Grey Water "Duh" Moment

When I had my bathroom redone earlier this year to correct some structural and health issues, I lamented that I didn't have a greywater system for my bathtub and sink drains installed. Carrying water in buckets from the bathroom seemed like a fast track to ruining the wood floors and/or causing slips, falls and a potential for mold issues in the house. It only took me seven months (!) to realize that I can use my bathwater to flush the toilet. I now have signage over the commode to remind me of this and a 2 gallon bucket in place ready and waiting. Now I have to wonder what other obvious conservation measures I've overlooked. I give myself props, however, for not using a clothes dryer - I have eight clotheslines in the basement where there is steady all-season cross ventilation. Surprisingly, laundry dries reasonably fast even through the coldest months.

Pleasant Pheasant

The idea of wild and free range sourced meats has been tantalizing me through much of the year and while I do have access to grass-fed meats and raw dairy through our local farm co-op, until now I have never explored game meats.

Today, with Thanksgiving looming in my mind, I had occasion to stop by Czimer's in Homer Glen, where I picked up two pheasants, some venison sausage, a couple of venison steaks and a game meat cookbook (see the book list in the sidebar). The pheasants, I will say, were expensive and I know that these were farmed pheasants, most likely raised on Purina Game Bird Chow (the same stuff we used to feed our Coturnix Quail earlier this year). I can't say that this is much of an improvement on any of the meats one would find at the grocery store. From what the fellow at the counter said, the source of the venison was also a farm where the quality of the feed and the quality of life of the animals is an open question. Am I sorry that I purchased the meat? No. I'm grateful to have a resource nearby that sells meat from goats, camels, deer, pheasant, duck, goose, quail, cornish hen, elk, bison, rattlesnake, etc. What a great opportunity to try new meats! The customer service was fantastic, it's been a family business since 1914 and they had a great variety of health foods and interesting objects for sale, as well. I feel comfortable supporting their business.

That said, however, I feel a certain push to find a place to ethically raise game birds, poultry and small animals without fear of legal repercussions (raising animals for slaughter is a no-no within city limits - as is slaughtering them). I'd like to know that they've had good lives and I'd like to take personal responsibility for the reality that meat comes from the slaughter and butchering of animals. While our quail had the most beautifully gentle (if utterly witless) countenances and it pained me to think of butchering them, the reality is that if I had access to a mentor in the whole business, those quail would have been dressed and turned into a nice stew (I rehomed them when they stopped laying eggs).

Tobacco Row

Dunhill, the British tobacco purveyor, once wrote something to the effect that tobacco is something to be enjoyed in a civilized fashion rather than hurriedly puffed as a symptom of modern anxiety. After all, smoking has merited its very own article of clothing, the smoking jacket, dedicated entirely to the slow enjoyment of tobacco. Like wine and spirits, tobacco in its myriad cures and flavors is something to be lingered over.

Let it be known that while I do not condone addiction in any form, I do enjoy the odd smoke at the patio table in the garden in weather both seasonable and unseasonable. For this reason, along with the fact that commercially produced tobacco products (particularly cigarettes) are notoriously infused with carcinogenic and addiction-promoting additives and are indecently taxed to boot, I have recently begun to ponder the practicality of growing a few tobacco plants here at home.

I have been delighted to find a source for heirloom tobacco seeds in nearby Tennessee. A family with a heritage in tobacco farming found a new niche for itself in the rapidly expanding heirloom and open pollinated market - and with tobacco seed and starter plants, in particular, of which they have over 50 varieties. I am led to believe by various online sources that curing tobacco is a tedious process for which one must build a special box or have a Native American dwelling of some sort to maintain the perfect temperature and humidity. My reasoning, however, is that anything that has been practiced by human beings for more than a few hundred years must be reasonably simple and not too difficult to replicate. I'm going to dig more deeply into the issue of drying and curing tobacco and will plan to purchase seeds for next year's garden.

Affirming the Foundation

As the year draws nearer to its conclusion and the task list for next season seems to get longer and longer, I thought I would bring my focus back to the foundation of all of my undertakings here at the homestead. Here are the guiding principles in what I'm aiming for:

1. Beauty
The gardens are meant to exist as a place of visual and spiritual rest as well as a symbol of abundance.

2. Sustenance
The gardens are meant to provide food and medicine through the seasons in a rhythmic, orderly, and natural fashion.

3. Sharing
The gardens are meant to serve as a point of observation and a source of inspiration for others. Additionally, the physical bounty from the gardens is meant to be shared in the form of food, medicine and cut flowers.

4. Sustainability
The gardens are meant to sustain themselves to a great extent through the use of permacultural principles such as plant guilds, rainwater harvest and soil contouring. Minimal weeding and watering will be necessary.

