I love Novella Carpenter. I've never met her, I don't know her personally, but after reading her amazing account of turning an abandoned lot in a bad part of Oakland into a thriving little farm in her book, Farm City, I felt like I knew her.
Well, Novella's in trouble. If you've been following the saga in the blogs, I'll spare you the details, but basically the city of Oakland is slapping her with a fine for unauthorized use of her land and she needs to purchase a $2500 permit in order to sell her produce, or face shutting down the farm. With about $2500 being the amount that she makes in a year of selling her surplus in a pop-up stand, you can see the conundrum. You can read the whole story on her blog here, and if you've got a few extra bucks that you can spare via PayPal, I'm sure it would be appreciated.
Novella is a hero to me, and she's been a source of inspiration to countless thousands of others just like me. If I can help in any way, you can be damn sure that I will.
The cycles of a garden are amazing. Every action taken leads inevitably to some kind of effect, whether positive or negative... pinching off new growth creates robust, bushy offshoots; the addition of bamboo poles suddenly inspires pea tendrils to start clinging and climbing instead of lolling around in the dirt; and tiny seeds thrust teeny, hopeful cotyledon leaves into the air like micro-solar-panels. If you've never grown anything edible, I highly recommend that you start. It can be a single pot of basil! Absolutely nothing competes with the sense of pride and accomplishment that's gained from taking a small action in soil that results in a real, tangible, reward that bursts with flavour and nourishes the body.
Lettuce is almo
st too easy. And I've grown WAY too much of it! That, however, is exactly why growing food is also a way to grow human connections. When you've carefully planned, planted and tended a crop, however small, you become intensely connected to the process that brings food from earth to table. To waste it would be unthinkable. So what to do? Well, my friend, it's time to share! The heat of the summer has arrived early, which means my greens are starting to bolt and become bitter instead of sweet, with their energies now focused on flowers instead of delicious and delicate leaves. Friends, neighbours and family will now share in the bounty, and salads are served daily on Mo Farm this week!
I'll keep sowing lettuce throughout the summer to grow in shaded pots and eat as baby greens, but the precious in-ground space that the Buttercrunch and Black-Seeded Simpson had occupied will now become prime real estate for the watermelons. And I might have purchased one more tomato on impulse today... her name is Arkansas Marvel. We'll find out just how marvelous she is!
