Gaia Luna Video Tour: January Thaw

Gem the cat and I would like you to join us on our first ever video tour of Gaia Luna Garden.

We've chosen a pleasant day during our January thaw to make for easy walking.  You'll see where we're starting the year. And in future videos you'll be able to watch how it grows.

Even in this cold time of long darknesses, we know we've turned the corner of the seasons, and we're heading back toward Spring!

(c)2013 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

BOOKS: Library Used Book Sale 2010

Today was the first day of our local library's used book sale, something I look forward to all year long. I brought home an armload to fill mind and heart in the coming months. They're stacking up my red reading chair where I'll spend this evening browsing through them, building anticipation for future evenings spent absorbed in their contents.

My most treasured purchase this year? (Pictured R, above)

• Henry David Thoreau boxed set, including "The Maine Woods," "A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers," and "Walden"

Other fun and interesting finds (stack, above, top to bottom):

• "The Voyage of the Beagle" by Charles Darwin
• "Gift from the Sea" by Ann Morrow Lindbergh
• "On Writing Well" by William Zinsser, 25th anniversary Edition
• "Writing Alone and with Others" by Pat Schneider
• "Handbuilding" by Michael Hardy (pottery)
• "Party of One: The Loners' Manifesto" by Anneli Rufus
• "The World Without Us" by Alan Weisman
• "Thriving Beyond Sustainability: Pathways to a Resilient Society" by Andres R. Edwards
• "Green Thoughts: A Writer in the Garden" by Eleanor Perenyi
• "Punished by Rewards: The Trouble with Gold Stars, Incentive Plans, A's, Praise, and Other Bribes" by Alfie Kohn
• "Think Out of the Box" by Mike Vance (signed) and Diane Deacon
• "Co-opetition: A Revolutionary Mindset that Combines Competition and Cooperation" by Adam M. Brandenburger and Barry J. Nalebuff
• "Jewelry: A practical Guide to Creative Crafts" by Miranda Innes
• "The World of M. C. Escher" with texts by M. C. Escher and J. L. Locher
• "Creative Puzzles of the World" by Pieter van Delft & Jack Botermans

I still have a stack of reading material remaining from last year's sale, so I considered not going this year as a way to economize. Then convinced myself it would be good to find gift books for others, for birthdays and Christmas.

Did that.

But also brought home these additional "gifts" for myself. Averaging less than $2 each, they really weren't such an extravagance. Each is an affordable source of hours of entertainment and education.

I can think of worse weaknesses.

ECO ACTION: An American Eco-Radical?

Last month, my friend, Catherine, from New Zealand responded to my blog post about my decision to start air drying more of my clothes by saying:

• "No criticism of you intended, but I'm always amazed at the things we think are normal in New Zealand that seem eco-radical to Americans!"

Eco-radical?

I don't think I've ever framed my choices as "eco-radical", but perhaps they're coming across that way. It's taken me a month since my last post to find a reasoned way to explain.

Let me clarify.

I realize that most of the world, by choice or circumstance, lives in a way that has far less environmental impact than the "American" lifestyle. We are the world's largest consumers of resources. We have greatest per-capita responsibility for greenhouse gases, pollution, and waste on the planet. And while I'm proud of my country and it's people for many different reasons, THIS is not one of them.

The ECO ACTION blog posts I write here are simply accounts of my efforts to reverse old habits in my own life--habits shared by most Americans--that unnecessarily consume precious resources and adversely impact our environment without, in my opinion, improving anyone's quality of life in a way that justifies the environmental costs.

That's it.

Personal change. Not eco-radicalism, unless you want to call it that.

I visualize an Eco-Radical as someone who lives entirely off the grid AND actively draws attention to themselves in the manner of Green Peace. These are the mavens of the environmental movement. Mavens provide a nexus for change. At one extreme end of the continuum, they showing us what is possible with extreme commitment and effort. Important, but rare.

I'm radical only in the sense that I'm swimming upstream within my own culture, a culture largely shaped by corporate advertising over the past 60-70 years.

Fortunately, the numbers of those swimming in the same contrary direction is steadily increasing.

My parents came of age in Southern California of the 1940's and 50's when science and capitalism (also incorrectly equated with democracy) promised to solve the problems of generations past--disease, poverty, hunger, long work hours, little opportunity, housing insecurity, over population, tyranny, etc.--along with their own.

Advertising in magazines, on TV, billboards, etc. showed smiling families with shiny new washers and dryers, bigger cars, convenience foods, ... and an ever increasing standard of living for them or their children. More free time, large private homes with big green lawns and shady trees, safe streets where children could play, greater health and longer lives...more possessions and more time to enjoy them, that was the promise. Science would solve any unforeseen negative consequences of all this progress, just as it had everything else.

