been keeping on my tiny balcony are out on the patio, drinking real rain.

on saturday, i took a look at the dirt, noticed paint chips and chunks of wood, obviously scraped down from some upstairs rennovation. they were scattered among the cheap wood chips -- the kind corporate buildings use as mulch to keep down the weeds, but the weeds grow up and through just the same.

when the rain stops i will scrape up the paint and the mulch and the weeds and replace them with organic compost and organic mulch. and then i will find plants that can survive while the soil recovers and plant them. and they will heal the soil. and they will heal me.


and if i can make it look like this, all the better.

substitutions

the first thing on my to do list for kauai was to visit limahuli garden, the smallest of three national tropical botanical gardens on the island. while i'm sure the others are quite impressive, what drew me to this particular garden were two things, first, the taro fields, and second, the archeaological significance of the site.

limahuli isn't really just one garden. it's a series of gardens, starting with the taro fields (nearly all of the taro grown comes from this region of this island). from there it meanders through a plantation era garden, an ancient archaeological site, a native forest, an invasive plant forest and an endangered plant preserve.


one of my favorite endangered plants, alula, looks like lettuce on a stick (or as the guidebook says, cabbage on a baseball bat). it's actually thought to be extinct in the wild but the botanists at limahuli are working to propagate it in the preserve for eventual re-introduction into the wild.

i'm not sure whether it's its comical appearance or it's tenacity in the face of destruction that makes me love it so much, but either way, it's unlikely i'll be finding it in a nursery near me. which brings me to an interesting conversation i had with an older couple who were also visiting the gardens. when i remarked how beautiful the grounds were, the man replied "yes they are, the problems arise when people get back from vacation and try to recreate them at home." which is, of course, what i wanted to do.

but there is one big difference between me and his fellow mid-western weekend gardeners. okay two. the first is that i live in california which has a climate that often works well for tropicals, so yes, i start with a leg up. but that's not the big one. the big one is this. despite my love for the little alula (and the taro, and the stunning hot pink ti plants, etc., etc.) i know that you can't just put any old plant in any old place and have it grow. i also know that there are a whole mess of plants that look a lot like other plants. can't have a ti plant? try a more temperate-friendly type of cordyline. can't manage the size and invasiveness of bamboo? how about nandina?

as for my new little buddy, there's even a pinch-hitter for him. sure, it's not quite the same, but it's close enough to remind me, and best of all, i have pots of them sitting in my mother's yard just waiting to go in the ground.

two things

- the lusher the plants, the more prevalent the mosquitoes
- if you can manage to get out past the break, the water is way calmer

going mobile

thursday morning i will be boarding a plane for the garden island and i will be leaving my computer and blackberry behind. still, i don't want to be completely disconnected, expecially with the rich, tropical experience that awaits me in kauaii, no doubt inspiring me with all sorts of interesting topics and beautiful images for this blog.

sure my camera doesn't have the best picture resolution, but it's definitely good enough. and most importantly, it's always with me.

i've signed up. i've done a test post. soon there will be green...

more ruminations on a small patch of dirt

when space is limited, it's important to choose your plants carefully keeping a number of considerations in mind:

1. what kind of garden do i want to have
2. what will grow well in the environment at hand
3. what plants/varieties are most productive
4. which of these will actually be used

with my preference for multi-use gardens that feed, protect, beautify and provide i know i want to use at least some of the space as a food garden. of course whenever i think vegetable garden i get stuck on the plants my mother grew in her garden when i was a kid: tomatoes and zucchini. thing is, i don't eat a lot of tomatoes or zucchini and since both are prodigious producers, that can be a problem (especially since my mother still grows both of these in her current garden and there are always plenty of left-overs to go around). so then what would i use?

spice and herb-wise, it's easy: rosemary, oregano and basil. preferably trailing varieties of the first two. now, i have never had a lick of luck with basil, but a girl's gotta keep trying and seeds are cheap.

