oh gads, it's weather! and stuff. always stuff.

And hot at that. The only things thriving at Casa Awesome are me and Molly the Eggplant. Everyone and everything else is just kinda laying around lookin' half dead. I'm watering every day and patting my husband and my dog on the head.

The seeds I planted are MUCHO HAPPIOSO. Everything except that damn finicky parsnip-diva-seeds are up. In the propogator, everything is up excet: the Vit (have plenty of time to try again(, the brussel sprouts (bummer), and the Merlot lettuce (which can take up to 21 days to germinate but I really think SOMETHING would have happened by now. I'll try again). In fact, things are so popping up, that the beans have grown about 6" in a week and I absolutely must transplant the poc choi either directly into the garden this weekend or in bigger pots . The Chinese cabbage has its first 2 true leaves, so into pots (or directly into the garden? hmmm???) it goes as well.

I am now out in the garden 3x/day during the weekday. Now that I have the watering and the feeding down, I'm amazed how much things change in 12 hours. Now that I actually have things sprouting from seed, I'm desperately in love with this teeny plot and the surrounding containers. I can't stay away from it. I dream about my garden almost every night and think about it all day.

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Mostly, I think of expansion. I'm asking my father-in-law if I can expand and build two 18x3 beds and fence the whole thing in. That'll give me 150 square feet of growing space for next spring.

This 150 square feet doesn't include 2 blueberry bushes (which I may expand), 1 lime tree, 1 lemon tree in containers as well as the 7 other containers that I grow food in , the 2-3 potato bins that I want to start in spring, the herb/strawberry garden on the side of the house, or the half-barrel I'm planning to buy to grown rasberries in. That functionally gives me most likely more than 200 square feet.

I'm kind of terrified to build 2 more beds instead of just 1. It seems like a whole helluva lot. I'm not doubling---I'm tripling (I have one 17x3 right now, but have only 41' of plantable space instead of 51' so I can have boards on the ground to reach the back foot.) I keep telling myself that I could actually have room to grow garlic and onions this way and maybe some flowers (more for pest control than to look at). I could even get corn for next year and enough produce to actually can/freeze for the winter (which is the goal). Still, it's tripling. And I've had a non-productive yield this year (yes! i know! my first time! winging it! but still...) so it's hard to think about having a triple-shitty yield next year.

OTOH, my impulse is (like my impulse ALWAYS is): In for a penny, in for a pound. Let's just do this and see what happens. Why start small and reasonable when I can get neurotic and freak the fuck out of myself?!? " Exactly", I say. And so I have another conversation just like every other conversation I have with myself in which I get in over my head.

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I have, of course ,been spending my time reading about farming and trying to learn about permaculture. It has been frustrating and disappointing. I feel like I'm just living in the wrong part of the country. I mean, not only can I not afford even 1 whole acre of land--there are too many friggin' hippies around here that need self-validating.

I've learned this lesson as soon as I moved out here. I mean, I moved to be with a bunch of hippies--basically. Techno hippies, but still hippies. But, you know, I just can't stand it. Just like I couldn't stand it within months of moving here. Which is why the reason I moved here basically broke down (and had been in it's final death-throws for months before I showed up)

There is so many things that are similar. We both want to "opt out". We both want to be self-sufficient, tread lightly, live simply--but...guh. I mean, really--take a bath, get a job, read a newspaper, be functional. Put down the pipe. Just for a minute. It didn't happen in the 1960s. It isn't happening today.

Where the hell are all the wanna-be farmers who just want to get dirty and learn things and be self-reliant because it is fun to be self-sufficient? You know, you people who don't have to fucking talk about healing Gaia and the Goddess Energy and Crystal Healing and the Evils of the Man?!? Where are you?!? Do you exist? Do you exist without drum circles and dancing around like you think you are a fairy or wood nymph or garden gnome or whatever?!? Are there people who believe in permaculture who also like to swill bourbon and cuss and be inappropriate at times?

Where are you people who raise chickens simply because chickens are friggin' hilarious and as a bonus--they give you eggs? Sure, you know exactly how they were raised and you want them to have a nice chicken life and they can eat bugs you don't want and fertilize the bajeesus outta yer yard. YES! that IS important--but damn, chickens sure are funny and dumb and it's delightful to watch them and you can't stop laughing when you see them? Are you there?