We believed it. And, largely, that promise was delivered for white middle class America. Not without negative consequences. And not fulfilled equally across racial groups, geographical regions, or economic groups.

I'm all for greater food and housing security, living without fear of violence or disease, and having enough free time to fulfill ones intellectual and spiritual potential--but our American consumer culture doesn't focus on these essentials. It's all about a search for happiness in the stuff.

I heard recently that if everyone on the planet lived the American lifestyle, the one we're trying to sell to them, we would need 6 planet earths to support the current population.

We are a country with a frontier mentality. It's an indelible part of our national identity.

During the first 300 years of our history we learned to expand our borders, expand our manufacturing and agricultural production capacity, expand our population and personal wealth. We came to believe that limitless expansion was a divine right, one granted to us by "our" God as a reward for our form of government and our "Christian" society that pleased the Creator.

How often in advertising do we hear phrases reinforcing the "right" to "buy the best" because we "deserve it." The premise is that we "work hard" and we are "good people," so we deserve all the things we can buy.

There are those who continue to believe that science will save us in the end from all the negative consequences of our limitless consumption, that we can continue on this same path without worry.

Or that environmental conditions really aren't so bad; the concept of global warming and irreversible depletion of resources is a conspiracy concocted by a atheistic scientists to frighten us.

Or that this earth is only our temporary home before we're taken up to heaven, so we shouldn't concern ourselves with its problems.

While I don't consider myself an "eco-radical", my experiences of this culture are somewhat that of an outsider.

When I was growing up my parents subscribed to "Organic Gardening" magazine. I read it from cover to cover. They grew and preserved most of the fruits and vegetables we ate in a garden and orchard irrigated in part with "gray water" from the washing machine where my mother used biodegradable soaps, and fertilized with our own composted food scraps and yard waste. They did this not so much for environmental reasons, but because they were both children during the Great Depression. For the same reason they bought nothing on credit including their house and car, they saved a large portion of my father's income for retirement, and most of our clothes were homemade.

But this was far from the norm in suburban Southern California.

My own environmental awareness began when, in 1970's Southern California, there were many days I couldn't go outside to play. The smog generated by suburban sprawl, power plants and manufacturing was so bad that my lungs ached when I did more than sit quietly on the floor. And I was a healthy child, not one with asthma or allergies. I learned from our monthly National Geographic magazines that this sort of thing was happening all around the world, and had been for decades.

I remember when they outlawed leaded gas and worked to make stricter auto emissions standards. And the air began to clear. I remember hearing about "Love Canal", and "Silent Spring", and the clean-up of Boston Harbor. At that time, when the movement to start recycling our bottles and cans was in it's infancy, manufacturers complained that it would cost too much and they'd have to pass the increased costs along to consumers. The usual threat. Voters had the courage to pass the recycling bill in California anyway.

And I remember the first Earth Day. And the hope I felt for the future.

So, yes, our family has a washer and dryer, a dishwasher and other modern "conveniences"; two cars (though both about 10 years old); a house with a big green lawn and shady trees; safe streets where our children played; more free time, better health care and longer lives than my great-grandparents could expect...more possessions and more time to enjoy them.

But what shall I do with all this? Shall I continue to buy and waste and consume because that's what my culture says is OK, because they say it is my "right" to do so? Should I feel guilty about all this.

Or should I begin to change what I can. Use less. Consume less. Buy less. Enjoy the simple things and relationships with people more.

The things things we have are blessings, not rights. When the founders of this country were talking about our rights the pursuit of unlimited consumer goods is not what they meant by "the pursuit of happiness". But that's another discussion.

If this sort of thinking makes me an eco-radical, then go ahead and label me as such. But only within the context of my own culture. A culture that is desperately in need of change, for the good of all.

And to my New Zealand friend, though you "certainly don't worry about whether [your] undergarments are 'suitable' for drying outside", I will continue to hide mine away from view. Would you hang out your undergarments where your boss or customers could see them? This is not only my home, but also my place of business. I'm not eager to subject my students, their parents, or my recording clients to such a sight. And I'm certain they would agree.

ECO ACTION: 2nd Farm Share & More Tag Saling

I'm a big fan of abundance on a shoestring.

Another armload of gorgeous vegetables today from Studio Farm.

I didn't make it to the farmers market to pick them up.  I thought the market was 10-1 today as it had been during the winter.  Spring and summer hours are actually 9-Noon.  Also, I'd stopped at every tag sale along the way between home and the market.  When I arrived the park was empty.

