Time to start... planting spring greens!?!

This article was first published in the Chautauqua

This week the autumn winds have been blowing in the season change, and blowing the leaves all over our deck and garden beds. In the midst of bringing in kilos of tomatoes and digging our root crops, I am sweeping off leaves and cleaning up my raised beds near the house. After pulling out the remaining plants, I am refreshing their soil with worm castings and compost. Then I am adding one more thing: seeds!

That's right – as the leaves fall down, telling tales of cold temperatures and winter, I am remembering the joy of the first spring greens. Two years ago, while thinking about how things work 'in nature' when humans aren't around to pick, preserve and replant seeds, we decided to try planting some lettuce in the fall to see what might happen in the spring. We planted several varieties in a couple locations, and then waited and watched.

What we found was the head lettuces came up along side the first shoots of grass and grew well in the cooler spring temperatures. It seemed that the leaf lettuces didn't do as well and we didn't really get a jump start by planting them this way. Last fall we let the head lettuces go to seed and didn't disturb the soil around them. This spring, we once again had early head lettuce.

This year we've added two raised beds just off our deck – the perfect place for greens, making them easy to harvest as needed. Therefore this fall I am moving my 'perennial patch' of lettuce. In the next few weeks I will be planting our head lettuce varieties alongside some spinach, arugula and a few other greens. I will stagger the planting over the weeks to help increase their success. If we get some moisture in early fall before the ground freezes, some seed may germinate and begin to grow destroying their chance of making it through the winter. Staggering the seeding means increasing the possibility that some seeds will remain dormant and sleep through the winter until spring brings the right conditions.

Growing them closer to the house, in a raised bed means that their soil will likely warm up sooner thus giving them the right growing conditions, earlier.

I enjoy fall – the fresh air and the beautiful colours, wild berries that get better after the first frost. I will even give winter some compliments when the world is clean and white and is giving us a break from being out labouring in the sun. However spring is still a favourite. Spring when she is bursting into bright greens and first flowers (I am a May baby, after all). So these seeds also hold some promise for me. When the winter is feeling too long and I am missing my fresh salads, I can look out over my coffee cup at the raised beds and take comfort in the early greens waiting alongside me.

Seedy September

This article was first published in the Chautauqua.

Since I have been out of school for many years and I have no children, Septembers of recent years have slipped by as a month of transition from summer into fall, but not one too remarkable. With September 2012 now upon us and this being my first full year back on a farm – I am learning a new appreciation for September.

This September feels like a month of harvesting the abundance of our hard work over the last months. By the time you read this, our pasture-raised chicken will be in our freezers (or someone else's), our new laying hens will be giving us a steady supply of eggs (I hope), and we'll be finishing up our beef and geese for butchering in October.

Then there is the garden to bring in. We've been enjoying fresh produce since early June and have already put up bagfuls of our snap beans and peas, but now its squash, corn, root crops, and the rest. Plus, this year I am carrying an extra basket with me as I go out to bring in our food. It is for seeds.

I've played with saving my own seeds at different points but this year I have been making a conscious effort to leave behind some produce or to let plants flower and go to seed so that I can have as much of my own seed for next year. It has been quite freeing to be able to say, “leave the rest of the beans for seed.” Considering I am having dreams about what to do with all my patty pan squash, letting go of the need to pick and preserve more beans was a relief.

Saving our own seed is a pragmatic action. I am out there already, I might as well gather a second 'harvest' from the plants that I put in during the spring and save us money in the spring time. As well, it can impact the quality of our garden next year. Research is showing that every year you grow a plant in your own garden – it uses information from that year in forming next years seeds, adapting to your specific growing conditions. Our garlic supplier encourages us to buy more the first year and to grow our own seed – they have learned that it takes 5-7 years for garlic to adapt to a specific ecosystem.

