Friday’s work party found two of us in the greenhouse and two more outside.
Joseph and I worked in the main garden, with me pulling grasses, and Joseph uprooting yellow dock. Note the pile he’s already accumulated center front. That’s puppy shadow in red.
In the greenhouse, most of the seeds have been planted, sprouted, with more and more of them needing to be given more room in larger containers. Marita and Daniel here. The work of aligning with nature, spring 2020, continues.
Note fire in firebox. Still cold out Friday morning. Especially cold last night, somewhere in the 20s. Fire all night, too. Here’s what it looked and felt like today, Sunday, mid morning, cozy inside, sun already high, and nary a cloud in the sky.
We are going to have two openings in the next few months. Just as with the plants, there are cycles of ebb and flo with residents in Green Acres Village. Two people are interested, even prior to the fb post, see below. One of them, a woman recommended by John who used to live here, is coming from New York City to check us out in late spring. The other spot may be taken by a wonderful young woman who attended several of our Community Dinners last summer. This is actually the usual way people enter here as residents, by getting to know us ahead of time.
But just in case one or both of these fall through, here’s the post I put up on fb, to announce the openings.
Oops! Just noticed it says start up for Community Dinners is April 4th. It’s actually Thursday, April 7th.
This year’s Spring Equinox occurs at 11:34 AM EDT, March 20, 2022, in Bloomington, Indiana. That’s when the Sun, traveling one degree per day, leaves the final degree of the zodiac 29°59′ Pisces for the first degree of the zodiac 0°00′ Aries! Looking at the sky, it’s when the Sun rises in the east and sets in the west at the midway point of its northward to southward migration.
Let us remember to, or learn how to, balance the opposites within ourselves, light and dark, conscious and unconscious; and let us welcome, until Summer Solstice three months hence, the increasing light!
Remember this, from last Sunday’s post? Marita and Annie digging out the hole for the back stoop?
Here’s the 8 in thick slab that was going into it.
Well, the deed is now done. Yesterday, three strong men converged, Dan, who used to live here, plus Chris and Justin who live here now. A difficult, but coordinated action; the hole was perfect and it took only ten minutes.
This is an example of a goal that was reached, easily! YES!
As ever, during this season, the greenhouse is action central. We’re taking turns with daily watering, and now that most seeds have germinated, new farm manager Daniel asks us to not water so much, or the roots will get moldy! Okay! (That went out in a text message yesterday.)
At Friday’s work party, Daniel and Annie check the condition of the seedlings before transplanting some of them.
Joseph and I, for both Tuesday and Friday morning work parties, worked cleaning up the main garden and laying more chips on the paths, getting it where we want it to be before planting, mostly after Mother’s Day. Except for peas, already in, all over the place, thanks to Annie.
Looking around, some perennials are now visible, including motherwort!
One of our Garden Towers is in use all year long, growing herbs in a smaller greenhouse.
This Equinox morning, I went to the greenhouse, and saw many of the seedlings covered, likely thanks to Daniel, since it was cold last night. I didn’t check, but I bet the heat pad underneath some of them was on as well.
But they’re all fine. Including the chard . . .
and this tomato plant, peeking out of its cover.
Lots of daffodils, all over Bloomington. Here’s a particularly shy one, peeking out.
The situation world-wide makes what we are doing here utterly necessary as one tiny experimental template for a transformed future. Please see this, yesterday’s post on my personal site:
Meanwhile, also yesterday, I used some precious gas in my thankfully efficient, but rusting-on-the-bottom 2006 Prius to drive 7.5 miles so that my dog Shadow and I could commune with the tall trees on a Griffy Lake path. It helps me greatly to enter their calm, spacious presence, if but for only one hour, during these tumultuous times on our home planet. Indeed, nature is my church.
Shadow and I were there earlier than most people get up on Saturday mornings, around 8 AM. I saw only two parked cars, plus a fairly new red truck with a tarp covering stuff of some kind in back; and here’s what drew my attention: small tarps covering the insides of the windows, which were rolled up with a couple of inches of the top of the tarps flapping in the breeze. Hmmm . . . I snorted, assuming a homeless man inside, who had stopped for the night.
One hour later, on our return to the lot, the red truck was just pulling out, flapping tarps gone, a young woman at the wheel, and a license plate indicating she was handicapped.
Wow! Compassion flooded through me. Not a man, but a woman, alone, and not just needing to sleep in her truck in the Griffy Lake parking lot, but handicapped!
Why it’s easier for me to empathize with a woman than a man is probably obvious, since I am a woman, who has seen my own times of desperate struggle for survival.
But now, the entire human race, men, women, gender benders, children — is headed down (up) into inflation so extreme that the entire economy will likely shut down, making it imperative that we re-learn how to connect and cooperate with each other as we grow our own food — and, use leftovers! — in the kitchen, in the garden, and other past projects. Whatever stuff we’ve already got, use it! Repair it if necessary! Repurpose it! Cobble together with other stuff in creative ways to meet unmet needs!
As usual, with Life on Earth, “what we’re doing here is moving stuff around”; which in turn, remember, is just an excuse for relationships!
Growing local food cooperatively is just for starters. Every area of life that we used to take for granted in our “on demand,” “convenience-oriented,” “just in time” society that has recently devolved into extreme divisiveness is to undergo profound, inexorable, long-lasting transformation.