So, I arranged to go out to the Stonyledge Farm this afternoon to pick them up instead.  I was greeted by several happy free-range chickens as I got out of the car.  Belinda and Ed were very accommodating.

This week's CSA half-share included (photo above, clockwise from top left): a very large head of tatsoi, a generous helping of mustard greens, 2 heads of kale (I think), chard, 3 small heads of loose-leaf lettuce (red and green), spinach, a bunch of fragrant mint, chives, mixed greens with flowers, half-dozen very large eggs, and several long rhubarb stalks.

And the fate of last week's veggies was as follows:

• Tatsoi stir fry with garlic scapes, onions, sesame oil, brown basmati rice, scrambled egg, and 5 chinese seasoning.
• Eggs: used 2 in stir fry, 2 in tapioca pudding, and 2 hard boiled.  They turned the tapioca pudding a wonderful shade of yellow that just can't be matched by grocery store eggs.
• Spinach, kale (or was that mustard greens?), and broccoli rabe all steamed and eaten.
• Lettuce used for several salads, shredded for black bean burritos, and in sandwiches

All delicious!

As of this morning, I only had a little lettuce, a few garlic scapes, the 2 hard boiled eggs, and some rhubarb remaining.  Because it was so fresh when brought home last Saturday the lettuce is none the worse for a spending a week in the refrigerator.  Much, much better than store bought.  The remaining lettuce and eggs will become a salad for dinner this evening, with rhubarb crisp for dessert.

In spite of the doubts I expressed last Saturday we ate our way through the vegetables quite easily. If I hadn't gotten involved in a project, lost track of time, and ended up skipping lunch a couple of times this week we would have completely emptied the vegetable drawer in time for today's pick up.

One of the reasons I signed up for this CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) farm share was to learn.

I wanted to learn about new foods, new ways of cooking familiar foods, new insights for my own garden, and to experience the feeling of enjoying an abundance of fresh healthy food on a regular basis.

I wouldn't have chosen to put all these greens in my grocery cart if I'd been buying them at the super market, but I've learned that what looked like a lot of fresh spinach and kale turned out to be just enough to accompany several meals when steamed.

Just right, not too much.

Tatsoi stir fry was also a first for me and it turned out great.  I wouldn't have taken a chance on this at the grocery store, not knowing in advance what it would taste like or how to cook it.  At the farmer's market, though, Dot Wingate gave me simple verbal instructions for cooking it when I picked up my share.  It couldn't have been easier or tastier.

I figure that nature has a wisdom of its own.  The abundance of fresh greens available in spring is probably just what our bodies need to restore themselves at the end of winter and get ready for summer's active season.  These greens were loaded with flavor and probably lots of good healthy stuff never find on a food label.

I know that I can't remember ever feeling healthier.  Looking forward to more.

__________________________________________________

Here are this weekend's fabulous tag sale finds (photo above, clockwise from top left):

For a GRAND TOTAL of $27

• 3 variagated solomon's seal plants
• 7 antique hand-painted china dessert plates, signed by a (locally) well-known local artist
• 8 Books: "Lectures and Biographical Sketches" by Ralph Waldo Emerson, "The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier," "Little Songs of Long Ago", "Drawing with the Right Side of the Brain," "A Whack on the Side of the Head: How You Can Be More Creative" by Roger von Oech, "Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook" (to give), "The Food-Lover's Garden," "Neal's Yard Natural Remedies"
• A small, 1 page-per-day diary for writing down little daily happy things
• 2 pocket charts (teaching tools)
• Kitchen Stuff: a pastry knife, a blue-green resealable glass jar, a garlic press (actually I'll use this for extruding clay, not garlic), a cookie press, AND a sturdy 10 inch cast-iron skillet--I'd been looking for one for a long time (favorite find of the day).
• Misc: 1 new package of binder tabs, 2 new plastic pocket folders, an awl, a very basic digital camera with cable and software (tested and works on PC), two pair small sharp scissors (I keep losing my nail scissor, not good for one who plays piano and works with clay), an artist's paintbrush, a small hot plate, two colorful coin purses, a set of magnetic words (for songwriting play), and 9 new tennis balls (to turn into teaching toys).

Here's close-up of the hand-painted china plates.

Do I really need any of this?  Probably not.  Is it truly frugal to buy things I don't need?  Again, no.

On the other hand, these things will be used and enjoyed.  No additional resources were consumed to make them.  Each piece has a story and a connection to others.  I'm giving a good home to things that others no longer wanted, like bringing home abandoned puppies.

And I had a good time in the process.  I like the experiencing of happening upon things unexpectedly.  I like the feeling of discovery.

Now, I probably need to go through our house and liberate a few of my unused possessions so they can move on to homes where they'll be appreciated.