Saving seed is not something new but - in today's context – it may be revolutionary. For most of our human history, decisions as to what is eaten and how it was produced were made by the community and people in that immediate ecosystem. In the last century or so – we've very quickly changed that and handed over control and decision-making to the few and the powerful. As more companies patent seeds and call them their own, the common gardener will become a common criminal when they save seed and use it for their own purpose. Even if I am never arrested for saving and using my own seed – my seed saving is about freedom: the freedom to grow and eat and provide for my family and the freedom of nature's knowledge. The idea that anyone can 'own' that which has evolved and developed within ecosystems – alongside generations of human beings – seems ludicrous to me.

I appreciate those who dedicate themselves to providing us with seed – they are part of having a food secure and stable system. However I am looking forward to making this September a harvest of double-abundance: of the fruit and vegetables produced as well as the seeds for next year.

Purslane and New Perspectives

This article was first published in The Chautauqua

Last week (written in August) we ventured into the local farmers market for the first time. I wasn't sure if we had anything of interest to sell and I didn't want to bring in anything that others had, I wanted to compliment the items I've seen at the market.

We (our farm help, Mark and I) cut heads of romaine lettuce, red leaf lettuces, a variety of herbs, and bagged up purple beans. I also picked and bagged purslane, as well as printed out an information sheet on its use as food. I knew this would be a conversation starter, although I doubted anyone would buy.

If 'purslane' doesn't ring a bell – you may know it as portulaca. Yes, that 'weed' that your parents made you spend hours removing from the garden, being careful to not leave behind a root or leaf as it (supposedly) can reproduce from those. That's what we brought into the market and laid out among our other items for sale.

It definitely invited conversation and a lot of reactions. A lot of people said they would be going home to try some from their own garden, although I wonder if the thought made it home with them and if the purslane ever made its way to their table.

I am not sure if it is something I would plant and consciously cultivate however given the fact that our garden has an already established stand of it, I am happy to find out about its nutritional qualities. According to Edible Garden Weeds of Canada: “purslane is richer in iron than any other leafy vegetable, except parsley. It also said to be rich in vitamins A, C, B and omega 3s.

I have also read that it is grown as a companion plant in many countries – providing ground cover, holding in moisture and using its deep roots to bring nutrients to the surface through harder soil.

It is often how we look at things – if we see them as a problem or opportunity. Looking at purslane as a food source and a support for other plants in the garden means that I see the patches of it in our garden very differently.

It's likely no one will ever buy the purslane we bring to market but it gives us a way to start conversations with others and to make our booth memorable. I doubt people remember our farm name, but I wouldn't be surprised if we are referred to as “those people trying to get us to eat weeds.” There are worse ways one could be referred to.

Harvesting Abundance

My article in the August 3rd Chautauqua

Harvesting Abundance

The last week or so has come with a bit of anxiety around our garden because I haven't started to harvest much from our garden – my greens and herb are doing great but am still weeding and watching and waiting.

I go to the farmers markets and see others with heads of cauliflower, fresh peas, perfect sized beets and I have to ask them: when did you plant? Did you use transplants or seed? Any row covers or irrigation? I am comparing their system to mine to find out why I am 'behind.'

We did plant later than most people this year and when the weeks were very dry in May, we resisted watering because we didn't want the garden dependent on the water. After getting our straw mulch down, we did give the plants a couple good soaks, along with applying compost and compost tea.

The last weeks the rains and the heat have come and overall the garden has been coming along well. So well, I was contemplating taking some baskets of lettuce and herbs into the market as I have more than we can eat. Then came the hail which shredded my lettuce and dropped my confidence around the garden. I took a walk through our rows and saw the damage and anxiety returned. However I had my baskets with me and decided to harvest what I could as I walked along. Thirty minutes later I walked into the house with a basket full of basil for pesto; a basket with 5-6 other herbs which I will dry for use in cooking or tea; strawberries and raspberries; lettuce and chard; onions and radishes; a couple types of peppers, the first head of broccoli and some fresh new potatoes.

