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.