Il Fait Chaud!

I have been surprised by the number of "volunteers" that have shown up in my garden: sunflowers, tomatoes, squash, zinnias, and others that I have lumped into the general category of Weeds. As I weed out the intruders, I blame our compost for not being hot enough to kill the seeds that I so nonchalantly threw into the pile. Of course, blaming the compost pile is just kicking the dog. There is someone to blame, but it isn't the dog (we don't have one). I have a feeling I have met the enemy, and it is us!

Steps had to be taken to get our compost pile into shape. For a compost pile to get really hot, between 140 and 160 degrees, you need to have an appropriate mix of ingredients: 1 part nitrogen to 3 parts carbon. That means that high nitrogen sources like vegetable wastes from the kitchen or garden and  manure must be layered into a pile with a significant amount of carbon sources like dried leaves and mulches. In addition, the pile must be turned regularly. This requires getting out there with a pitch fork and moving all 100 cubic feet of material (5x5x4 feet) from the layered pile to another pile, preferably right beside it, thereby turning the original pile upside down. This aerates the material and serves to stimulate all the microorganisms, causing them to throw a big party, eat a lot of food, and generate an awful lot of heat. Turning the pile every few weeks should cause all of the material to break down within a couple of months into beautiful black compost that will fertilize the garden without adding to your personal stress level by forcing you to decide whether the green you see emerging from the ground is something you planted this season or something you ate last season.

So off we went to get the compost pile in order. It took three hours of hard work, but we had everything turned and rebuilt, with heat coming off of it almost immediately.

Now you may think you have read the main point of this post, but you haven't. There is more to this story, and it has to do with the fact that the long awaited day has arrived--our chickens have begun to lay!!!

Our first egg was delivered by Laura the Australorp on March 27 at 9:48 a.m. (How's that for dramatic effect!) It just so happened that I was watching the coop as she came down the ramp and made her announcement to the world. We immediately gathered the very small first egg, and though the egg had a  crack where she had perhaps given it a peck to see if it really was real, we just could not keep from grinning as we examined the color and hardness of the shell. After turning it over several times, noting its heft, we decided that because of the crack, the egg would have to go into the compost pile.

After an appropriate period of ooh-ing and aah-ing, both Harvey and I went our separate ways to work on the lists we had made for ourselves. About forty-five minutes later, we met in the kitchen for coffee. I asked to see the egg so that I could check on the color and consistency of the yolk. The egg, however, had already been put into the compost--buried in the pile where all of those partying microbes were. Of course, there was no getting around it. The egg had to be retrieved so that we could crack it open to see the inside, and of course, that was Harvey's job.

Harvey returned, grinning as he put the hot little orb into my hand. "It's probably cooked," he said jokingly.

And there you have it. An egg that almost meets the requirement for a soft-boiled egg--cooked in the compost pile in a very short period of time!

Tonight's supper is a foil-pack dinner (bits of steak, potatoes, and carrots wrapped in foil) a la compost. It's great to know we have our own alternate source of energy--and it is some hot!

P.S. Just joking about dinner, but who knows....

Music Week!

What a week for great music!


On Wednesday night Harvey and I went to see Stanley "Buckwheat" Dural, Jr., perform at the Sliman Theatre in downtown New Iberia. Buckwheat, or Buckwheat Zydeco--as the group is known, has been playing music for more than thirty years, has toured all over the world, and when they came home to Louisiana and scheduled a performance in New Iberia, it was time to celebrate!


Friends on Allen Street invited us over for pre-show sandwiches and drinks. We are not talking about white bread sandwiches, though those are to die for since I never buy white bread. No, these sandwiches were made with homemade focaccia, an Italian flatbread--tender, salty, airy, perfect for enclosing meat and cheese, drizzling with olive oil, or stuffing with herbs and seasonings. Of course, you can do any of those things one at a time--or all three of them at one time. When someone invites you to have a sandwich made with homemade focaccia, don't ever refuse.


Since this was a Buckwheat Celebration, I offered to bring a buckwheat dish, though I had no idea what that might be. Who cooks with buckwheat? I've heard of buckwheat pancakes, but that was out of the question since we already had great bread in the works. Of course, Google came to the rescue. I found what I was looking for at 101 Cookbooks. All of the cookie recipes on this site look terrific, and I can vouch for the Nibby Buckwheat Butter Cookies, though I changed the recipe slightly to Chippy Buckwheat (Zydeco) Butter Cookies--a bit longer title, but a good deal less expensive since my cookies were made with chocolate chips at $3.00 a pound, instead of cacao nibs at $15.00 a pound! I've never tasted cacao nibs, so I don't know what I'm missing. It must be close to a religious experience at that price--and I might pay it one of these days--just once!


The food was delicious and Buckwheat was great! That was Wednesday.


Thursday night's memorable musical performance was part of a series put on by the Performing Arts Society of Acadiana (PASA). The moderator for the evening introduced the performers with these words: This is possibly one of the best performances PASA has ever brought to Lafayette [or something like that]! PASA has brought some terrific performances to Lafayette, so who could blame me for being a little skeptical.