As I looked over this, I felt pretty good. It made me reflect on life in general. When I am busy with tasks and getting things done, it feels like the days slip past and unless I pause and reflect all that has happened: the tasks accomplished, lessons learned, laughs laughed, I miss the abundance that is around me.

So this week, I am sending a wish out to all:

May you enjoy the weeks ahead as we step into the highs of harvest and let each basket of food and jar of preserves remind you of the unseen blessings that surround you each day.

It's a Mess!

My thoughts on our garden set up, first published in The Chautauqua:

Our garden is a mess. From the distance of our kitchen window, it looks fairly normal. Long, brown rows where seedlings are starting to poke through, separated by yellow straw mulch that is holding in the moisture and keeping the weeds down.

Get closer though and you'll see last year's corn stalks and other dried plants still layered on the ground. 'Weeds' are poking up through the straw mulch and whole patches of lamb's quarters are being allowed to grow. Instead of tilling under the whole garden and then planting, we used a rake to move aside our mulch and only tilled exactly where we planned to plant. We did this in order to preserve the moisture in the soil that can be lost by tossing up the soil and letting the wind have access to it. We also are choosing to let the microorganisms in the soil live. The work of Dr. Elaine Ingham and others like her have revealed the complex web of life that live in our soil and that participate in order to have healthy soil and healthy plants. Most of these organisms live in the top inches of soil and tilling disrupts and kills them thus setting back the long term health of the soil. Our garden isn't at the point, yet, where we can eliminate tilling completely but we feel better knowing that we've left the majority of the soil intact and are letting the soil feed itself rather than applying external fertilizers.

This is also why we are a bit more relaxed when it comes to weeding. We are removing the plants that are coming up close to our seedlings so that there is not competition for our vegetables, but in the areas where we haven't planted, we are not planning to actively till or kill the 'weeds.' Recent research is showing that it is at the root tip of plants where a great deal of nutrient transfer and soil transformation takes place. Our teachers have impressed up on us that it is better to have roots in the soil, no matter whose roots they are. Thus our weed control will come in later, not allowing plants to go to seed and spread, but in the mean time we are not breaking our backs over hoes. We are letting our geese help out: they do enjoy the fresh sprouts of dandelions and grasses.

Because we didn't clean out our garden last fall, it also means we are finding some treasures as we let things grow. We have head lettuce that self-seeded and is weeks ahead of the lettuce I planted this spring. We've found garlic and onions sprouting – we expect that our fall help missed them or the stalks were broken and the bulbs left in the ground. I haven't had to put any new dill or cilantro in this year as I have nice patches coming up on their own.

Gardening this way is a big shift for me – I keep wondering what the neighbours must think when they drive by. But by the time I make it to the far end of my garden – having picked a few 'weeds' along with some herbs and leaves for supper and watched our geese travel between rows, snacking, I have a smile on my face and peace in my heart.

Honey - I have worms...

My latest Chautauqua article:

My husband has worms. It's gotten so bad that family members are bringing over food scraps because our table can't feed them all. It's hard to figure out exactly how many there are but we estimate around 11 kilograms of them.

Oh wait – not THOSE worms. I am talking about red wigglers, the kind of earthworm that is excellent at taking your table scraps and animal droppings and turning them into beautiful compost to use as a fertilizer in your garden and on your land.

A year ago he purchased a yogurt container of worms and by wintertime we had three mineral tubs full and needed to find them a warm place to reside. Red wigglers are not hardy over our Canadian winter as they stay shallow in the earth and a small amount will not produce enough heat to keep warm over winter. So into our basement they came and soon we had a pyramid of about 13 mineral tubs stacked up.