when it comes to vegetables, i'm pretty much all about the winter squash. one year i planted eight different varieties and loved them all. now i definitely won't have space for eight in my new location, but there's always room for a lovely little kabocha or an acorn... maybe even a compact pumpkin if i can squeeze one in. other important players are kale (lacinato, to be precise), beans (i have a dwarf runner bean that apparently works very well in hanging planters), perhaps some florence fennel, and my favorite (and the monster of the bunch), artichokes. yes, i realize that last one is a crazy pipe-dream, but it's worth a shot if i can find a very large pot (oh, wait, i already have one).

as for fruit, in my perfect garden i have a granny smith apple, an italian prune plum, black currents, boysenberries, a lemon, a blood orange, and a fig, but obviously that's not going to happen (even though i have two of the seven sitting in pots at my sister's house and three more waiting at my mom's). of course if i'm honest, i'll probably only really use the lemon, and since that's one i already own i'm good to go.

so what else? bamboo. preferably phyllostachys nigra. it's strong enough to build with, provides privacy, wonderful sounds, and the young shoots are edible, plus, it's absolutely gorgeous, one of my favorite plants of all. i would also kill for an elephant ear or three (the taro kind with edible tubers, of course) that is if i can get them and find some way to keep them alive.

so that's it:

- lemon
- artichoke
- bamboo nigra

as foundation plants (with elephant ears if i can get them), with herbs and veggies and perhaps a flower or two to fill in the gaps. who knows, i may even throw in a tomato for good measure if i can find the space.

a very small patch of dirt

i was supposed to be moving to my new, larger-balconied apartment this coming saturday. unfortunately, the folks who are currently living in that apartment changed their minds about moving, and while i would've been within my rights to have them booted out, the idea of pissing off total strangers who would then know exactly where i lived didn't really appeal to me, so i selected a different apartment: a ground-floor one bedroom tucked in a corner. it is quieter, has hardwood floors instead of carpets and most importantly, has a solidly decent-sized patio with an actual strip of dirt which the leasing agent tells me i can use to plant "anything i want."

though there are a lot of folks who are having trouble understanding why i would willing trade a gorgeous view of trees and ponds and rolling grass, i am elated by my little walled-in sanctuary. i can hardly believe my luck. dirt. actual dirt.

the new apartment isn't available until mid-december, but that just gives me more time to plan what plant where. here are a few things i have to keep in mind:

- the patio itself gets full afternoon sun, but the planting bed is behind a wall so will spend most if not all of the day in shade
- the apartment is built on landfill, so it's probably safest to confine edibles to pots where i can have better control of the soil

space is very limited so i'll need to choose carefully. i love this part.

waiting by the phone

yesterday i started reading three cups of tea by greg mortenson and david oliver renin. it's the story of a climber who got lost in the mountains after a failed attempt to climb pakistan's K2, the second highest peak in the world.

the short version of the story is this: after wandering for days he found himself in a small village and while he was there discovered his life's calling: building schools in these remote, impoverished locations. but not just schools. schools for girls.

so what does that have to do with gardening you may ask. in my life, a lot. greg mortenson found an incredible gift when he came down that mountain. not without cost, but it was a cost he and many others are willing to pay: give yourself to help save the world. and all i kept thinking as i read those words was that i wanted that to be me. not out in pakistan building schools, but making that kind of difference.

for me, i know that calling has at its epicenter growing food, but beyond that, it's a blur of too many options. i have the drive and the will and the desire but the path is still obscured. it's as though i'm sitting at home dressed for a party waiting for someone to call and tell me where to go.

there are in the world many people who rely on force of will and conscious decision-making to determine their direction and cut the trail themselves. there are others to whom a path is revealed and they then spend their energy following it. i have been trying to do the former, to no avail. these days, i pray for the latter. for some higher power to point me in the right direction, because once i know where i'm going, i have no question that i can overcome any obstacle to get there.

why aren't house plants enough?

this morning on her blog you grow girl, gayla trail lamented the signs of oncoming winter and how despite her indoor plants, she would miss being outside in the garden for the next four months.

i understand her sense of sadness. despite a jungle's worth of indoor plants, it just isn't the same as the garden i left. part of it is the level of interaction required. for the most part, all my house plants require is water with the occassional feeding and dusting of leaves and even more occassional transplanting. there is no digging, no weeding, no tilling, no harvest. there is rarely a flower. the dirt in an indoor container just isn't as teeming with life. in the controlled environment of an urban apartment, there is no connection to the seasons, to the earth.