I shouldn't have been. Bela Fleck, Zakir Hussain and Edgar Meyer were not just good; they were not just great; they were not just fabulous--they were the best! Each musician is a virtuoso on his instrument. Each one individually has enough talent to hold an audience spell-bound for an entire performance. Having all three on the stage at once, hearing them perform so beautifully as a trio, truly was a religious experience!


That was Thursday. Friday was lecture night with Dr. Glenn Albrecht. 


This was Music Week. "Solastalgia" will have to wait for another day.

Joan Gussow: This Organic Life

Today, after cooking a birthday meal for my granddaughter (local, fresh, nutritious everything), I spent the afternoon reading the final chapters of This Organic Life: Confessions of a Suburban Homesteader by Joan Dye Gussow. Being introduced to the work of Joan Gussow was a serendipitous outcome of the urban chicken-keeping talk I gave at the library last week. During one of the symposium breaks, a participant came up to me and said that my talk reminded her of Joan's book. Needless to say, I was intrigued and went out to buy a copy the next day. I have been amazed to find that Joan Gussow recognized the unsustainability of our food system more than forty years ago and has been teaching, lecturing, and growing her own food as a moral imperative ever since.

As I look back at the last sentence I am struck by the term that almost automatically appeared in the line of text: moral imperative. Just what do I mean by that? I would define it as an issue of justice that has arisen within a person's own frame of reference for what is right and wrong. It does not depend on dogma or rules of any organization or group, and it is held as a valid call to action by the individual holding the belief. Food brings with it justice issues. There are issues of health that relate to food safety and nutrition, or lack thereof. There are issues of fairness related to government subsidies, labor rights, and equitable and responsible use of non-renewable resources used in food production. There are issues related to the tying of a country's food supply system to a capitalist economic system that serves only growth and profits. At some point there will enter a counter, a moral imperative, that will insist upon a regard not just for profits, but also for the health of the community, people and planet, the food system serves.

Forty years ago, while I was a new mother unthinkingly buying every kind of canned baby food sold at the A&P grocery, Joan Gussow understood our flawed food system and had begun growing her own food. (Unlike many who have been "born again," she is a "flexible fanatic" who will buy food at farmer's markets or farm stands near her home, but she is ever aware of the real cost, economic and social, of food--and that applies to the food she grows as well as the food she buys.) It has taken quite a few years for me to reach the level of understanding that would compel me to turn our front lawn into a garden, but there it is--and though I am nowhere near growing all of our food, I am surprised by how much food I actually do grow. Broccoli was a bumper for us this winter, as were beets, carrots, cabbages, and Swiss chard. We have grown our own lettuces for over a year. I have changed considerably over the last forty years--as everyone is likely to do. And though my past includes many food-processed "sins," I have to say-- I never, ever bought a package of Hamburger Helper.

That reminds me of a Buddhist saying, "When the student is ready, the teacher appears." In the last couple of years, several teachers have appeared that have set me off on a journey of discovery that has been fulfilling in mind, spirit, and especially, body! If I were to make of list of influential  "food" teachers, people who have helped me to develop my own moral imperative related to food justice, Michael Pollan would have to have a prominent spot, along with Frances Moore Lappe, and the family and friends who have given me sage advice in getting my garden to grow. Now I can add Joan Gussow's name to the list of people who have fueled my passion for growing my own food, for supporting local farmers and farmer's markets, and for bolstering my determination to stay away from processed foods--except for an occasional pint of Haagen Dazs.

Information Resources on Chicken Page

On the Chicken page you will find a resource page that I will be distributing to the attendees at the Garden Symposium being held at the St. Peter Street branch of the Iberia Parish Library this Saturday, March 12. I will be one of the presenters discussing the raising of chickens within city limits. They say stranger things have happened!

Joel Salatin on Food Safety - If Monsanto's For It...

Modern-day Farmer Guru--Joel Salatin of Polyface Farm.

Zsa Zsa Revisited

It appears there is a progression gardeners travel as they make their way through the seasons.

My first attempts at gardening were made with seedlings. Seedlings are for insecure gardeners--those who are not sure this is going to work, but starting with plants that are alive and green would seem to give even the blackest thumb a chance for success. Of course, it doesn't really work out that way. Many, many plants have to die before you begin listening to their wilting leaves and give them the food, water, and light they insist upon having. No matter how much you wanted those zinnias to bloom in the shade of the crepe myrtles, their stubbornness will trump yours every time.

After a few successes with seedlings, seed catalogs take on a new level of fascination. Each one that comes through the mail slot is greeted with a small leap of excitement and a quick flip through the pages. Then it's left on the counter in anticipation of examining every page during your midmorning coffee break. The seed descriptions are irresistible, and it isn't long before small boxes with packages and more packages of seeds begin arriving at your door. Never will you plant all of the seeds, but you do not know that when you first become intoxicated with seed catalogs and their writers.

I think the next stage, which I have not yet entered, is the collecting of seeds from mature plants. I think there is an art to knowing when the seed is actually ready--pick it too soon and it will tend to get moldy, too late and it will be dried out. And it also helps to know what the seed actually looks like.