Many people have composts in their backyards so why use worms? For us it comes down to the fact that worms breakdown material faster without needing to get your compost up to a high heat. Regular compost can be incredibly fast too – but take a lot more attention. So far we've learned that keeping worms are pretty simple: feed them anything organic although keep the amount of citrus to a low part of that ratio and forget about laminated or glossy paper; keep them moist but not too wet and don't pee on them (urine has been found to speed up composting and add value to the end product however it's not a favorite of the worms). Your nose is the best gaugue of how things are doing: the main smell around the bins is one of potting soil. If it starts to smell a bit 'off' then you have overfed them. The size of your worm operation is dependent on how much you feed them and how much space you give them – many people in urban cities find worm composting the easiest as they can keep them inside without a smell and they break down waste faster, taking up less space.

So why do we want so many? For one – we have a large garden that we plan to expand and our soil is quite sandy. We plan to use the worm castings (the compost end-product also known as 'worm poo') to build our soil. Secondly – hubby is taking a course this May on the soil food web so we can experiment with using worm castings and compost tea (made from the castings) as natural amendments to our pasture.

This time of year the gardening stores are busy selling fertilizers and soil amendments – ours are coming out of our basement and onto the garden. The cost: our table waste, some cow manure and a bit of my husband's time. Although I am not sure if I should even consider his time. Before we married he warned me that he's still a 12 year-old boy at heart and I am sure digging in the dirt and playing with worms keeps that part of him happy.

A Canadian Conversation

My article in The Chautauqua from the 16 March - 

I'm writing this looking out over the freshly white fields, as more snow falls, happy that I don't have to drive anywhere today and even happier to see some moisture hitting the ground.

It wasn't until I lived in Singapore – 1 degree north of the equator – that I realized how much we Canadians talk about the weather. When you live somewhere that has very little fluctuation in temperature, there suddenly seems to be very little to talk about in the elevator. Now I am not only living in Canada, where the weather provides an easy conversation to 'break-the-ice' but I am back on the farm. That means the weather is a factor in almost every decision you make: what work you do today depends on today's weather, tomorrow's forecast and the almanac's prediction for the year ahead.

After Christmas we took our honeymoon in Nicaragua and visited a few farms there. They were talking about the fact that there dry season was (at that time) about a month and a half late. They were pleased because in the same way we stockpile feed (for us and the animals) over the winter, they stockpile to get through the dry season. It made us start to think about the year ahead of us, back home. So there we were – overlooking Lake Nicaragua, eating our breakfast of rice and beans – checking weather back home, reviewing the moisture falls from the very dry fall and winter (so far) and thinking about what we need to do this spring. Despite the rainfalls we received in 2010 and 2011, the dry fall and little snow this winter had us thinking about moisture.

Last summer we covered the garden in mulch: a variety of cardboards, black plastic, wood chips and straw mean that there is not a bare patch of ground, so any moisture that was there before the dry winds came was protected and the spring melt should be held in. (Thank goodness for this snow – there might actually BE a spring melt). We are trying to grow our garden with minimal tilling and we are still figuring out ways to work through the mulch we've already laid – but if that work upfront means less watering and less weeding later on, I am up for it.

We also have the materials for a water catchment system off the quonset. That was one of last year's projects that didn't seem to make the priority list. It's on the priority list for this year, though. If the rains come and we don't need to water the garden, I am sure the ducks and geese will appreciate the bigger pond to swim in.

While the weather is something we can feel at the mercy of in Canada (no ones figured out how to control it yet, although I am sure Monsanto is trying...) the changing seasons and the variation is a constant reminder of the ecosystems that we are a small part in and connects us to the natural cycles that abound. Plus it gives you an easy topic to use to fill in the time while you wait for your coffee.

