That’s a Bummer about the Berries

We were so keen on currants and gooseberries, all along the chain link fence that borders our backyard. But it seems they are still banned in the state of Massachusetts – because Ribes plants could be hosts to the fungus spores that causes White Pine Blister Rust. The ban used to be on the entire US but has been lifted in most States except some New England States, like Mass.

Never mind that there are now currants and gooseberry strains that are resistant to it. There is one grower, in Western Mass., who produces what looks like fantastic berry bushes that are just right for our situation. But they’re not allowed to sell them to customers in Mass.

I spoke with someone from the State’s Ag. Dept. and he said I could apply for a license, but the variances (distances from the closest white pine stand)  are so tight it’s almost impossible to qualify. The “bush guy” at my Garden Center said forget it; he knows of someone local who tried and all he got was the bureaucratic runaround.

Our shade is quite deep: the places where we can grow berries are on the chainlink fences in the constant shade of pines, oaks and beeches.  What food to grow there?

More Summer Harvest

Ah, so this is what it was all about! Finally the garden is giving up that abundance that was promised: beans of all kinds, potatoes, cucumbers, tomatoes and tomatoes, and our first eggplant (apple green). There’s enough to eat and put by.

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This is one day’s harvest. The tomatoes that weren’t eaten straight away were canned in a tomato-apple chutney:

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In the back are peaches (like the apple, also farmers market) in syrup. Yes, that’s my fifties kitchen cabinetry: I love it!

And Amie loves to shell the red kidney and cannellini beans. We harvest the pods when they’re dry, light brown and leathery, and when you shake them the beans rattle inside. I don’t think I’ll have enough for eating (even one big meal), but there will be enough as seed for a much bigger planting next year. I don’t trust my drying methods – no barn or garage for drying the plants – so I freeze them. I hope they stay viable that way.

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Tomorrow morning I’m going to harvest and process most of the basil plants. I think I might just chop them up in the food processor and freeze them in cubes, like the Omelays. I’m also going to do a backlog of laundry, as the rest of the day will be sunny. But this afternoon I still hope to put the Fall planting seedlings in.

The Other in My Back Yard

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I am reading Jerry Mander’s In the Absence of the Sacred. The Failure of Technology and the Survival of the Indian Nations. Many points are too loosely argued for my taste – as in, I doubt it would convince my DH, who is a total techno-optimist. As a confirmation for what I believe, it reads pleasurably.

But these lines grabbed me:

With each new generation of technology, and with each stage of technological expansion into pristine environments, human beings have fewer alternatives and become more deeply immersed within technological consciousness. We have a harder time seeing our way out. Living constantly inside an environment of our own invention, reacting solely to things we ourselves have created, we are essentially living inside our own minds. Where evolution was once an interactive process between human beings and a natural, unmediated world, evolution is now an interaction between human beings and our own artifacts. (p. 32)

I have read in many environmental books that we are destroying nature, that great Other. McKibben, in his seminal End to Nature, hangs nearly his entire argument on the despair of there being just us.  I never realized what it meant until I read Mander’s words.

Don’t say that this is not true, that there is no other, that it’s just us. In many parts of our world this is already true:  in mega cities, malls, schools, work places. Look around you: what do you see that will take you out of your own mind? What do you see that is not you? Sorry, the potted palm does not count. Nor does the lawn. The creatures visiting your lawn, yes, but how often do you see them, look for them? And it is getting worse second by second.

Then you may ask: so what?

A few weeks ago I was on my way to fill up the buckets with rain water  when I came upon this creature amongst the weeds.

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A garter or garden snake, about as dangerous as a field mouse (to us, not to the field mouse). But it’s a snake, and my biological instinct was: hark! And it felt good, that jolt of surprise and rapt attention, that lurch out of the of the ordinary.

I was, for a few seconds, out of my mind.

If we eliminate what is other, then we are without surprise, without instinct, without perspective, and without the possibility of ever being truly free.

How Amie’s Summer Is Going

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Math

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Tea Party

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Parrot

“Mama, when you see it IN your eyes, but not outside your eyes, it’s a dream, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why when you open your eyes it’s no longer there.”

“Mama, Peter Pan [movie] is made up of pieces.”

“Yes, like Kipper: episodes.”

“No, Kipper episodes are stories by themselves. Peter Pan episodes are all part of one big story!”

We do a lot of outdoors stuff too, when it’s not too hot – especially gardening, and taking walks around the block. I forget my camera though.

