Garden Oysters

Do you remember the buzz these two Berkeley kids created by selling a box of coffee grounds that will grow tasty mushrooms? When our box gave up its last oysters, I took the mycelium and inoculated our garden with it. This year, I'm being rewarded with some new oyster mushrooms!

Adding mushrooms to a raised bed garden is simple. do a little research and learn what sort of stuff your desired mushroom grows upon (oysters: oak, maple) and stuff some of the host material into the moist corners of your garden. Prep it well (make it good and wet, in most cases). Buy plugs, or look for living mycelia. Inoculate the host matter... and then wait. In a year or less you might have a new, renewable source of mushrooms!

BTW, did you notice how low effort this is?

Short Attention Span Day

I started a group on Facebook, "Short Attention Span" day.

Xena and I planned to paint the ceiling in our bedroom. It's an oppressive smoggy pink, a sort of intestinal mucosal membrane color. Short Attention Span to the rescue! Instead, two leather love seats, a handful of ottomans and a few sacks of craft supplies came home. Instead, we drove out to Napa and bought a 22' travel trailer. Instead, I did laundry and vacuumed. Instead, Karl and I caught bees (I got a small sting). Instead, we scheduled to go look at a vegie oil Mercedes. Instead, I babysat our chiropractor's lovely daughter. Instead, we partied with an impromptu bar-b-que. Instead, I foraged urban lemons. Instead, we began moving stuff into the attic.

So what's the progress on painting? We bought paint (yes, it's the enviro-friendly zero VOC kind!), we did some room prep, and Xena scrubbed part of a window's trim with TSP.

In the Flow: Reuniting People and Restoring Landscape

My amazing friend Bonita held a reunion of sorts at Mariposa Grove. Friends, former neighbors and teachers flowed through the community from early afternoon until late at night, celebrating her and the connections we had with her and through her and with each other. I first met her when she lived here and I took the permaculture training class. She left to pursue her own goals more fully a few months after we moved in. She knows the space as it was, when fewer permie principles had manifested in the intentional community. She is... a priestess, an incarnation of the divine, a full and present participant in the dance of life. I grow and become a better person by simply being around her.

She and her partner are planning the water system for their homestead, so she was curious about ours.

"We've directed rain from my roof and the neighbor's into this trough," I said, indicating the french drain we built. "It flows to this catch basin filled with drain rock. The catch basin is about 3 feet deep. When it fills, there's an overflow channel to carry water below ground level to the edge of the property. In the dry season, we have a diverter valve at the laundry so we can drain our gray water into the basin."



"What's the purpose of the catch basin?" She asked.

"We want to recharge the ground water aquifer. The water table is pretty high here, but the bay is very close, too. Salination is probably not a problem, but it might be someday. We've identified that the back of this property used to be a shallow stream. Water flows downhill towards us not only from the immediate neighbor's roof, but the two properties beyond are hardscaped; we get a whole lot of water running over the ground. So by digging this french drain at the edge of our property, and directing the water towards its historic location I feel like I'm helping restore something that was lost. During a recent storm, I calculated that the entire drain system will catch and store at least 500 gallons before it overflows."

"Wow, that sounds like a lot of water!" she said. "What happens to water you don't capture?"

"Ha! This is where what you taught me really comes in: I spent a year watching the land, getting to know it. Come here, look at where the overflow leads." We walked to the other side of the yard. "In the heaviest storms, water bubbles up out of the drain and then under the fence. But see? This neighbor has hardscape too, and their sidewalk is sort of culvert shaped. The water flows down to the street instead of pooling around their foundation."

She said, "This sounds like a really great solution!" She smiled (I love her smile). "What I really appreciate is that you considered what was happening both upstream and downstream."

I preened a little inside. "Well, you all taught me 'There is no away.'"

Squash-tastic!

Our raised beds are going great guns! Of course, it's hard to go wrong with squash in this area. Many of our plants are volunteers from seeds that didn't get hot enough in the compost; so at least we know these are things we've eaten before! I just couldn't resist taking a pic of this flower and two fruits, spilling over the side of the bed.

So you, want to, go to the show?

Life as we know it is changing forever as the pincers of Peak Oil and Global Climate Change close upon us. What to do?

Pay down your debt (you'll need the cash later)
Grow your own food
Get to know the neighbors (take down the fences, grow more food and borrow more tools)
Drive less
Have more parties
Learn to entertain without using fossil fuels

We've begun construction on Willow Stage, soon to be one of the premier backyard venues. Who knows what sorts of homegrown skits and nonsense we will get to watch? To act in? To direct? We will be inaugurating it during our all-night solstice party.

"The willow makes an amazing backdrop for the stage," says Betsy. "Like it already has curtains."

Gorgeous Greens

"Bob, I'm not scared of you anymore," the four-year-old says in that fresh, open, non-sequitur way they have. Nearby, her mom photographs the poppies and represses a laugh, settling for a secret little smile.

"Oh? You were scared of me?" I think back, and decide perhaps she means she was shy of me.

"Yeah, when we first moved here. But I wanted to live where there were flowers," (giving a little twirl and inclusive hand wave), "and so here we are! It's so beautiful."

"I think so too. I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah."

We pick a few greens together from the raised bed. The plants continue to thrive. Three months on now, the arugula is bolting, so we're eating it as fast as we can so the softer leafed greens can get their turn in the sun.

"This kind is spicy to my mouth," she says. "I'm going to give it to the chickens."

The chickens, of course, gobble up greens like candy, and then bless us with delicious fresh eggs. She pokes stalks through the wire mesh sides of the chicken tractor, the hens cluck softly as they compete for the stems, and she goes inside leaving me alone to appreciate the sounds of green leaves quietly converting sunlight into tissue.

It's a good day, I think, as I munch on baby lettuce.

Wouldn't you like to be, my neighbor?

There's a neighboring duplex for sale. Just $440k asking price. Want to become part of the fun of living on our street? Come to common meal? Enjoy the fire pit and BBQ on a cooling summer evening, help care for bees or chickens? This building is a separated from mine by two other lots, so we won't be able to remove the fence and include the yard, but we will find other ways to include you in the community.

Nearly 1900 square feet total. Upstairs is a rent-paying elderly lady, the downstairs is 3 bedrooms and a bath. It looks pretty nice. I've heard that the downstairs got some rain in it, so if you buy it be sure to invite all your new cohousing neighbors over for work parties to help dig french drains and whatever else will be required.

Go to Daniel Winkler & Associates to see more.

Oh, and you don't have to believe in science or global warming or Al Gore or peak oil to be welcomed by us... but we would like you to be friendly, interested in people, active in some sort of social justice work, an artist, musician, performer, good with kids, and able to tolerate if not outright celebrate people wildly different than you.