Where are you people who want to be living a simple life and yet not be so"terminally deep"? Do you exist? Is there any of you who can do it because it just makes sense and you are willing to share without being preachy and annoying about it? Do you gotta preach to the choir? Can't we just encourage each other without one-upsman ship?

I just can't stand it. There has to be people like me and I can never find them--except for the dude who is selling me my Thanksgiving Turkey THAT I AM KILLING AND DRESSING MYSELF** But there has to be more than that dude. I just have to deal with so many bullshit people to find that diamond in the rough.

I think AwesomeHusband is just bidding his time until I do my usual birdie, "hey lookie! A shiny thing!" self and go on to other things. He, unfortunately, doesn't know that this is all a part of the Big Game Plan. Sure, it morphs and changes...but if you've ever looked back into everything I've dabbled in...it isn't a surprise at all.

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Speaking of finding people, Saturday is my first day (from 10-1) on the work crew for Seattle Tilth. I can't wait. I hope people are nice . Every time I think about Saturday, something opens up in my chest and I feel calm.

I'm nervous. I'm extremely shy, I guess. I don't know why I was such an extrovert until I turned into an adult, but the older I get--the more shy I get. Maybe what I really mean is not that I hope people are nice, but that I hope that I'm not too shy and meet some nice people.

We're just pruning and prepraing beds for fall crops, but I'm sure I'm going to learn a lot.

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** I am not sure if I mentioned it in this blog or not, but I've got a date to slaughter and process a turkey for Thanksgiving this year. My er...uh...future step-mother-in-law (modern relationships are so complicated. I have no idea how to formally relate her to me, so maybe I'll have to get a nickname for her as well.) wants to come with me to watch and help. While I'm terrified to actually do it myself anyway--I'm not sure if having her with me increases my anxiety or decreases it. I mean, she's absolutely AWESOME in the way she is just like me in the "Huh--I wonder what that is like. Let's do it." frame-of-mind that I'm in. OTOH, I feel some sort of performance anxiety. :)

Baking, cooking, whatever

In terms of the Midwest, what we are dealing with weather-wise where I live is actually: Mid Spring. For a person who has lived in Seattle for her adult life? I'm friggin' DYING. Where the hell is the airc-onditioning? Why the hell can I only open 1 window in the living room of my house that actually has like 5 windows?!? (Don't ask. I think some crazy, previous owner thought it would be a great idea to basically CEMENT (no i am not being dramatic) the windows closed for insulation instead of, you know, dealing with the real problem of why things get cold in this house is because the damn fireplace did not have a damn flue built in it in the early 1920s. Idiot.)

Anyway, I haven't written about cooking or baking or keeping up with the Bread Baker's Challenge because I don't want to turn on my oven for any reason at all for the last 2 months or so. Anything except fresh, raw vegetables has sounded fairly revolting to me.

My father and I just talked about it last week. We were both commenting about how easy it is to lose weight in the summer because cooked, warm food sounds so naaaaaaaasty. Sticking my head into various food bins at farmers markets?!? Absolutely delightful. that's about as far as it goes in the cooking/baking department. Everything except fresh, raw produce sounds too heavy and blech.

So, that's what I'm doing. Cleaning out the freezer for Mr. Awesome's meals and eating raw vegetables for myself.

After talking to my Dad, there DOES seem to be some type of "biological wisdom" in it (for whatever crazy talk that is worth). In winter I absolutely DO crave root vegetables, and slow-cooked meats, potatoes, breads that take days to make. Heavy, warm, comforting foods when everything is dark and wet.

No rain and long days?!? I want nothing more than to pick things right off the plant, if I can. Spend all day grazing on raw fruits and vegetables. No meal times. Just a cherry or pea pods and lettuce here and there while I work outside. And it absolutely feels like a taking in of things that I crave at the moment because I know I wont' have them for a long, long time if I try to grow it myself. High summer is a time for decadence with so many plants of various colors growing. I'm at my own little buffet table with my head straight up and my mouth open...just trying to devour what the sun is bringing to me. No wonder I have nothing to bring to the dinner table. I try to weed my gardnen and end up eating everything in it.

Every day I become the hippie that I'm fighting against.

I should learn to accept this.