there is just something about standing in the sun with a shovel in your hand (or a rake or a pick-axe or a tiller), about reaching fingers into dirt, about untangling roots before placing a new plant in its new home that makes me feel more alive, more connected than anything else. it's something that even a big pot on a little porch won't be able to replicate.

but at least i'm still surrounded by green.

art and nature

i spent saturday afternoon at the triton museum with my nephews for a family cardboard art workshop. the course was taught by ann weber, a sculptor whose work is currently on exhibition there.



i love her art for so many reasons. the organic shapes. the fact that they are made from recycled materials. the way the kids in the class were so drawn to it and inspired by it. they created hats and swords and 3-D animals and baskets and towers and books and boats.

it was the boat that inspired me. the little girl who made it left the spine open so you could see the ribs. everyone else saw a boat. i saw something else. which inspired this leaf:



i love the way it felt to build it. i love how inspiring it was to be surounded by the creativity of kids. a little non-tox varnish and it will be ready for my wall.

review: moss room

i had a couple of hours to kill between a team off-site at the california academy of sciences and the disappointing lecture hosted there, so i decided to check out the moss room, their swanky new restaurant hidden around the corner, through the museum cafe and down a flight of stairs.

those stairs... actually, it wasn't so much the stairs, it was the wall alongside the stairs. a wall completely covered in all kinds of moss. but not just moss. in with the moss were lichens and even a few orchids. and at the base of the wall, a make-shift stream encased in a stainless steel trough.

i want that wall.

of course it also didn't hurt that the staff were awesome (especially the brand new welsh bartender who was so taken aback by my reading material) and the food was fantastic. my dinner of black cod with heirloom cherry tomatoes made me want to cry it tasted so good. i really wanted to try one of the many desserts, but alas, the lecture called. in retrospect, however, i'm thinking the dessert would have been the more satisfying choice.

review: the future of food

friday evening i went to a literary event courtesy of san francisco's litquake. it was a conversation between raj patel, author of stuffed and starved: the hidden battle for the world's food system and molly watson, a contributing editor for sunset magazine entitled "the future of food."

this is a subject close to my heart for many reasons. for starters, i believe that the processed, packaged, chemically-laden and genetically-engineered food we eat is killing us. according to raj patel, the average life span for women is actually decreasing -- those of us with children can expect them to five years shorter a lifespan than we will. i also believe that creating that food is killing our planet and the plants, animals, and ecosystems that we share it with.

given our shared belief you'd think i would have loved the lecture, but for me, it came up short on a number of levels.

- the conversation itself felt artificial and rehearsed
- the information presented was often not adequately supported by fact, so it came across as closed-minded liberal raving (this from a girl is all for liberal raving)
- the lecture was not at all about the future of food, focusing almost entirely on what's wrong with the current system is a) evil and b) unsustainable (not that i don't agree, it just wasn't what i paid for)

luckily, one audience member did ask the question: "so what do we do?" and mr. patel, did provide a short, but important answer:

1. stop using petroleum-based chemical fertilizers (with the way things are going with oil these days, they will soon become prohibitively expensive anyway)
2. stop monoculture farming: it not only depletes the soil and fosters disease, it currently focuses on a very limited number of crops, limiting our diet and degrading our health
3. embrace, or better yet, instigate concerted local activism

number one is a no-brainer. a compost bin and a little integrated pest management will take care of most problems. number two is more difficult. one solid solution is to grow our own food, or at least a portion of it. another help: buying local from small farms that practice more sustainable practices. but it's number three that really speaks to me. the future of food is currently in the hands of a few large corporations. we need to take that power back.

and as for the lack of factual support for so many of the lecture's most compelling points? i bought myself a copy of the book. i'm hoping they're in there, waiting to inspire me.

hard times

on days like today it is hard not to worry about the future. sure, the bail-out bill has finally been signed, but will it work? or is it already too little too late?

in my mind, it doesn't really matter. regardless of the eventual outcome we should all be finding ways to do more with less -- not because we are afraid but because its the right thing to do, for ourselves, our families, the economy and the planet. and one of the best ways to do that is by gardening.