Seeds of Choice

My second article for The Chautauqua, 2 March 2012:


Seeds of Choice

When I was little – I would look forward to the SEARS Wish Book arriving in the house. I would read every page, then go back and make a long list of every item that I would be happy to see under the Christmas tree. Then do another read through, paring that list down but still leaving plenty of choice for Santa to surprise me from. It was part of the aniticipation of Christmas – something I enjoyed as much as the day itself. Now – it's seed catalogues. I've replaced the Christmas season with spring and instead of a single book to leaf through, I know have multiple catalogues and websites to peruse. This past December, I started to get anxious and even resorted to making my first lists from the 2011 catalogues as many companies had yet to release their 2012 editions.

This past weekend one of my friends asked me about where I buy my seeds and why. I don't have a list of hard and fast rules but my philosophy can probably be summed up as getting seeds from as close to home as possible, from a source that I can locate (if I wanted to). Following these guidelines I find that I am getting seed from that is fresh, that is appropriate for our growing conditions, and that includes varieties beyond the usual, commercial breeds.

I haven't gone to purchasing 100% organic seed because there still seems to be a limited amount of choice within certified seed from the prairies however I do aim to purchase from smaller seed producers and savers, and most of them state up front that they don't use chemicals, invite you to visit and be the inspector and actually tell you their lcoation so you could.

I am more interested in getting seeds for vegetables that are heirloom or heritage breeds. These are not the vegetables you are likely to see on the grocery store shelves because those breeds have been selected for lasting in transport and on shelves but may have lost other characteristics that make them hardier in our climate or have taste/colour attributes that I want to try. My family will tell you that I am a sucker for vegetables that have colours that we aren't used to: not all carrots are orange and there can be great joy in cutting into a beet that has a golden interior hidden by the common red.

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/07/food-ark/food-variety-graphic

The July 2011 National Geographic covered the looming crisis in our food supply and how there is a need to be preserving the diversity of species available to us to grow for food in order to meet challenges posed by increased populations, changes in growing conditions, and new diseases. They included a fantastic diagram that showed the change in availability of varities from 1903 to today. For example: in 1903 there were 408 types of tomatoes available via commercial seed houses and by 1983 there were only 79. So buying seed and growing vegetables that are different and unique is not only about having more fun in the kitchen, but is my small way of contributing to keeping our seed bank a bit richer.

My belief that diversity makes us more resilient is another reason why I prefer to support a few smaller enterpreneurs and seed savers rather than single, larger companies: the more people involved in growing and providing seed, the less dependent we are on a single source and a few key species in our seed bank. Supporting local people also means more money circulating and staying in our local, rural communities. As well, I find they are able to answer my questions about specific breeds in much greater detail and if I have any problems, are more willing to help me out.

I thought my seed shopping was done for this year, other than what I plan on picking up at Red Deer's Seedy Sunday (March 25, Kerry Wood Nature Centre) but now I am wondering if I ordered those purple carrots or not? So I am signing off to go look at my lists and orders and see if I can squeeze one more row of carrots in to the garden plan.

Writing again

I've recently started to write for a local newspaper: The Chautauqua, a local paper that covers the communities around our part of Alberta.  It's mine own little column so I get to write from my own thoughts, experiences and adventures...  the focus on local food: growing, eating and points in between.  Below is the first article I submitted, as a way of introducing myself as I am quite new to the area:

Adventures in Local Fo-o-od

I grew up on a farm north of Coronation, but as the youngest of 8 children – I got away with doing the least amount of farm work as possible and as soon as I could, I set out to explore other pastures. After 10 years of working abroad, living the typical urban life – I was greeted with scepticism and surprise when I told family and friends that I planned to move back to rural Alberta.

The 'plan' is working out better than I could have imagined: in October 2011 I married Vance Barritt and we are now residing on his mom's farm, east of Alix. We are the proud owners of a small herd of cows, a clutch of laying hens, and a brace of ducks; with broiler chickens, a milk cow, and perhaps some geese to join them in the spring. Pigs and goats seem to crop up in conversation but... I will leave those conversations for now - they just might be content for an interesting column in the future.

