In the garden:
Native wildflowers that I stuffed into every available small pot are glorious and lush. I may not be able to feed my family more than once a week on what we grow, but our little corner of the world is suddenly the hotspot for local pollinators, bees and flies alike. Not quite an enchanted fairyland, my container garden is more along the lines of a wild greasy spoon. I think the bumbles put up an invisible neon arrow sign that says, “Eat at Joes”, pointing to my clover patch.
Nettle continues to volunteer in every seedling pot, and this lovely patch of rogue Miner’s Lettuce also is flourishing along with its more domestic cousins. One of my more recent dreams is to farm not only the usual crops, but to grow all those things that we usually forage for. Can you see it? A couple acres of land, with only wild edible species…nettles, miner’s lettuce, berries, cattails, edible flowers, mushrooms, native trees…a super version of the permaculture idea of the “edible forest”. Anyone can sell tomatoes at a farmer’s market….but what about cattail flour?
Although I can’t even seem to grow nasturtiums very well, and these effers flourish in the worst conditions…so what does that say about my gardening prowess? Seriously though, a few of my plants look anemic like this…pale leaves, pale flowers…mostly my rosemary (why is it yellow?), marjoram, etc. Any growing folks out there have any tips? They are growing in compost, I feed them with worm juice, sometimes seaweed or fish emulsion…so far I have chalked it up to SF cold + not enough sun + plants don’t like containers.
Spinach from seeds I saved from last year. Now that I am into seed saving and exchanging, I look quite differently at seed catalogues. It seems almost laughable.
I thought this little guy might help a tomater get a leg up, but we’ve had a lot of cold, rainy days and so far it’s slow going. The tomato may also be too afraid to grow, considering whatever is hiding behind it at the end of that pipe. Come summer, the garden will be full of miniature Shelobs. (I love them, by the way. But they do have this way of lurking in invisible webs that you don’t realize until you’ve walked into one and she’s sitting on your nose.).
The potatoes that Fern and Leo planted are up.
In the Quest for Home:
Beady eyes plus fuzz. The two biggest prerequisites for Cute.
The question of moving and Where, When and How are looming larger and larger each day. I have been feeling progressively more depressed every time I see yet another friend getting bees, or the baby chicks that have just hatched. I have really worked with our situation in the most stellar of ways, if I do say so myself, but enough is enough. The time is ripe, and not being able to act on it feels insufferable. We found an amazing homesteading situation in Emeryville, and the landlords seemed very excited about us…only to call one hour before we were to go look at it to tell us it had been rented. I have cast out lines to other possible situations, to never hear back. I am trusting still, mostly. I mean, I don’t want to live in Emeryville, I’m thankful to not even have to make that decision. What is hard is the lack of agency I feel…I can’t tell if things are tough because we’re getting close, or if things are tough because it’s hopeless.
My thoughts and ideas around what home needs to be, in the best interest of us all, is shifting and changing right now…so I suppose even though I am impatient, it is not yet time. I think I may just be antsy because while the rest of you are putting on swimsuits and making summer plans, the SF June Gloom has arrived and we’re back in winter. I can’t believe I’m doing this AGAIN.
In the Realm of Toddlerhood and Night Weaning:
Um…why no, officer, I didn’t steal that sign. Why do you ask? *shifty eyes*.
I am not ready to report on the flower essence yet, but I am beginning to see the subtle shifts. We are no closer to night weaning than we were before, but things have definitely changed. Fern is no longer willing to accept comfort from Jeff at night, so while he snoozes on, I am doing a lot of side-nursing. Sweetly, I can now tell her that “Boobles are tired. Time for boobles and Fern to go back to sleep. Roll over now and be cozy.” and 90% of the time, she rolls over on her own and goes back to sleep! Huzzah! She often doesn’t roll very far, so I frequently can be found clinging to the edge of the bed, while Fern clings to my back like a barnacle. The bond we are sharing at night is reverberating into the day, and her tantruming, in general, has subsided. Except for last night. Let’s not talk about last night.
Now, if you were a cat, what would you think about that hand?
We have really gotten into our local library, and have been reading “Come Here Cat” (the original 1973 version). Fern really gets it, and has begun to express very gentle, but deliberate interest in relating with our resident polydactyl feline, Franny. Alas, the lovin usually goes something like this.
I may not do Foraging Friday tomorrow. I have a busy day scheduled, plus we are going car camping on Saturday…I may save the foraging for then, and regale you with fabulous tales next week.
Have a good weekend!