GAIA LUNA: Garden Girl

I'm Garden Girl again today.  

Going out into the sunshine to get the soil ready for planting, dig up weeds that didn't get removed last fall (like goldenrod roots), and move around some perennials that are in the way.

Garden Girl's Superpowers:

• cultivating growth and sustainability
• transforming dirt and seeds into food and flowers
• turning yard waste and kitchen scraps into rich compost

Superpowers require sunshine, rain, and a variety of microscopic helpers in order to operate.

[NOTE:  I've been posting brief status updates on my Facebook profile nearly every day for the past several months, but not much here.  Decided this morning that I would use some of those as a jumping off point for this space.]

GAIA LUNA: Early Spring Seedlings

These are my little plant friends, grown from seeds, planted over the past several weeks.

From left to right: red bell peppers, roma tomatoes, peas, leeks (right top), borage (right middle), onions (right bottom)

The trays and the plastic pots are all recycled or re-purposed.  They're sitting on blocks of styrofoam that come into our home as packaging to keep their soil temperature more even. On cold cloudy days I cover them with sheets of clear bubble wrap from packages we've received.

INTENTION: Mid-Winter Stirrings

The snow is falling outside today.

Inside I've taking steps to plant the things I'd like to see begin to grow this Spring.  Nothing particularly exciting, really.  Like the first unseen stirrings of seeds and sap beneath the frozen earth, the actions I've taken are mundane though crucial to what I hope will follow.

Yesterday, I installed Adobe Photoshop 7.0 on my iMac--my primary computer now--and began doing graphics work there instead of on my old Mac laptop.  

The addition of a title image (header) at the top of this blog is one result.  The other is a similar new header on my Sound Krayons Music blog.  

[In the past, I've only had an early version of Photoshop installed on my old Mac laptop.  It was cumbersome to edit images there then move them over to the new Mac for use on the web and in documents.  This upgrade opens up new creative and business possibilities, things I've been hoping to do for a long time.  The old Mac is too old to connect easily with the internet.]

Then today, I successfully transferred a song file for the first time from MOTU Performer on my old Mac to Digital Performer (DP) on my iMac.

[Again, I'd done all my MIDI work in the past on the old Mac without the benefit of digital audio available in DP.  After some trial and error, I was able to move the files from the old Mac by doing a "Save As" MIDI to a flash drive first, then opening in DP on the iMac and doing a "Save As" a DP file to the desktop did the trick.]

Blah, blah, blah technical stuff...

Like the big bale of seed starting mix I bought yesterday and hauled from the car to barn this morning, now I'll need to move all my old graphics and Performer files from one computer to another before I can use them in this new environment.

This sort of thing--to my mind--is the dry, lifeless part of the creative process.

I get discouraged because this part of the process seems to come so slowly.  I thought to myself, yesterday, as I scooped buckets of compressed potting soil from the bale and dumped them into an empty trash can: 

Are this year's flower and vegetable seeds planted and growing yet?  No.  

Are the recycled pots from last year cleaned and ready to set in the sunny spot?  No.  

Do I have everything I need to get things going?  No.

But today I have made one very small dent in a very long process.

One small bucketful at a time.  Peat moss fibers flying in the air landing on my skin, smelling fresh earth for the first time since last fall.  These are the tangible promises of things to come.

No guarantee that weather or pests or health will cooperate in the months ahead, but on this one day for this short time I've done my part.

Similarly, there is no guarantee that I'll reach my distant creative goals, but on this one day for this short time I've done my part.

With these small, unglamorous efforts--work on my computers solving one small problem at a time, repetitive work to prepare for planting--the things I visualize creating and sharing will have some chance to flourish.

One small bucketful at a time.

(c)2009 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

Groundhog Day (aka St. Bridget's Day or Imbolc)

In honor of Groundhog Day--the day midway between the first day of Winter and the first day of Spring--I visited the garden center and purchased a bale of seed starting mix (special potting soil) along with a bunch of peat pots.  

Then I went out to the barn, brought in all the plastic pots and aluminum trays I'd saved from past years, and took them down to the basement until they can be washed and sanitized for reuse.

I've already moved furniture to clear a sunny spot indoors for starting the seasons first seeds.

Winter cannot last forever.

GAIA LUNA: Harvesting What Isn't

Thirty spokes share the wheel's hub;

It is the centre hole that makes it useful.

Shape clay into a vessel;

It is the space within that makes it useful.

Cut doors and windows for a room;

It is the holes that make it useful.

Therefore profit comes from what is there;

Usefulness from what is not there

~ Lao Tsu, From Tao-Te Ching

Health brings life filled with activity.  Illness empties time to its barest essence.

