Harvest of good fortune

Our garden is small, but both of us do our best to preserve some of the bounty. 

During the summer I froze berries and apples. Many of these were gifts from friends whose big harvests can be overwhelming. I also spent quite a few days making jams and jellies, while the Dear Man looked after the quince -- always the most prolifice of the fruits in the yard -- making juice, and also drying and freezing slices for later in winter. 

Not all of our fruit trees are as bounteous as the quince; this year, we got exactly five peaches and only a single plum. Lots of berries though, but I wasn't counting. 

The leaves in the photo are basil, a herb I use pretty often. There's lots of pesto base in the freezer; the leaves on the little heat source are drying (weirdly, they take longer than even apple slices to dry) and I'll use them to season sauces. 

But the point of all this is today's celebration of bounty -- Thanksgiving Day -- a day of gratitude. 

Fresh from the farm and garden

A long time ago, in 2009, I kept a year-long blog where I posted a photo and a bit of running commentary on whatever it was we were having for supper that night. I called it 'what's fer supper' and it's still online, hanging out wherever these things reside in the ether we've come to call the cloud. 

The photo above isn't supper, but rather a late breakfast, maybe one you'd have to call brunch, though on a Sunday that doesn't seem too out of line. 

The omelet, made from eggs I get from Karen, my 'egg lady' are beautifully farm-fresh. If you look closely, you can see a bit of grass from her hens' nesting materials on that lovely brown egg. 

The potatoes, from the few left over from last night's supper, were a gift from my wonderful neighbour, Anna, whose garden is an urban paradise. 

Filling for the omelet is from our little kitchen garden, just outside the back door. It was time to cut back the arugula, as it was bolting into a zillion little white flowers. A few seconds in the microwave was all it took to wilt the leaves a bit. Along with them, I folded a bunch of the flowers into the eggs as well. Then, since almost everything is better with cheese, a couple shreds of havarti got melted in there as well. 

Not a bad way to kick off a day that's turning out to be one of watching heaps of soccer on tv!

The weeds shall inherit the Earth

It's been about the driest summer I can recall. There was maybe one brief rain shower in July, and not much more this month--at least not yet. So most of the lawns in our neighbourhood are golden brown. 

Only, not all of them. 

It amazes me, but there are actually people who live nearby who have artificial turf instead of lawn. I suppose it's easy to have a lawn that never needs cutting, but...

I'll avoid going into my objections over such artifice even though they make up a longish list of gripes. The day is too beautiful to be indoors typing, so I am going to go back outside. 

But I must say that there's something quite agreeable about seeing such a tangle of invasive morning glory (bindweed) as well as some other sprawling weed exerting themselves across their would-be finery. 

A place of contradictions

Sometimes Surrey, the city where I live, can make me want to pull out my hair in frustration -- from day to day, it can be so very up-and-down.

On Friday I attended a workshop in Newton, one of our city's many 'cities within the city' -- I guess a previous township of its own, it's now considered one of the city's town centres. It's an area that sometimes gets a bad rap, as it's had its share of crime occur.

But on Friday, there was no mention of crime, as a group of us were led on a tour of a place that could almost be called a transformational miracle -- an amazing community garden, providing beauty, food, and opportunities to work outdoors for anyone who chooses to participate.

And yes, please click on this PLOT project link, as it's quite an adventure, complete with video of how this miracle came about.

The project embodies an idea that really puts the 'unity' into the concept of 'community'.

But then on the weekend, Newton made the news again -- this time with a dreadful house fire, one that investigators have started calling suspicious. Worst of all, there were injuries, and to children.

Yet, I'd prefer to think back on the workshop -- a project that saw us gathering images to be used in an amazing-sounding exhibit in September by Toronto artist Faisal Anwar. Since part of our task in the workshop was to take photos of the wonderful sights we saw in the gardens, that's what I'll close with -- an image of beauty.

Yes, please, I say, more beauty for all.

What's up here?

...besides the patch of grass that's supposed to pass as a lawn.

Our neighbourhood is displaying a new phenomenon. It started a few years ago, with one or two yards here and there that looked like the one in the photo. Somehow the phenomenon has spread.

Now, nearly every block has one of these yards -- and not just on the houses with 'for sale' signs that have a 'sold' sticker. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but it almost makes me wish this was something the city would take a stand on.

I'm not confusing this uncut lawn with the 'wild' yard look -- one that's planted with vegies, or floral arrangements or even those that are the results of scattering wildflower seeds.

Those exude a folksy kind of charm, and often serve the purpose of feeding the people who live there.

The ones I'm talking about just look neglected. They make the house -- and in turn, the neighbourhood -- seem like nobody gives a damn.

The uncut lawn of straggly grass and weeds is not a look I am hoping will proliferate. Especially not with all the dandelions that are sure to come along with the practice. And really, if you can't manage to cut it yourself, hire someone -- it's good for the economy when humans have jobs.

Eat well, eat local

Today is the first day of an "Eat Local" challenge. It runs through early November, perfectly in tune with the final harvest of autumn. It's all about eating well, and cooking with locally-produced food.

All the foods in the photo are ones that were locally grown. This particular batch of eggs, a product I usually buy at my local Farmer's Market, were a gift from a friend who raises chickens (and other critters) at her farm. I love the range of their colours, a mix from the different varieties of chickens she keeps.

The rainbow of tomatoes and sprigs of basil (even in a photo, they want to be near each other, just the way they do in a salad or sauce) are the most locally grown of all, as they're among the last survivors in the back yard garden.

Besides having an excellent market every week, I'm lucky enough to be able to choose among several excellent nearby produce shops, where local food is always identified, making it easy to decide what to buy.

More and more people are choosing to pay closer attention to the food they eat -- all part of staying healthier, eating food that tastes better, and also about using the land better. A number of my friends now proclaim themselves to be urban farmers. A great way to start making this goal a reality for next year is to get a copy of Digging the City. No snobbery here; it proclaims itself as a "manifesto for omnivores" -- a group I'm still proudly a member of.

While I doubt that I can make it through to November without wanting an avocado or banana or orange or lemon or... (Oh dear, I am still too reliant on too many foods from 'away'), I have joined the challenge, as I like its awareness factor.

If you'd like to try the challenge too, follow this link and click on the 'join' button. And even if you don't join, here's to good eating!

Every day needs to be Earth Day

It's wild how quickly the days keep flipping past -- with me only now finally getting around to saying a bit about how I spent Earth Day. Where the theme of this year's observance was Environmental and Climate Literacy, it was appropriate for this to also be the day when scientists marched, with the goal of science being respected again as the basis for decision-making.

As for my day, I was lucky enough to be invited to a conference on Permaculture. It seemed like an appropriate way to spend the day, even though much of the time was spent indoors. Topics addressed ranged from disaster-preparedness (and forming community in our neighbourhoods) to understanding the nature of currency. For the currency session, all 50 of us walked down to nearby Crescent Beach, where our history lesson included rocks and a stick with notches carved into it.

I first heard about the permaculture movement when I lived in Australia, back in 2002. I suppose it's taken a while for it to take hold here. But, the same way I like to think about postings on this blog, better late than not at all.

It was encouraging to see a range of ages represented at this event -- for a nice change, there were more young people than older ones -- certainly a positive sign for our future.

And I was especially happy to come home and be reminded of the ways we practise so many of the tenets of permaculture in our little yard -- our rain barrels, our compost bin and of course, our 'kitchen garden' which will soon again be providing our summer salads. Yep, those tender green shoots in the image above are some of the seedlings we've started for our outdoor salad bar. Yummm!