I am not a gourmet chef nor am I a master gardener. However I love food – my husband says that when I say 'food' – I add an extra 'o' to draw it out for emphasis. F-o-o-o-d. I enjoy watching my garden flourish, preparing nourishing food for family and friends, and (with my husband) am an aspiring food producer – wanting to share our livestock with our family, friends and wider community. I also enjoy writing when I get to reflect, tell stories and share what I have learned – so I am putting those two (foood and writing) together for this column. So in the months ahead I will share stories and insights from my own experience of growing, harvesting, and enjoying the abundance of great food that we can (and do!) produce here in Alberta.

I look forward to getting to know more of you in the community, as I am a relative newcomer around here and I appreciate you giving me this space to share. Feel free to send in comments and thoughts, feedback is always welcome.

A Feast fit to be Shared

On a rainy weekend in mid-June of this year, my fiance (now husband) and I took off for a few days and nights of planning.  Thanks to the rain and a big tent - we were cozy inside, working on our holistic goals for our life together as well as doing some more immediate scheduling for the rest of the year.  

One of the goals we wrote is:

"We are eating and sharing nourishing food with family and friends."  

We'd already put in a large-ish garden and knew we were going to be raising 200 pastured chickens but we, honestly, didn't have in mind just how we would get to share this food with our loved ones.

At the same time - we were planning our wedding for the Thanksgiving weekend (October 8th) and had met with a caterer who was willing to let us source the foods from our own garden and pastures or from our farmer friends.  Our intent was to have a lovely harvest-style meal: perfect for a Thanksgiving/fall wedding.

These two streams of intent merged over the summer and by the time the wedding day came, we were serving our own beef, chicken, potatoes, carrots, beets, rutabagas and pickles!  Some of the desserts were made with our own fruits and the wedding pie that we cut (in lieu of a wedding cake) came from strawberries and rhubarb that we grew as well.  I also made up small jars of jams, jellies and other preserves for people to take home with them.

The head table had to be set on the stage of the hall, which was a bit nerve-racking for us: everyone could see us so clearly!  It felt like we were setting up ourselves to be king and queen of the night, which wasn't really what we wanted.  But it was a great spot because we could watch the crowd line up at the buffet and could see people coming back for seconds and thirds!  I didn't expect the food to be a big part of the wedding - even though I wanted it to be food I was proud of and felt good about serving.  Honestly - I don't remember the food from other weddings I went to!  So it felt great to see people enjoying and commenting and to still be getting notes from friends (3weeks later) about how they enjoyed the meal.  

There was a great sense of satisfaction in sharing our produce with our loved ones and felt we were living out this goal that we'd set only a few months ago.  It gives me confidence in the direction we are going and means that every time I dig out more carrots or defrost one of our chickens, I am reminded of this special day.  

We are humble in our ambitions to be farmers and food producers - but knowing that we started out our marriage and partnership by sharing our own food with our loved ones, I feel like those ambitions just might be possible and might be already realised, in some small way.

The 'EPL' strategy to personal planning

First a disclaimer or note to readers:  I did read Eat, Pray, Love and am proud to say I did discover it before it became one of 'those books' that everyone has read and is everywhere and is now a movie... which I doubt I will see anytime soon.  Both because of my current location and because I am hesitant to.  This post refers to the book but please see beyond that if you are one of the people sick and tired of hearing about 'the book.'


It was almost two years ago when it felt like my entire life was under question.  I knew what I didn't want to be doing and who I didn't want to be doing it with but I was still figuring out what that meant in terms of where, what and with who I DID want to be.  My solution was to borrow a simple exercise from Elizabeth Gilbert in the now infamous book Eat, Pray, Love.  Early on in the book she talks about how she just kept asking herself what she really, really, really, really, really wanted to do.  (I may have got the number of 'really's' off here - I don't have the book on hand to provide references)  She kept asking this and kept listening to the responses.  She did dismiss responses nor did she jump on any immediately.  But she listened for the ones that 'stuck' and for the patterns that emerged in them.  I tried that and ended up spending my last months in Asia exploring places and experiences with people that truly made me and allowed me to laugh.  I ended up hopping over to the UK to take up the Masters that I had always wanted to do.  And I landed in Canada to begin a journey of coming home, really HOME.  Thinking that worked out pretty well...  and coming to another point where I see a blank sheet, foggy road, open field in front of me... I thought I would try it again.