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Yum!

More Canning, But It’s Hot!

Yesterday, on my birthday, I cooked and canned 4 quart (1 liter) and two half pint (500 ml) jars of applesauce with my new canner – I still used the hot water bath method, no high pressurizing as yet, it was simply the only pot that would hold all those jars.

It gave me even more appreciation for the materials and effort that go into processed food. I cored the 12 pounds of apples that I bought last week at the Farmers Market (that the orchardist grew, harvested, and brought to market), peeled them, quartered them, cooked them, pureed them in batches, processed them in the canner, and after hours of slaving away in my progressively steamier kitchen (no airco),  this is all I ended up with:

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That’s it?! But it’s local and organic, and I know exactly what went into these jars, and believe it or not it turned out cheaper than or as expensive as store-bought organic applesauce (*), and they were another great learning experience.

Today at the Farmers Market I  bought 10 more pints of blueberries (2 of those have already been eaten), 6 lbs of peaches and another 12 pounds of apples (different varieties this time). They’re waiting in the coolest part of the house. On my kitchen counter I am “saving up” on our very own tomatoes (Ida Gold and Glacier), which are coming in about 2 lbs a day now. Tomorrow is promising to be not so hot. Time to tackle some more blueberry jam, some chutney, some salsa?

(*) apples $12 / sugar $.50 / lemon juice $1 / electricity $?

Brewing Us Some Compost Tea

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A friend lent me the Toolbox for Sustainable City Living, which has a recipe for compost tea.  He also dropped off all the necessary equipment for making it.

  • 1 nylon stocking’s leg full of my best homemade compost (= the inoculant)
  • 5 gallons of (non-chlorinated) rain water
  • 1/4 cup of molasses (food)
  • oxygen thanks to an aquarium pump and an airstone or bubbler

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You suspend the stocking with the compost (or worm castings) in the water, squeeze it, let it bubble for an hour, then give it the molasses (or fish hydrolase, or humic acid). Then you let it bubble away for 24-36 hours. After that dilute with 5 to 10 parts of water, and apply it to the soil within 4 hours, preferably either after a good soaking by a rain storm or at dusk, so the beneficial microbes (that I hope are in my compost) can survive in their new home – my garden.

We had friends over till 9:30, for our birthday party/parties: Amie’s and mine (Amie was born on my birthday), and then I put Amie to bed. So I only just now had the opportunity to apply my 30-hour-old tea. It was a rich brown, frothy, and had no odor, and I was the one in pijamas, with the flashlight and the swarm of mosquitoes.

Garden Fruits

Amie knows why bees are good.

– Mama, excuse me, Mama? Bees are good because if there is a flower on the plant then they go into the flower to get the nectar and make honey out of it and they also do something good to the flower.

Pollinate, yes.

Despite the lack of pollinator-attracting flowers in our garden and neighborhood, the bees have done their job.

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Growing cuke (Boothby’s) and eggplant (Apple Green): will they make it?

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Ripening tomatoes (Ida Gold): nuggets of taste.

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Fatso fava bean and harvest of shelled red kidney, fava and cannelini. My drying experiment – put them out in the full sun on a white sheet – ruined the favas, but the others are drying well.

Amie sees me taking pictures of the garden and our harvests and wants to do so as well. Here she is photographing the beans:

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Canner and Stove

I can cross two more items off my “Tools/Toys” list in the sidebar. “Lookit” (*) what arrived yesterday, one after the other:

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My Presto 23 quart high pressure canner, present from DH for my birthday

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Our new wood stove, present to ourselves for our 8th wedding anniversary

That’s two big pillars of self-sufficient living right there! I haven’t used either of them yet: it’s 90 degrees and the gauge hasn’t been calibrated yet. But I have canned, as promised:

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5 1/2 pints of (hot water bath processed) blueberry jam, present from me to my family

The jars popped right on cue as I lifted them out of the water and the seals have held, so they’re good to go into the pantry. What a good feeling! And Amie watched the entire process, explaining that she had to see how I did it because then she would know it too.  So right!

(*) I don’t know where Amie picked up this “lookit” business, but now I’m saying it too!

Beginning Preparedness

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If for some reason you couldn’t leave your house, how long could you and your family survive on the food and water you have at home? If your answer is three days, you can count yourself “normal”.

If for some reason the grid blinked out, would you be able to cook that food, heat your house and light your evenings? If you answer no, congratulations, you’re “normal”.