Health allows forward motion.  Illness stops the wheel in mid-rotation.

It was the emptying, the resting, that brought clarity about the perpetual motion of my healthy life.  This was the useful outcome of two months of illness;  once I was able to get past the first heat of frustration and anger (at not being able to do everything I'd planned for myself), I began to see with vividness and gratitude the small things that could happen.

Back before I got sick, I'd planted corn from seed for the first time, started indoors before the soil had warmed, then planted out in early June.  When the corn went untended, with little rain for many weeks, I gave up hope of growing anything more than bare stalks.

Even so, in late August I harvested a dozen perfectly formed ears of corn.  The stalks where spindly and short, but they had overcome adverse conditions to fulfill their potential.

The lesson learned: Plant the seeds.

Don't worry.  Just do it.

Within each seed is a powerful will to become.

Even if you're unable to tend it something will still come of it.  If nothing else, you'll learn that you can plant a seed and watch it grow.  You'll get the joy of experience.  And you'll either learn what it takes to make it produce, or what can stunt it.  

Knowledge is the most valuable harvest.  It's yours to keep no matter what the outcome.

Ideas are an artist's seeds. An artists plants ideas by beginning the process of realization.

Even when the process of realization is interrupted,  the artist may return to find the idea has produced something useful.

It's up to me to begin.  It's up to me to do what I can.  And I've also seen clearly that things can become what they're meant to be even without my direct involvement.  

I can let go and my dreams won't fall apart.

At times, my role in the creative process must be simply to sit still and watch the seeds of planted ideas unfold and grow as they will.

GAIA LUNA: Fall Harvest 08

Happy Autumnal Equinox, to those in the Northern Hemisphere.  It's a day to celebrate our creative harvest.

The picture above is the last big harvest from Gaia Luna: one spaghetti squash, half-a-dozen each sweet italian banana peppers and bell peppers (red and green), a few jalapeno peppers, several acorn squash, and an arm-load of under-sized delicata squash, all topped by a bunch of pink cosmos.

This is far more than I thought the garden would produce with so little water and weeding during the height of summer.  It falls far short of what I had envisioned last spring, but vastly exceeds my most desperate hopes during the many weeks I was confined to the house.

The only credit I can take for this harvest is in minimally preparing the soil, planting the seeds and erecting a fence to protect them from deer, all prior to the first weeks of June.  Everything else, quite literally, was done by the sun and the wind and the rain.  At the end of it all, I simply walked out with my clippers and gathered what the plants chose to supply.

Other things didn't go so well.

The zucchini, yellow crook-neck, and patty pan squash plants I'd grown from seed were stunted when I mistakenly pealed off their paper pots before planting, damaging their tiny new roots.  This and the lack of water yielded only a handful of summer squash.  This was a blessing in disguise.  They produced just the amount I could deal with.

I planted three kinds of cucumbers.  Because I couldn't get the rabbit fencing up, groundhogs and rabbits got into the garden and ate the growth tips off each.  Two varieties died from this and lack of water.  The third, the lemon cucumbers, produced prolifically enough for many salads plus a large jar of refrigerator dill pickles.

I planted tomatoes, too, but didn't get nets over them.  Bluejays and crows carried away each tomato before it had ripened.

A large net was thrown over the blueberry bushes, but it had unnoticed holes in it this year.I hadn't the strength to fix it.  Catbirds got in and ate all the blueberries.  There will be no frozen blueberries from the garden for my breakfast cereal this winter, no blueberry jam.  Very sad, but ...

There was another solution.  Once I was feeling better again I went to a pick-your-own orchard and brought home fruit to freeze and can.  I brought peaches, to eat fresh and preserve, home from vacation and from a local farm stand.  I made friends with someone who had more zucchini than she knew what to do with so I could make bread-and-butter pickles.

More soon about the meaning all this has communicated to me, in the world of gardening as metaphor.

GAIA LUNA: Demure Dogwood

When rain drops grow heavy, the kousa dogwood tree outside our front door bows low in greeting, just as its Japanese ancestors might.

  

Delicate geishas with powdered faces nod politely while I balance on our top step, screen door behind me held open with right elbow and hip.

I am the awkward tourist, camera in hand.

They giggle demurely behind leafy fans.

(c)2008 Kay Pere - Effusive Muse Publishing

GAIA LUNA: Strawberries-First Harvest

Today the strawberry harvest began.  I picked them as the sun was coming up, just enough fresh berries for this morning's breakfast cereal.  A precious taste of spring sunshine.

There have been home-grown berries for breakfast almost every day since last June.

First, at the beginning of June '07, there were the fresh strawberries from the 9-foot circular bed at the center of Gaia Luna, planted the year before.

