When the Almond Tree Blooms

It's a typical December afternoon in Seattle--gray skies, rain falling in a steady drizzle, light already fading a little after four o'clock. I am at my parents' house, looking after the place while they are away for the weekend. The last time I recall doing this was during the summer before college, back in 2000. They went camping, I had to work, some mischief occurred, won't get into that story now...except that the results are never good when 18 year olds finish off a bottle of cheap 160 proof 'white lightning' liquor from China. All that matters is that we didn't destroy ourselves or the house, and that this time around--ten years later--the house will be quiet. I awoke this morning and checked the news, and was disheartened to read that the DREAM act had failed in the senate. For the past few days, I had been calling elected officials, doing my part to try and get this important bill to pass. The DREAM act would've allowed undocumented mino

Aunt Nancy and Uncle Marc's Garden, Bainbridge Island WA Carrots, my dad and I learned last Monday, have the most complex flavor of any vegetables, and the third most of any food, after chocolate and coffee. This was one of many nuggets of carrot knowledge we learned from John Navazio, a PhD and seed breeder who works for the Organic Seed Alliance. That organization sponsored the event, a chance for farmers, gardeners and anyone else to learn about carrot seed breeding and trials at Nash's Produce in the Dungeness Valley of Washington's Olympic Peninsula. The seed trials were sponsored by NOVIC, a collaborative that aims to develop seeds for organic farmers in the northern tier of the US, who need to produce a yield from fields that are often too wet or too cold. It wasn't too cold or rainy that day at Nash's, but the fields peered across were muddy from previous days' rain. We stood in our mud boots gazing across acres of carrot tops and pondering this c

Another attempt to revive this blog yet again, complete with a new title and all. After a sometimes frenetic summer at the Farm and Garden, I find the fall lending itself to reflection and writing. As usual, the intent is to use this blog to stay in touch with folks I don't see everyday, and also to practice self-expression through writing and sometimes photos. So here I go again... It's been two weeks since I graduated from the Apprenticeship in Ecological Horticulture at UC Santa Cruz, and my hands show the passing of time since I left the farm. While at CASFS, dirt clung to the undersides of my fingernails and any cracks it could work its way into. It was always there, a pleasant reassurance of the joy of laboring in the soil. Now, having spent most of my post-farm time in cities, it is gone. But not for long. On the last day to move off the farm, Sunday October 17th, rain fell steadily from a gray sky, the first of its' kind we'd seen since June. It was

It's a sunny afternoon here in Santa Cruz, and again I am here in the laundry room not far from the farm. I think I should rename my blog 'Notes from the Laundry Room' or something in that vein. Anyhow, though it is Monday, today is a day off at the farm because Saturday and Sunday we had our big plant sale and all of us were working during at least part of that time. The plant sale was a success, but that's not so much what I want to write about today. I must admit, I wish I were a little more clear-headed as I sit to collect my thoughts. It's a hot afternoon, and I am feeling a bit dehydrated still from my bike ride up the long hill back to the UCSC campus a few hours ago. After running errands, which included a trip to a mall to get my glasses fixed, I appreciate being able to return to my wonderful, green, secluded home, full of verdant life and good people. On the farm there is always work, always something to do. This is less of a burden and more o

Hi Folks, It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon in Santa Cruz, the sun is shining and a nice ocean breeze blowing up the hill. I am doing some laundry though, trying to expel layers of dust, manure, flour and dishwashing grime out of my farm clothes. I don't mind missing a little sunshine time though since I am outside a lot working, eating, hanging out and brushing my teeth even. So far, things on the farm are great. Time seems to operate on two levels here. On one hand, it seems to be speeding past, the two weeks I've been here feel like a blink. But on the other hand, life is so full of new people and experiences that hilling leeks, which I did on Friday, seems like ages ago. The farm is also quickly becoming its' own little world. I rarely leave, especially during the week, and since I am without a car, everything feels that much farther away. It's really a wonderful experience being able to live, eat, work, shower, sleep and socialize all in the same p

Well folks, I am here at the farm at UC Santa Cruz, listening to chirping frogs outside the library. It's been an eventful past couple of months meandering and adventuring since I left Park School. I'm tired from all this moving around so I'm not going to write too much tonight. After my trip to the Mojave and Eastern Sierra, I returned briefly to the Bay Area, but finding the urbanity of it strange and unfamiliar after so much empty space, I quickly departed, heading north to Full Belly farm, where my friend Rawley Johnson is working as an intern. My two days there were eventful, full of all kinds of experiences from digging holes and planting fruit trees until my hands and muscles ached to milking cows and goats to cooking a farm lunch. I savored the taste of fresh goat milk and the beautiful greens of springtime in the Capay. I also appreciated being able to work alongside some of the crew, speaking in Spanish and sharing a difficult job that is a reality of farm

For someone who grew up in one of the more damp, green corners of the world (Seattle, WA), I've always loved deserts. When I was a kid, I would go with my dad to Ernst Hardware Store in the University Village (back when the U Village had stores that actually sold useful stuff) in Seattle. Sometimes, if I was lucky, he would buy me a cactus or a little plant. The old man's beard cactus still sits on a desk in my parents' house, not much taller than when I bought it at least twenty years ago. So for me, deserts are pretty cool places, especially if they have cacti. After leaving Flagstaff last Wednesday, I planned to spend a few days drifting back to the Bay Area through the deserts of Eastern California. I am glad I did. I turned off I-40 a bit further west than Needles, CA and didn't get back on the interstate until I reached Stockton yesterday night. So what did I find out there in the desert? Solitude, for one thing. Having spent the past three weeks on Bla

Ok so it's been a while since I've done any blogging. But I am on the move and have much to write about, so here I go again. About a month ago, back in February, I left my job teaching Nutrition and Garden at Park Elementary in Hayward, CA. It was a sad farewell, and I will miss many students, parents and staff there, but I was ready to move on and experience new challenges, adventures and opportunities to grow, learn and have fun. I packed up my stuff in boxes, loaded my car with supplies and headed east for the high deserts of the Navajo Nation, specifically the contested partition lands of Black Mesa. The history of the Hopi-Navajo land dispute and it's relationship to the coal interests is a complicated one. At the center of it lies Black Mesa, a rolling plateau of sagebrush and pinon and juniper forests, the traditional home of many Dine (Navajo) sheepherding families. Under their lands lie some of the largest coal deposits in the U.S. For decades, the coal in