For me, the big one was getting over my fear of the unknown by finally diving in and planting seeds on my little balcony. I’d never done that. They’re coming up now, and it really is a thrill to see the little green shoots–except for the beet shoots, which are red!

• Planted: ­ mesclun salad mix, beets, and chives in the Earthbox; a cherimoya tree just to see what happens; also transplanted a gift tomato seedling into a homemade SWC.
• Harvested: ­ rosemary [a sprig now and then for cooking or bathroom air freshening.]
• Preserved: ­ milk [as yogurt].
• Prepped: cleaned and organized the balcony for gardening; got coffee grounds from the Starbucks across the street and mixed them, along with powdered eggshells, into my leftover potting soil from the last failed garden; bought and set up a bokashi compost bucket; mixed some bokashi into the soil for good measure; made a SWC using a 3-liter soda bottle and a 5 gallon bucket; sprouted beans for cooking [didn't like the taste, though]; got more 5-gal. buckets free from the food co-op [used for both storage and container gardening.]
• Stored:­ pinto beans, lentils, popcorn, sesame seeds, herbs, and raisins in a bucket; froze walnuts, pecans, powdered milk, and flour.
• Learned:­ how to amend poor soil and start seeds.
• Cooked something new ­ corn muffins from scratch, flat bread.

Yay!

I really just wanted an excuse to post my version of porn–I could look at that arm all day–but I also want to affirm my intention to bake my first loaf of bread, without a breadmaking machine, this week. Meanwhile, enjoy the arm.

[Update: Now that I think about it, I realize I should have married a baker. How stupid of me!]

Against the grain

Frustration. Plants needed repotting. Seeds needed planting. Time was wasting.

Then my friend Nicole offered to take me to the organic co-op again to get some groceries. She brought with her one of the tomato plants she’d started and gave it to me. Now I had the beginnings of a real little vegetable garden: the tomato, a sprouting sweet potato, several herbs, as well as seeds for mesclun salad mix, beets, chives, fennel, and more herbs. But the tomato needed to be transplanted, fast, and I couldn’t plant anything until I got something good to put into my tired old potting soil.

Nicole mentioned that Whole Foods sells compost, and she wanted to stop there on the way home to pick up a few things. Problem solved! Or so I thought.

While Nicole shopped, I browsed the garden center outside. I chose a large bag of compost and spent a long time at the seed rack, in spite of the strong fragrance that seemed to be coming from a man who was seated nearby. [For those who aren't longtime Bornfamous readers, and that would be most of you, I get terrible migraines from synthetic fragrances and other toxic chemicals.] I shouldn’t have stuck around, but I wanted more seeds to plant. I finally picked out my seeds: bush beans, onions, and something else I can’t remember.

By the time I got to Nicole’s car, I could tell it had been a mistake. A headache was definitely in my future. I put the compost in the trunk and carried the seed packets in my favorite canvas bag, that I embroidered during my crafts phase last year [and I do hope that particular obsession returns soon], in the front seat with me. I started to feel nauseous and leaned out the window for air as I waited for Nicole.

When I got home, I quickly changed clothes, washed my hands and face, and wiped down my hair with wet hands, my usual routine after an outing, to remove surface residue from any exposures I might have had. It sounds weird, I know, but it usually works when the exposure is a minor one like being briefly near someone wearing fragrance. A longer or stronger exposure requires a shower with, of course, fragrance-free soap and shampoo.

But it didn’t work. My headache continued for the rest of the day until I finally gave in and took a shower. Then the phone rang. It was Nicole.

“Are you reacting?” she asked, rolling the ‘r’ with her strong French accent.

“Uh, yes–why?”

“Because I’m reacting,” she said. Fifteen years ago, Nicole had a major exposure to termaticide that forced her out of her home to wander from motel to motel and live in her car for months until she found a pesticide-free home in the high desert. She’s mostly well now, but she still has problems with pesticides.

We decided our reactions must be caused by the fragrance at Whole Foods, where scented candles and body products fill up much of the store with perfume. [I won't go into why I think that's a bad idea in a FOOD store, but I think you can guess.]

It wasn’t until the next day, while looking through the packets of seeds, that I realized fragrance wasn’t the problem. My hands began itching where the seed packets had touched them. Then I picked up a hankie to blow my nose, got a strong whiff of pesticide, and realized the seed packets had been sitting on the hankie. Why hadn’t I noticed the pesticide smell before? Maybe the fragrance at the store masked it, I don’t know. What I did know was that strong itching like what my hands were experiencing was more likely a reaction to pesticide.

I threw the seed packets in the trash can and started wondering about the bag of compost. Was that contaminated too? I’d put it out on the balcony to wait until I could get around to using it. No sense taking a chance. And what about my embroidered canvas bag? I threw that in the trash too, not without some regret. Pesticides don’t wash out, and even if they did, I didn’t want to chance contaminating the washer, and eventually my clothes, bedding, towels, you name it. Better to throw out a few unimportant items now than a lot of essential items later–and I’ve known several people who have had to do exactly that. I can always embroider another bag and buy more compost and seeds. Out they went to the dumpster. With alcohol, I washed my desk where the seed packets had lain. Disaster averted.

A call to the manager at Whole Foods reassured me that he was very concerned. He said they don’t use any pesticides in or around the store, but the seed packets may have been contaminated in the warehouse or during shipping. He promised to investigate.

And now, I am once again without compost. The tomato plant waits in its plastic yogurt container, roots expanding by the minute. Visions of my previous garden dance in my head.

Hmm. I’ve heard that coffee grounds make good fertilizer and Starbucks gives them away to gardeners, and there just happens to be a Starbucks across the street…anybody know if that’s a good or a bad idea?

Take off your clothes and start gardening! But don’t expect me to join you. :o]

Grandma always said, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” God, I hated that. But see, that’s where I really failed. I gave up the first or second time I didn’t succeed, largely out of embarrassment, which made me feel like more of a failure than ever. This became a habit over time until it seemed like the normal way to live: don’t risk embarrassment; don’t try anything hard. And fercrissake, don’t BLOG about it when you do!

Well, screw that.

I’m here to tell the world that I fail all the time. I’m a horrible failure at pretty much everything I try–the first time. And often, the second. But the third time, not so much. I’ve learned in the past few months of trying new things that each time gets a little better.

Sharon’s Independence Days Challenge is based on the idea that in order to become free of corporate domination, we need to do something toward our own food independence every day, even if it’s only one thing. Sounds like a bite I can chew. Here’s the list of choices:

1. Plant something.
2. Harvest something.
3. Preserve something.
4. Prep something.
5. Cook something [try new recipes/skills].
6. Manage your reserves.
7. Work on local food systems.

So, in the spirit of food independence, today I:

• Sewed a sprouting bag out of some muslin [#4 - prep something].
• Started some anasazi beans to soak for sprouting [also #4 plus #5, learning a new cooking skill].
• Made yogurt [#2 - preserve something. Did you know that yogurt is a way of preserving milk? I read that somewhere. Cool!]

Oh, and last night I decluttered my IRL desktop [decluttering counts as #4, prepping.] I can actually SEE it now.

Yeehaw!

2. Click and read all the links in the post. If you didn’t know things were this bad, educate yourself now. Stop to think about how things got this way.

3. Write to your representatives. Blog. Tell everybody you know. Express your outrage. Follow the other suggestions at the end of Greenpa’s post.

4. Don’t stop.

Don’t believe it? Cartoon creator Mike Adams wrote an article that just might change your mind at NaturalNews.com.

Why, it’s NakedJen, of course!