fall is the time to plant bare-root trees, shrubs and all kinds of other plants that can make our lives both greener and tastier come spring. the fruit you pick from even a small tree planted in a bucket on your patio is fresher, healthier, tastier and more rewarding that one selected from a grocery shelf that has been picked weeks before it was even ripe trucked in from an entirely different country. start in the spring from seeds and you'll be amazed by how much food a few inexpensive packets can provide. and don't think that this only applies to those lucky folks with big yards and lots of time. i recently downsized from my oversized house and yard, to a small suburban apartment, and in 6 weeks i will move again to an even smaller place. although most days i desperately miss my garden, the indoor plants that now cover nearly every surface help ease the pain. and come spring, i plan to take it to the next level with edible plants both indoors and out on my new balcony.

my top pics are a dwarf granny smith apple, tomatoes in hanging planters and an artichoke in a big bucket if i can make room. the tree will be the first thing i buy when i move. the rest i will dream about during the winter months so i'll be ready come spring.

looking for some inspiration? check these out:
- wayside gardens sells a self-pollinating dwarf avocado tree that grows and fruits indoors; their meyer lemon will also fruit indoors
- turn an empty wall into living art with a living wall; i'm planning to fill them with different kinds of herbs (will let you know how that goes)
- get your kids in on the act with adorable egglings (they'd make great stocking stuffers), or, better yet, help them start a kitchen garden with avocado seeds, carrot tops, and even dried beans -- it's low cost and eco-friendly!

planting bulbs

i love bulbs. they are one of nature's most perfect packages. everything the plant needs is all wrapped up and ready to go. all the gardener needs to do is put it in the ground and let the magic happen. and it does happen.

lately my dreams have felt a lot like unplanted bulbs -- full of potential and intention but without the nurishment they need to move to the next level. as long as i leave them to rest in their bags or languish on shelves, they will never bloom.

in honor of fall, my favorite bulb-planting season, with the help of a friend, one of those dream bulbs is about to go into the ground. this post is to serve as a marker and as the first act: resurrecting this fallow blog. expect to hear more, a lot more, very soon.

book review: tropical organic gardening

tropical organic gardening: hawaiian style by richard stevens is a sweet little gem of a book. weighing in at a super-light 83 pages including a bevy of drawings, it still had plenty of room for inspiration.

it's true that most everything in there is pretty basic, and that this white dude from the mainland probably isn't the most immediately credible source of old hawaiian knowledge and lore (gardening or otherwise). still, he brings a joy and reverence to his topic that both charms and enlightens. and the appendices (yes, appendices) include pages of sobering statistics, inspirational quotes, footnotes galore, a glossary of terms (which reminds me, i want to wiki findhorn), and, most importantly, a list of references and resources inlcuding the university of hawaii's tropical agriculture program (you knew i didn't come up with that one on my own). but my favorite part: the descriptions of organic taro farming techniques. i was also highly amused by his descriptions of the 10 most nutritious vegetables -- broccoli, spinach, brussels sprouts, lima beans, peas, asparagus, artichokes, cauliflower, sweet potatoes and carrots, most of which are very hard to grow out there because they need cool moist climates like this one. :)

the verdict: definitely a keeper

wish i had thought of this...

"MyFarm, a new San Francisco business [takes] local and organic diets to a new level: by designing and planting an organic vegetable garden... [in San Francisco and East Bay] backyards. [Customers] pay MyFarm a weekly fee to maintain and harvest the vegetables that have just started to mature."

community garden update

the facilities director like the idea and will be contacting the land owners to see if we can use it. we probably won't be able to grow food due to the landfill/former dumpsite issue (though it wouldn't be too difficult to check the soil toxicity anyway), but even if it's just flowers, being able to go out there at lunch and dig, or after a particularly stressful meeting, would be a huge coup.

green vision

i have always dreamed of being an activist, but i have never had the guts. i have always preferred to lead and inspire from within. it's safer. and it keeps me out of the spotlight. but today, i took a step toward something i have been wanting to do for a long time.