So I am asking myself... what do I really, really, really, really, really want to be doing, today - and I am listening to the daily responses - the changes, the patterns and looking forward to how things emerge around that.


Yesterday - I wanted to be eating, cooking, sharing food that I've helped grow - enjoying the abundance of nature and live, friendship and family - over a kitchen table.


Today - I want to work with farmers and rural towns to build resilience and alternatives; I want to raise and cook food that gets talked about in magazines and books; I want to ride horse


What will tomorrow be, I am looking forward to find out...

Beyond the next 12 months

During the organic gardening course at CAT I was struck by the time-scales that the projects were being run on.  The leaders shared with us their own experiments with composting, gardening and reclaiming materials and the idea of 6-12 months being 'short' and 'being impatient' amused me.  The last years of my life have been such that being able to think or plan beyond 12 months has been more of a joke than possibility, let alone do something that you expect to wait for 2, 5, 10 or more years for results from.


And I know that is what I have been craving - the stability and place to be based in order to flow with and change along with it.  To plant a seed knowing that it may be 1 year or longer before I see a flower or taste its fruit.  And in the last 3 months I have seen myself getting more comfortable with it.  Putting in horseradish that will take a year to establish before we can use it; seeing trees planted and thinking I may be around to see them grow; burying cherries in order to ferment and sprout the seeds - waiting until next spring to see which seeds are ready to be planted and then being ready to wait for their seedlings to emerge.   I have slowed down and settled in - the first week home I could barely wait until a seed took a few weeks to sprout, and now I am thinking of trees that will only bear fruit in 3-4 years time.  


Alberta's big horizons have always impressed me - maybe they are making an impression in me.

Procrastination and other projects :)

To some people - they may see my putterings in the garden and yard as procrastination.  I consider these projects as key to my 'coming home' and 'becoming native to this place' - you'd be surprised how much of my thesis is formed while I do the following:

- turn the compost that I started just over a month ago: it really is decomposing!
- help my single zucchini plant pollinate itself (I hope) by taking a qtip to the male flower and then the female
- picked pineapple weed from our front lawn and hung up to dry to make into a tea
- helped Dad with shingling the shed in the back yard

All this and 800 words, editing and some research.

Pretty good day!  Off to yoga now :)

(jalepenos on the GrOw)

An update and an excerpt

It's been almost a month since I have been home and a couple weeks since I posted here.  I guess the last days have fallen into a pretty decent routine of breakfast - reading/writing - some gardening or something outside - lunch - more reading/writing/gardening - dinner, cooking it sometimes - cards or knitting or some less 'brainy' stuff but maybe still related to my thesis.  Also - mix into that getting logistics to coming home sorted (almost all done) and the break in there when I go out to Vance's for a walk on the farm or he comes into town to catch up.

It's great in terms of getting to enjoy the summer and having time to think and work - although I am getting restless in terms of missing a bit more of an active/social life.  It is good to be able to balance the heady stuff with things like weeding the garden, picking raspberry leaves to dry, foraging along the pond for wild mint and yarrow...  we've had two ripe strawberries and more asparagus from the garden and just holding breathes to see what survives the rain and wind from the last 24 hours.  We've had over 10cm of rain since last night at 6pm - (18 hours) and it is still coming down.

I am off tomorrow to spend 4 days working on Sunrise Farms (mentioned in the earlier post) - I kind of wish the sunshine and heat was still around but guess I won't be too hot in my coveralls!