At this point, I am fascinated with seeds and seed catalogs. I am not interested in the seedlings at big box stores, I'm interested in grow lights. And that is the real story here.

One of the important bits of information I got from the Southern SAWG conference was a money-saving tip about setting up a grow light. Instead of buying the expensive florescent bulbs made especially for growing plants, a two-bulb florescent shop light fitted with one cool bulb and one warm bulb will provide enough of the light spectrum for growing plants at about half the price of the specialized bulb. It was with this bit of information that Harvey and I set out for Lowe's to get the equipment needed for our own grow light. (Why does this sentence set off an emotion in me that borders on the anxiety of making the first step into a South American jungle?)

I don't know if you have tried to buy a florescent bulb lately (in the last twenty years), but it is not so simple as  finding the bulb aisle and picking up a couple of bulbs. There are choices for every kind of light imaginable--and unimaginable in the case of Harvey and me. There were cool white, sunshine, aquarium, bright white, plant and aquarium, soft white, daylight white...and by this time my stomach was in a knot. What's cool and what's hot? Simple question, difficult answer. Eventually, we settled on two bulbs that had cool and warm in their light descriptions and hoped for the best.

Getting the grow light set up presented another set of problems. We don't have a green house (well, actually we do--green siding all around), and space is limited since we have filled our house over the years with books and musical instruments. The grow light would need to be set up on the porch. But where and how? Our porch has been the place where numerous projects have been undertaken, not the least of which is broodering small chicks. Now it was time to think about it as a plant nursery.

Our porch is the place where I drink my first cup of coffee. Usually I am there before the sun is up. I sip my coffee and read under the soft light of a small lamp. This ritual could not be disturbed by the harsh light of florescent bulbs, no matter how much I wanted to watch the miracle of germination. Enter Zsa Zsa Gabor and the Green Acres crew.

But, Dah-ling, ve can not hang ze light--eet vill disturb me. Can't ve just prop eet up? Here--use these!

And that is how our shop light came to be supported by the only thing I could find that would fit into the space between the two bulbs--a pair of crystal candlesticks. The light fits on the floor between an old cypress table that holds my reading lamp and the chair that I sit in each morning. The light does not disturb the early morning dark, and so far, we are having success. The plants are beginning to grow. But what will I do when the light needs to be raised?

Vell, dah-ling, ve will put some preety books under ze candlesticks!

Don't Give Up !

New posts coming soon:

Zsa Zsa Revisited
Harvey and King Stropheria
Chicken Movie With a Plot!

Shared Buzz About Bees

I'm sharing an email I received from Slow Food USA. Please take a few minutes to read it and sign the petition. Keep the buzz alive!

Dear Opal, Spring's going to be a lot quieter this year. Something is killing off almost 40% of North American honeybees each year, and it's threatening our entire food chain. Mounting scientific evidence suggests agricultural pesticides are one of the culprits. The Environmental Protection Agency has the power to investigate and ban the pesticides thought to be responsible but, despite their own scientists' advice and under pressure from pesticides companies, they're dragging their feet. Much of the plant-life we depend on for food exists thanks to honeybees. Now the bees are depending on us to return the favor. Click here to sign our petition calling on the EPA to solve the mystery that's killing our buzz: http://org2.democracyinaction.org/o/5986/p/dia/action/public/?action_KEY=5833 Bees don't just make honey: from apples to lemons, much of the food we eat may disappear with the bees. Even milk and beef production could be threatened: guess what makes the plants that feed the cows? Our friend the honeybee. What's more, bees add $15 billion to the annual US economy, and their loss will have a devastating impact on food production and food prices. But the EPA is under pressure to do nothing about it from pesticide companies and the pesticide 'scientists' those companies bankroll. The EPA has already acknowledged it should look into the causes of "Colony Collapse Disorder". We need to counter the pesticide lobby's pressure and hold the EPA to that commitment, by sending them a message they can't ignore: http://org2.democracyinaction.org/o/5986/p/dia/action/public/?action_KEY=5833 Everyone stands to lose with the threat to our food chain known as CCD. That's why everyone needs to stand together to counter the pressure the EPA is under not to do it's job:protect the things we rely on to survive. Many Slow Food chapters are also hosting screenings of a new CCD documentary, Vanishing of the Bees. It's a great way to get together in your community and learn more about what you can do to help solve this problem. Time and again Slow Food members get together to celebrate the importance of food. It's now the time to take action to protect that which binds us together, and stand up for the bees that make it all possible. Thanks for spreading the buzz, The Slow Food USA team PS - Can you help spread the buzz? For every 100 signatures we collect on our petition to protect the bees we depend on for our food, we'll send a bee-shaped postcard to the Director of the EPA’s Pesticide Programs. Imagine those on the wall the next time the pesticide lobby pops in!

Slow Food USA and the Slow Food USA Logo are registered trademarks of Slow Food USA. 20 Jay Street, Suite M04 Brooklyn, NY 11201 Tel: 718 260-8000 or 877 SlowFoo(d) Fax: 718 260-8068info@slowfoodusa.org