When I drive through local neighborhoods, I often envision how different life would be for us if instead of filling our front yards with lawns, hedges and ornamental annuals, we chose to use them for food, medicine, beauty and for building stronger family and community relationships, a natural result of spending time in the garden together.

I know that my little efforts in the garden seem strange or awkward to my neighbors during these initial stages. By the end of the third season in the garden, however, I hope that the principles I've mentioned will be expressed in such a way as to be apparent to even the observer who flies past in his or her car.

Back Yard Chickens Make the Local News

Run Until the Freeze

Sunlight is filtering through the apple trees and the lace curtains as I sit here in my "think tank" - an improvised office on an enamel topped table in the covered porch turned pantry on the back of the house. I like this room as it's small and wedged between the kitchen and the door to the back garden - two places where I enjoy spending time. Autumn has arrived with aplomb this year and the chill reminds me that I don't have long before the first freeze arrives.

Our rabbit Rose's litter of kits are approaching full grown and need to find new homes, the chickens need winter housing, the paths in the front yard need finishing and meanwhile I'll be resuming full time classes soon, which will mean long commutes to and from Chicago. Thankfully, I live near the train station, so that time riding to and fro can be spent reading and napping instead of sitting helplessly on the interstate.

This first year at the homestead has been transformational not only for the yard but for me personally. I'd like to think that pulling junk plants from the yard, reshaping soil contours and installing walkways are also metaphors for what's been happening in my own life. Certainly this time has been good for self examination. I've been pursuing old interests made new again and considering the qualities of my relationships with others. These activities, while not always completely pleasant, have been very rewarding.

The chill from outside is creeping through the uninsulated walls of my think tank, reminding me how precious time is not just through the brief autumn season but on this day in particular. Off I go.

Seattle Morning

It's perfectly overcast and about 55 degrees outside - a Seattle morning in the Midwestern prairie lands. I'm enjoying the hum of insects and thinking about a large cup of hot coffee and a very unSeattleish breakfast of home cut donuts from the amazing 24-hour donut shop a few blocks away (who knew "wholesome" and "donuts" could be legitimately conjoined?). Aromatic rotting apples cover the ground under the apple trees in the side yard, the chickens are subdued in the chilly morning air and one block over, the garbage truck is making its way down the street. The weather is an invitation to introspection as the hush of the clouds holds every sound close.

Bad Grass

Sure, you've seen him down on the corner - soaking up fertilizer, chewing on herbicides, drinking water like there's no tomorrow. Yeah, that's right - the lawn. Good thing some people in high places are talking about Lawn Reform.

A Good Day

Huzzah. Tomorrow I'll fill in the patio area, pick up some native black currant bushes (Ribes americanum) from the native plant nursery and see how it goes from there.

When Vorpal Blades Go Snicker Snack

Behold the Jabberwock - all 8,000 pounds of it.

Native Seed Sources

Here are two that I'm aware of - if you know of any others, I'd be grateful to hear of them.

Horizon Herbs
Native Medicinal Plants of the World

One Garden
Certified Organic and Biodynamic North American Indigenous Seeds

Front Yard Views

This is a photo from the original real estate listing. The trees and shrubs are sticks in this photo so I suspect this was taken after the first killing frost (fall of 2007?). The house was purchased last August with the same landscaping still in place.

This is the northeast corner of the front yard as of today. It will look much nicer when the pea gravel is installed in the footpaths, the new berms are planted up and the trees and shrubs have matured.

This morning, this space was mounded with fill dirt and bark mulch, wherein were planted a hibiscus, several anemic ornamental shrubs, some hostas and - get this - a tree less than 2' from the house. With all of that fill dirt cleared away, the house foundation can breathe again. A patio table, a trellis with a dry shade-loving vine and connecting footpaths will be installed in this area shortly. The berm in front is hard to see in this photo but it's about 2' tall, 3.5' wide and 10' long.

This is the path curving around the quince berm where the first of the culinary and medicinal herbs were planted this year. The droopy plant in the corner is a large violet I just moved. The potted plants are Lady's Mantle - Alchemilla vulgaris - that my mother brought to me.



This is the same berm from the other side. I've essentially doubled the size of the berm and installed a keyhole path for access in the center. Notice the crazed Lemon Balm overtaking the berm. Want some lemon balm, anyone?

Here's a broad view from the driveway side.

This path is only half dug, extending from the garage to the loop around the quince berm. It intersects with the patio loop and the main path from the driveway to the front walk.