Will try to post more from there but in the mean time - thought to share this small paragraph from the introduction of my thesis.  I was writing about the approach I am taking and why.  This was the final, more personal point:

"A journey to become native to this place.  This place in time and space that humanity is within; this place in the ecosystems that we humans occupy; this place in Alberta, Canada - were I grew up but never really felt a part of until now.  Wes Jackson’s book “Becoming Native to This Place” gave me this underlying statement and understanding of what my journey has been about.  I have sought education and experiences to help me witness and understand the wider global context that my life sits within; I have held deep the question “how can we humans flourish, unapologetic-ally, on this earth?”; and I have felt pulled back to Canada, to Alberta and to the rural life I was raised in.  These questions and explorations are my journey to becoming native to this place and I believe that as I live my inquiry I am a part of all humanity re-placing ourselves."

We did make a trip out to the farm that I grew up on.  It was unplanned (at least from my part) and it was a bit overwhelming in terms of the memories that came back.  Just walking through the yard, a smell or the sight of a certain tree or spot near the barn... and a sweet, simple memory would be waiting for me.  I hope to make another trip out there before the place is sold.

Roots and Shoots

It's now been just over a week that I have been home and what a week it has been.  Am going to capture here some highlights:

Open Day at Sunrise Farm:  Last Thursday we went out to Sunrise Farm to join about 25 others in walking about the land and learning of the journey that Don and Marie Ruzicka have been on these last 15 years.  The conversations that happened through the day moved from co-planting trees to create shelter-belts and wildlife areas to how our economic system does or doesn't 'count' and on to our role (as farmers and as humans) in the broader ecosystem(s) we are apart of.  It was like being back at Schumacher.  What a wonderful gift - to find a philosophical home as I reconnect to my physical home.  

Old friends: was fortunate to be 'kidnapped' on Saturday by one of my dearest friends from high school.  Deanna picked me up and took me up to Edmonton to see one of her daughters dance in an Irish performance on Saturday night.  It was great to reconnect with Dee and to have some time to cuddle her kids - I do enjoy being Auntie Brenda.  I came back to Stettler with a bag full of wild mushrooms and some horseradish... probably not the usual thing a woman goes to the city for.

Gardening, composting and cooking:  am enjoying putting down roots - literally.  I have picked up some potted herbs for cooking, planting some seeds I picked in the Dartington Gardens before I left, and set down the horseradish roots from Edmonton.  And am now practising patience in hoping for the seeds and roots to produce.  

In the patience field:  I built a compost in the backyard and again - now the waiting game of decomposition begins.  I was pleased to find some very fat worms under it and take that as a sign that they are busy at work in the bottom layers of food scraps and cardboard.

And cooking:  those mushrooms have served us once alongside our garden asparagus and my basil plants to make a yummy pasta... and tomorrow the rest of them will feature at our BBQ.

Connecting ideas and getting back into the labyrinth of my thesis:  I just finished reading 'Web of Life' by Capra and have a good sense of my first chapters as well as the inquiry I am on...  and so will be taking more steps in that direction over the next days.

Speaking of labyrinth - was amazed to stumble across one in the park right by my parents place... but it needs some care by the park maintenance, you get half way in and then lose the path completely.  NOT the metaphor I need right now :)

And another good find:  a local, organic winery that is about 2 hours from here selling their wines at the farmer's market... tasting notes to follow soon ;)

Pictures can be viewed here.

Tonight was the first night I cooked dinner since I have been home - and what was really nice was cooking dinner with ingredients from my parents garden and backyard. 

I made a quiche with asparagus and winter onions from my parents garden and added into the salad chickweed, which is normally a weed that is pulled out but is now part of our salad garden and my first foraging attempt.

It turned out better than I expected as it was my first time making a quiche and with a rice-flour crust at that (my dad is gluten intolerant).  It was definitely a crowd-pleaser (Vance joined us) and is a do-over.