If for some reason you had five minutes to evacuate your family, could you walk out confidently, knowing your family, and your house, will be “all set”? If your answer is again no, you guessed it, that’s “normal”.

My answers are more or less the same. And it feels awful.

What with the wood stove now (it’s being installed on Friday), and our cords upon cords of fire wood, we could heat the house and cook (though not bake), and boil some water for washing and perhaps for purifying. But that’s about it, and upon evacuation I’d have to spend my five minutes looking for our social security cards and some cash.

For months now I have lived (not very gracefully) with this gap between the fears I now take seriously, and paralysis. My paralysis stems from the slippery slope built into the “for some reason”. What reason, I ask.

Oh, it’s just a winter storm that knocked out the grid, and they’re working on it. So let’s have a week’s worth of food and a non-electric way of cooking it (if it’s not winter). But maybe there’s a sudden break in the supply of oil and while the powers that be fiddle and connive, no food is making it into the supermarket, no heating oil into the house, and no gasoline into the car. Okay, so we need two more months of stored food, and a way of washing clothes, and perhaps we should also find a reliable way of purifying rain water, or stock some drinking water in our basement. But there has been a chemical spill, and we need to hunker down. Then we’ll definitely need some good water, along with all the above and some sort of safe (and livable) room in the basement, and a way of going to the toilet there. But what if it’s a nuclear disaster? What if it’s the end of civilization and the mob is coming to get all our stocked-up emergency supplies? We’d need a gun to protect ourselves, and there we draw the line, and anyway, would it be worth it, life I mean, under such conditions?

And so it goes.

But today I received this book, Just in Case, by Kathy Harrison. And though she does discuss the dreaded Nuclear Disaster, I think with her help I could take one step down the slippery slope, stop and catch up, then take another step, etc.

It helps to already have a way of heating the house and water for the next three years, but in a few months I would also like to have:

  1. four winter months worth of stored food and recourse, for the rest of the year, to fresh, homegrown food and stored staples like grains and sugar,
  2. a year’s worth of soap, cleaning products, toothpaste and toilet paper,
  3. a well-stocked first aid kit,
  4. enough water for two months and several ways of filtering and purifying bad tap or rain water for a year,
  5. an off-grid device to charge batteries for reading and flash lights and a radio,
  6. skills like making bread, growing and canning food, chopping wood, administering first aid -  skills that I could anyway use today,
  7. emergency packs for quick evacuations.
  8. No gas masks, no nuclear bunker, no guns. Just common-sense just-in-case.

Tomorrow I plan to turn the blueberries I got from the farmer’s market into jam, to can them into eight 8 oz jars, to line them up, neatly, on a shelf in the basement, and to just stand there and look at them and say: I’ve begun.

It will feel so good.

TO DO (List) Like There’s No Tomorrow

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White sheet curtain to block the sun’s heat. Today we’re in the 90s, while yesterday we barely made the 70s.

Things we need to do before winter (update TO DO LIST in sidebar):

  • attempt compost tea
  • top dress beds with compost
  • install last rain barrel (for toilet flushing)
  • pull poison ivy all over
  • restart Starbucks coffee grounds deal
  • build and start worm bin
  • replace porch roof
  • clear ground for more beds, build beds, start digging
  • build shed next to veg garden
  • design and build hoop house
  • design balcony greenhouse
  • buy high pressure canner (probably the 23 quart Presto) and book
  • clean all canning jars and equipment
  • buy outdoor stove and/or build rocket stove
  • build pantry for canned and dried foods
  • designate/build root cellar
  • investigate rain barrel to toilet tank connection
  • plant compost crop in terrace beds
  • buy winter cover crop
  • order berry bushes, fruit trees
  • build us one of these:

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The children’s tower at Elm Bank, Wellesley, MA

  • decide about trees up front: if we remove them (all) we open a lot of space and sun for the veg and permaculture garden, make room for nut and fruit trees, a pond and grey water filtration system, make the solar hot water system on the roof viable, and triple if not quadruple our fire wood supply (wood for 10 winters: not to be laughed at). But it costs, and it necessitates the kind of landscaping for which we need to hire men with equipment…
  • organize emergency supplies
  • build solar oven
  • okay, I’ll stop here.

These are the first cherry tomatoes (Sungold). I doubt we’ll have many: the plants are mostly stem and leaves, but we’ll gladly take what they give us! Next to it the first three red kidney beans, dried in the pod. Next year I plan to greatly expand the dry bean section, if I have room.

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