Then the blueberry harvest followed--enough gathered fresh each day to last through September of last year, enough frozen to last until just this week, all from just three bushes.

Another season of little miracles begins today with this handful of beautiful strawberries.

GAIA LUNA: May Planting

Welcome to the new improved Gaia Luna Garden. 

We put in a new purple picket fence around the garden in April, which you can see it in the distance, just beyond the white barn.  The pink flowers, near at hand, are azaleas

In the photo below, we stand at the entrance to Gaia Luna looking East toward the newly expanded growing area. The old enclosure held an area approximately, 32 x 32 ft.  The new fence surrounds an area more than double this, at 40 x 56 ft.

Above the purple pickets are two layers of 3 ft galvanized fencing to keep the deer out while allowing butterflies and other pollinators through.  The entrance is blocked by plastic mesh until we build the gate.
Gem, the cat, helps to patrol the garden.  She's nonchalantly busy keeping rabbits and birds away from the tomatoes, Italian parsley and zucchini squash I planted last week.
Yesterday, I added trellises to the garden.  They are of my own design, using readily available materials from a discount store and the local hardware store.  Each trellis costs about $20 US, but will last for many years, and provides a flexible set-up.

This trellis will support cucumber vines, started from seed indoors several weeks ago and set out yesterday.
It's constructed of 4 plant hangers (2 top and 2 bottom, the bottom two hung upside-down) with cross pieces of steel electrical conduit.  I decided not to use petroleum-based heavy PVC pipe for philosophical/environmental reasons.
Jute twine spans the distance between the top and bottom pipes.

The top brackets are movable from season to season. I used galvanized metal screws, spaced along the posts so the upper bar can be raised or lowered depending on the needs of plant to be supported, anywhere from 4 ft to 8 ft in height.
I'm using companion planting (inspired by this book) though out Gaia Luna.

Here young eggplant and jalapeno pepper plants are nestled with foxgloves behind, sedum ground cover in front, and ladies mantel in the foreground.  Marigolds and nasturtiums will be added as the season progresses.  

This isn't necessarily a recommended combination, but the diversity of inter-planting is guaranteed to produce healthier plants vs. monoculture.
Looking West, late in the day, the sun shines down on the central bed of strawberries, all in bloom, encircled by lambs ears.  Within the next two weeks there will be fresh strawberries for breakfast.

The lettuce and cabbage bed is bordered on yellow onions.  To the left of these grow four short rows of peas in an intensive planting. Red and white sedum edging occupies the foreground.
The sun sinks lower as we step back outside Gaia Luna's purple picket fence.

The last light of the day touches the tangle of blueberry bushes, raspberry vines and the broad leaves of rhubarb.

A few days ago, I froze some rhubarb for adding to preserves later in the season.  I'm still enjoying blueberries picked and frozen last August, and last summer's homemade blueberry jam from the pantry.
April and May are just the beginning, the beginning of planting, the beginning of growing and harvesting.

Much awaits us this summer inside the purple picket fence of Gaia Luna.

(c) 2007 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

Signs of Spring: Witch Hazel & Peas

Today in town I saw one of the first indications that spring is right around the corner.

The witch hazel tree in the veterans memorial park is blooming.

Every year this is the first sign that winter has loosened its grip and warmer weather is on its way. First after the snowdrops under our dogwood tree.

It even felt like spring today. Sunny morning, birds singing, warmer than it has been.

I stopped the car and got out to take pictures.

Have been intending to do this for years. Today I did.

The air in the small park was fragrant with the subtle smell of witch hazel flowers.

Inspired, I came home and pulled on my gardening clothes for the first time since late fall.

I cleared away leaves in Gaia Luna and planted peas and garlic. Again, this was a first. Every year I intend to plant peas, intend to plant garlic, but something else always seems more important.

Now there are sugar snap peas and two kinds of hard neck garlic waiting under the ground, preparing to grow.

Around here they say, "Plant your peas on Saint Patrick's Day." Or is it, "Plant your peas by Saint Patrick's Day."? I'm not sure. If it's too early for peas and they never come up, I'll just plant more. I'll probably plant more even if they do come up.

I love fresh peas. All kinds.

The garlic should have been planted last fall, but this is early enough that I think it will be OK to harvest by late August or early September, as is the custom in this area.

Clouds rolled in and rain began to fall as I worked. The cat huddled close in an attempt to stay dry while I continued in the downpour. My wool coat, smelling of wet sheep, kept me warm just the same.

Today, intention became inspiration became action.

Spring is on its way.

(c)2008 ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

Root Cellaring - First Effort

This fall I began reading up on storing fruits and vegetables without refrigeration in a root cellar. Books from the library provided the information.