I think I began digging on Friday and I've taken two days off; things are going much faster than I had imagined they would. Once the gravel is delivered (which will make a grand total of 12,000 pounds of gravel used for this year's projects) things will slow down a little. I'm going to spare my wrists this time; I overloaded the buckets when I filled the paths in the back yard and thus learned my lesson the hard way. I'm having particular fun with this project as there is a lot of instant visual feedback for my efforts - no waiting for things to grow in during this phase. The property is now approximately 75% lawn free.

Digging in the Dirt

Two mornings ago, the cat woke me up at 3:30 by pouncing on my foot. Unable to return to sleep, I wandered outside into the front garden. I gazed into it for some time and (as I tend to do) decided that it was time to seize the bull by the horns. At the more reasonable hour of 5:30, I began digging a one foot deep, two foot wide trench around the main berm, curling around to the main walkway. A second berm began to form. This morning, I incorporated it into the first, creating a keyhole walkway for access between the two masses of earth. I expanded the beds on the path's exterior sides, making room for more native prairie plants. I heaped the new berm extension higher, some 2 1/2 feet above the surface of the yard. Last evening, I began digging the access pathway running between the house and the currant/pawpaw berm extending along the driveway.

Once these paths are filled with gravel, I'll dig in the main walkway between the driveway and front steps. Basing my calculations on my last project in the back yard, it appears that I'll need four tons - yes, eight thousand pounds - of pea gravel to fill in these fairly modest pathways. The water they capture will feed the berms and the dense foliage on the berms will also help to hold water in the soil, creating a slightly cooler, more humid microclimate in the northeast corner f the front yard.

The neighbors, of course, have absolutely no context for what I'm doing and many of them are probably displeased with the state of chaos. I haven't put much energy into the front yard this year beyond getting the trees and shrubs and initial berms in. I didn't even bother pulling out the last of the "Big Box" plantings the seller left behind as I knew that I'd have bigger fish to fry - why style a bad haircut when you'll only shave it all off later?

(Photos Coming Soon)

Garden Day

I've been so preoccupied with other projects lately (setting up programs and the new classroom to host them in, mainly) that the garden has gone untended for a little while. Today, I gathered in the pumpkins and pulled up the vines, threw two enormous armloads of green stuff on the compost pile, emptied the 140 gallon stock tank we had been using as a duck pond and generally went to town in the yard.

While I was enjoying the outdoors, my two favorite bandits, Oscar and Buck (pug and domestic shorthair, respectively) tore into a bag of garbage and then broke into the massage clinic. When I walked into the house, they both came running out of the clinic with giant smirks on their faces. I wasn't pleased about the garbage but I have to confess that I enjoy their little collusions from time to time - it's fun to see dog and cat enjoying mischief together.

After looking at the yard for a long time today as I often do, I've finally figured out how to use the narrow shaded space on the south side of the house. Once we've had the heavy equipment in to excavate and re-cover the 8' wide cistern, I'm planning to put in an outdoor sink (linked to an outdoor faucet), an outdoor bathtub and a picnic table. The outdoor bathtub will double as a giant ice bucket for gatherings and the greywater from both the sink and the tub can drain directly into the potager, which will be slightly downhill from them on the other side of a future privacy fence and gate. The mushroom bed, birdfeeders and large dog house (which will in the future house Muscovy ducks - sigh) will all remain under the apple trees.

Now that I have THAT figured out and the potager plan is making me itch to get going - I'm probably going to have to wait. And wait. And wait. Because the cistern restoration is going to cost mucho dinero and is hinging on the sale of another property - which, in this market, means that it may be a while. I'm thinking I may as well plan to put the beds in this fall and plant them next season, as it may be a year before the other property sells.

I have the feeling that I'm repeating myself - although to be honest, I think about the same household projects so often in my head, I have no idea if I've committed them to the blog or not.

Time to mine Craigslist for gold (a.k.a. outdoor sinks). :)

Poor Jim

When we took Dab Dab to the feed store, I knew already that Jim would face a greater likelihood of predation. Every day and night since being alone, Jim desperately wanted to come stay in the garage where he felt safe and was no longer allowed (as the garage is now a classroom and ducks are very messy). At night, it took ten or more minutes to chase him around the yard and finally catch him in order to put him in the large dog carrier we'd placed outside for him. Last night, sick of playing "catch the duck" at sundown, I gave up early and went inside without putting him in his carrier. Around eleven, I heard animal sounds under my window which is on the other side of the house from the garden where the birds are. I was vaguely bothered by these sounds but too tired to think of why that might be. I found out today when I saw poor Jim's remains under the apple trees. He and Dab Dab should never have been parted to begin with and now his fate and Jim's weigh heavy on my conscience. These wonderful, lovable, stupid, noisy inseparable ducks were our friends and now they are gone, one in a horrible manner.

My eyes are full of tears for Jim and for my daughter, who is devastated.