Friday’s morning work party was so engaging for me that I forgot to take pictures. While Daniel (and others? ) were in the greenhouse working with the seedlings, and Marita had to start by “washing a chicken’s butt,” Joseph and I were out in the main garden, attempting to lightly sift (but often ending up clumping; should I use a shovel? a fork?) a large leftover pile of soil that had been covered and out of the way onto existing beds. Looking at this sight later, I recognized that we had thereby broken one sacrosanct permaculture principle: never leave soil exposed! Always mulch over it!
We do have one straw bale extra, so this afternoon I will scatter straw on the newly exposed beds.
Here’s what’s left of the leftover pile . . .
Aa newly exposed bed.
View of more of the garden’s newly exposed beds, plus notice the two chip drops outside the fence. We share our chip drops with the family across the street, and use them to cover all paths. (Chips themselves are leftovers, from downed trees . . . Permaculture: “all waste is food.”)
A few photos from last Tuesday morning, at the first work party of the week:
Joseph, transplanting . . . chard?
Daniel, with seedling . . . tomato?
These golden “always dependable since 1868” seed packets held seeds that did not germinate. No dates on their covers, so we don’t know when they were packaged. BUT: these were the only seeds that did not germinate, despite that this year we concentrated on stocks of left over seed from previous years, rather than ordering new seeds. Good call, new farm manager, Daniel!
Marita and Annie (butt first) decided to use the morning to hack out space for a gigantic eight-inch thick block of granite and concrete (leftover from a previous project) as their back stoop. Annie is figuring out how to level and slant the stoop slightly away from the house, so that rain will run off that way. Good idea . . .
Looming problem: how to move the giant block? Another Daniel, who used to live here, says he can help. Both Colin and our present Daniel have bad backs right now; Marita, Aya, Annie and Joseph are somewhat strong, and me not a bit strong; luckily Justin, very strong! — returns today from a week-long Florida vacation. So we’ll have to figure out a date for this task, and I’m sure we could get a few neighbors to come help, if needed.
Our twice weekly work parties are gathering steam, thanks to the sun’s role in life on earth. March Madness? Not here. Instead, productivity.
In and around the greenhouse, Joseph, Aya, and Daniel especially have taken charge of repotting little seedlings in bigger pots when their roots need room. Daniel and Marita have been doing most of the watering, but this task will likely get divvied up further among the group at tomorrow evening’s monthly meeting.
By Friday, more of the seedlings needed repotting. Here’s Joseph, with tomatoes, working in the back.
Beautiful!
Also, on Friday, a friend of Annie had shipped some blueberry bushes to her, four of which we decided to plant by the fence along the road, where neighbors who walk by can also feast on them.
They’re tiny right now, but will grow, and imagine they enjoyed last night’s gentle rain. We planted them with a bit of our homemade compost in each hole.
Finally, there’s the garage wall, which was identified as a problem that needed to be fixed when the rental inspection person visited that property (an every three year occasion). The fix, according to the city, was simple, just repair the sill to one window.
Well, my son Colin didn’t agree. He said the entire wall needed to be exposed, because who knows what kind of rot is in there. But Colin has been suffering from a nerve problem in his right shoulder and arm, plus his bad knee was acting up. Luckily, I was able to postpone the re-inspection, twice. But the third time was told sternly, that this is the final appointment. If we cannot make this appointment I will have to go before some board of appeals. That was about a month ago. Theoretically, we had plenty of time, since the drop dead date was March 10th. But it wasn’t until this week that Colin felt his body could handle the work (he is scheduled to do a lot of things around here that require carpentry skills, in exchange for parking his bus in driveway, and use of the garage as a workshop for him to “trick out” the bus.
Okay, that’s enough backstory. I won’t go into details of the last time this garage was the focus of the city, during the last rental inspection three years ago, when, after much miscommunication from both sides, we did have to go before the board of appeals, and they told us to paint it . . . in the middle of February . . . or else! So we did, gathering ten people together on the one day in February that was above 45 degrees.
Here’s the chronology of the wall, so far. Colin tells me there’s only about five or six hours of his work left, and Marita has volunteered to paint it. First, this is just after he removed some of the rot.
Then, deeper and deeper into the morass, which he was definitely anticipating.
We already had two windows here from Habitat ReStore, which he used to replace the old ones.
So let’s see, this is the 6th. . . supposed to rain either today or tomorrow. But Tuesday the 8th should be fine. Okay, if all goes well, we will make that March 10th deadline. Whew!
Finally, chicken inspecting bluebells on other side of the fence.
Our two work parties this week were very productive. Here are pics from both Tuesday and Friday mornings, followed by a final one today, during Daniel’s spray time; finally, pics of the notes taken of what was planted when since we began, February 1..
Lots of seeds started!
When I walked into the greenhouse on Friday, it was still chilly. Somebody had forgotten to fire up the stove hours earlier. Oh well!
And, when I walked in, a conversation was going as to how we could productively use the ash from the stove (on left). Somebody looked it up and discovered that a thin layer of wood ash can be sprinkled under seedlings when planted to deter soft-bodied critters. Don’t know the url, but here’s one source for something like that idea.
Aya, Annie, Marita.
Aya and new farm manager, Daniel.
Daniel, Annie, Joseph with Aya (hidden)
Daniel sprays. Joseph, hidden, waits. He has decided to play the tiny singing bowl, here in his hands, over the plants . . .