I had originally thought the basement stairs coming down from outside would be a good place to make a root cellar, but that turned out to be unworkable. As soon as outdoor temperatures dropped below freezing, so did the temps in the stairwell, making it unusable for fresh food storage without some major modifications.

The rest of our unheated basement turned out to be ideal. The old section, where the furnace is, stays about 45-55 F in the winter. The newer section is cooler; it never rises above the low 40s. I took temperature and humidity readings to verify all this. The books recommended slightly lower temperatures for some things, to prolong storage, but I've had no problems.

Since October, here are a few of the fruits and veggies I've stored successfully without refrigeration.

In th new section of basement 40F storage:

- 20 lbs of winesap apples: wrapped individually in waxed paper to prevent moisture loss. I layered these in a ventilated box that had once been used to ship citrus fruit, a sheet of cardboard between each layer with space around the edges to allow air circulation inside the box. A pan of water was kept nearby to boost humidity. We picked the apples in early October from a pick-your-own orchard. After 5 months of fresh eating and cooking, 8 apples remain, all in very good shape.

- 40 lbs of grapefruit and 20 lbs of naval oranges, kept in the ventilated cardboard boxes they came in. These were from a school fundraiser. We picked up our fruit from the school at the beginning of December, and just finished the last grapefruit about 2 weeks ago. That's about 2 1/2 months of storage with none lost to spoilage or drying out. There are about 10 oranges remaining, all in good condition except one that had begun to shrivel. The citrus was stored on the same table as the apples.

When all the citrus fruit and apples have been eaten, the boxes will be saved for storing next year's winter fruits and veggies.

In the old section of basement 45-55F storage
(temps depend on distance from the furnace):

- 4 large butternut squash: One of the books I read suggested that the winter squash stored in the basement near the furnace lasted longer because of slightly warmer and dryer conditions. I bought these butternut squash from a farmer's field in early October at a good per pound price. We have eaten two so far, prepared in a variety of dishes: steamed, roasted, cooked with black beans and onion, and made into soup. The flavor seems to be sweetening with storage. The remaining two are just as sound as when they were brought home, 5 months ago. This coming summer I plan to grow my own winter squash, knowing that I can keep them and use them until the following spring.

- 10 lbs russet potatoes: purchased on sale from the grocery store in November. These have been stored near the furnace, on the inside basement stairs descending from the kitchen. They've held up reasonably well. Some are starting to grow shoots and roots and others are not as firm as they were 3 months ago, but they're still usable. I've only lost one due to spoilage with only a handful remaining. The warm dry conditions near the top of the inner stairs by the furnace are not ideal for potatoes. The books recommended similar storage conditions to apples, but said not to store them near each other because flavors may muddle. I've moved those remaining to the table in the other part of the basement, with the apple and orange boxes but not too close, to see if I can keep them all happy until they're used up.

- 5 lbs brown onions: purchased on sale from the grocery store in November. Again, kept on the inner basement stairs near where the potatoes were stored. About a third of the original number remain, all in good condition, though one or two have sent up tentative, pale green shoots. Keeping as well if not better than in the refrigerator.

- 6 bunches of garlic: same as onions. Doing fine.

I count this experiment as a success--storing our winter fruits and veggies without refrigeration and without spoilage.

I'm emboldened to grow more this summer and store more for next year.

GAIA LUNA: Seed Saving

Last fall I saved seeds from my marigolds, cosmos, nasturtiums, string beans, and a couple of herb plants.

In the photo they are drying in the sunroom after being separated from the flowery parts. Not so difficult to do. Here are enough seeds to grow several gardens full of flowers, the equivalent of a whole rack of seed packets from the nursery from just a few plants.

These are old fashioned varieties that will stay true to type, meaning that plants grown from these seeds will be the same as the parent plants, at least in theory. I got two books on seed saving for Christmas that confirm this.

Right now, the seeds are stored in loosely covered glass canning jars on a the cool shelf of the attic, waiting.

Soon, soon ...

GAIA LUNA: Seeds

Been gone from the blog for about 3 month since my last post.

Just living and doing, and living and not doing.

I've rediscovered the joys of just sitting and thinking, or sitting and not thinking about anything in particular, staring at passing clouds and light on tree branches like I did when I was a kid. I highly recommend it. Thoughts wander in wonderful directions when allowed the space to do so.

Last night I ordered FREE 2008 seed catalogs from the following sources.

Johnny's Select Seeds
Seeds of Change
Kitchen Garden Seeds
White Flower Farm
Burpee
Park
Gurneys

I'd fallen off their mailing lists because it has been so long since I ordered anything. Had them sent to my PO box so they wouldn't get mixed in with all the other junk mail and accidentally sent to the recycling bin.