out my office window is a vacant lot. every day i watch as the winds tear away the exposed topsoil. every day i dream of it green. but not just green, productive. i want it to feed us — me and my fellow employees, our families, our community. so today i sent an email to our director of office and real estate services proposing a community garden for that spot and offering to lead the project if it's something we can get the company behind.

sure, it's just a baby step and my plan may very well be nipped in the bud before it can even send out roots, but the way i see it, if they say yes, i'll get to pursue my dream, and if they say no, it just gives me incentive to fight harder to find another way — here or somewhere else.

book review: the one-straw revolution

i can't even remember where i heard about this one, but something about it (and the reviews it got) piqued my interest so i ordered it from the library. it's been sitting on the shelf for three weeks untouched while i worked on your money or your life by joe dominguez but when i got the renewal email yesterday and realized that a) both books were on hold and so couldn't be renewed, and b) there was no way i could adequately get through the one i was reading, i decided to spend the day reading the one-straw revolution: an introduction to natural farming by masanobu fukuoka between laundry loads.

at 181 pages, i figured it would be a quick, easy read. it was. but the ideas in the book were deceptive in their simplicity. the four precepts: no cultivation, no chemical fertilizers or prepared compost, no weeding by tillage or herbicides, and no dependence on chemicals, seem like a fairy tale, but in his experience have led to the highest, most consistent grain production in his region.

the book reads almost like a series of zen koans or the teachings of buddha, every word about so much more than farming. the anticipated how-to on pest and weed avoidance was really a call to re-evalute your relationship with food, farming, the world and yourself — ironically and oddly similar to dominguez' approach to money management. interesting to have borrowed them both on the same day.

there was a time i would have called this book life-altering, but today i know it would be contrary to the spirit of the book, so instead i will say it was a gentle but powerful reminder of what i already intrinsically know and where i am hoping to take my life but which has been buried in the side-effects of my current life.

i have already chosen a book to add the sell pile to make room for this one on my shelf.

eco-guilt

i read this great article this morning about how many people in the bay area are having trouble coping with increasing effects of eco-anxiety. i am definitely one of those people.

i thought the move would help with this. it did, in a lot of ways:

- decreased my commute from 2.5 hours per day to 15 minutes per day (and my gas comsumption from 1.5 tanks per week to 1/4 tank per week)
- significantly decreased water and power usage due to smaller, better insulated place to heat and no yard to water
- grocery and other key ammenities within walking distance

but it also hurt:

- no yard to grow food [but may be able to do it in pots]
- no space for composter [but my mom now has my composter so i can take stuff to her - only 20 miles away]
- can't walk to the library [but can bart]
- doctor, PO box, etc. are now a much farther drive

and then there's the water issue... apparently britta doesn't filter out whatever in my tap upsets my stomach so i'm buying for now, but i hope to get that worked out soon.

and there is always more i could do... take shorter showers, turn off circuit breakers and unplug appliances, take the stairs, run errands on my bike instead of in the car, turn down the heat... it can all get so overwhelming...

the good news is, when i get too stressed about how much progress i have yet to make, i can just check out a carbon footprint calculator or two. if you use the basic earth day calculator, my footprint went from 40 acres (9.1 planets) to 14 (3.2 planets) since my move. average footprint in the US is 24. if you use the more advanced EPA calculator, it went from 60,392 pounds per year to 19,185. average is 41,500. either way, i've come a long way.

uprooted

i expected to miss my view. i expected to miss the sound of the waves crashing and the fog and the big, wide streets and the ice cream parlor at the corner. stupidly i did not expect, having brought so many of my plants with me, cramming pots and saucers and jars of green into every possible corner, to miss my garden quite this much. but last night i was nearly undone by the idea that this approaching spring there would be nowhere to plant my salvaged squash seeds or my apocalypse tomatoes. i thought the plants i had would do. they don't. so this morning, on the advice of a friend, i searched for a local community garden. i found one just a few minutes from work. now i just have to hope they have an open plot.

if not, i may have to send my favorite plant, the giant golden bamboo that takes up my entire tiny porch packing to live somewhere else, so i can replace it with food-growing pots. either that or stake out an under used public space and start guerilla gardening.