Some companies sell organic seeds, others do not.

In anycase, I'm beginning to feel anticipation, looking forward to March planting of early vegetables this year.

Creative intentions are being readied for planting, too.

As always at this stage, they are numerous and unsprouted, like seeds held in the hand before the soil has begun to warm. Those that eventually reach the stage where they can put on leaves and set fruit will be something I'm willing to write about. For now I keep them cradled within my cupped palm and curled fingers.

GAIA LUNA: Grounds for the Ground

Compost!

Very few people get excited about the potential of rotting organic matter, but I'm one of them.

I'd heard that Starbucks gives away their spent coffee grounds to gardeners just for the asking. So this morning at about 10:30, after exercising, I stopped in and got the morning's grounds for my garden. When I asked, the girl behind the counter didn't hesitate for a moment. She added the filters from the machines into a large bag already full of grounds and cheerfully double bagged the whole lot for me to take. I walked away with about 20 lbs of grounds, which I added directly to the soil in Gaia Luna.

According to several sources (see below) coffee grounds are a good source of nitrogen for building the soil. The food I grow and consume gets its nutrients from the ground in which it grows. I'm intent on making my garden soil as rich and healthy as I possibly can, improving it each year.

Last June, I snapped a picture of my compost bins.



At the time there were mostly filled with straw mulch recently removed from the strawberry patch, fresh spring grass clippings and kitchen scraps.

Now they hold the remnants of tomato, squash, and bean plants gone by, chopped up sunflower stalks, frost-killed cosmos and nasturtiums, a large bucket load of fallen apples from beside the driveway, plus several months more kitchen scraps from daily cooking and summer preserving. They're a little short on brown, carbon rich material right now, so when I get a chance I'll rake up some fallen leaves and pine needles to add.

I'll also rake decayed leaves from last fall to add directly to the garden beds, to balance out the nitrogen rich coffee grounds.

I'm not an expert composter by any stretch of the imagination. I just dump stuff in and stir it around every so often with a shovel or pitch fork. It does it's thing, breaking down plant material and egg shells into a rich crumbly brown earthy material that grows better vegetables.

It doesn't stink unless I add too many kitchen scraps and leave them too close to the surface without piling dry leaves and things on top.

To me, it's the ultimate in recycling: today's potato peelings and coffee grounds become next summer's green bean salad.

Here's some more info on composting:

• http://www.mastercomposter.com/
• http://www.mastercomposter.com/survey/coffee.html
• Starbucks on composting coffee
• US Composting Council
  

GAIA LUNA: By Design?

©2007 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

Gaia Luna, my art garden, now has its own logo.

I constructed its elements from a scanned and altered image of one of my "Spiral Drop" pottery necklaces.

©2007 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

During the summer I had designed new packaging for several new necklaces. The "Spiral Drop" is one of 8 new designs that grew from a whole new set of handmade pottery stamps I'd created this past winter.

The scan above was turned into the black and white graphic below using Photoshop.

©2007 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

This simple image, in turn, became the germinal design element of the Gaia Luna logo. Each shape, each curve was derived from this basic form.

Stamps created just for fun lead to new necklaces, which lead to new packaging, which unfolded into the garden logo. I like the way it all interrelates and unfolds organically.

This logo combines symbols for the cycles of earth and moon, the cycles of the creative process, and our connection with these as co-creators of life. This image grew from many years of sun drenched of contemplation. It emerged as the culmination of a wonderful, peaceful, abundant summer just past.

The image grew more from a desire for artistic and spiritual expression than from necessity.

I envision painting it on a sign to hang at the garden entrance, printing it on canning labels for jams, relishes and pickles to give as gifts or sell along with my pottery and CDs, ... and who-knows-what else.

The idea is to create what seems right at the time then discover where it leads.

Gaia Luna is the reason I took the summer off from blogging. I've been too busy harvesting armloads of veggies and berries to spend much time at the computer.

I've been busy digging through cookbooks from the library, collecting recipes, and teaching myself to make jam and pickles, can, freeze, and dehydrate piles of produce. I've been busy weeding and composting, watering and petting the cats out in the summer sunshine.

I've been consumed with painting 25, 8-foot sections of purple picket fence to provide more substantial protection from animal intruders for the garden. We'll put up the fence early next spring as soon as the ground thaws. Plans also include an arbor.

I've taken lots of pictures of the garden this summer. I'll begin to post these once the flurry of gardening activity has subsided.

This is a celebration of summer's end, an anticipation of things to come as the seasons turn another time around.

©2007 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing