Showing posts with label Urban homesteading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urban homesteading. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Something for history geeks



(The brave souls of The Edwardian Farm together with a randy ram and one of their

big shire horses used for plowing and pulling wagons.)




I don’t watch television. I don’t have cable, and in Colorado if you don’t have cable you can’t watch TV. The mountains block signal. I remember growing up how irritated I was by this. Even with an antenna, the picture was always fuzzy and prone to disturbance.



But I do love a good documentary. If our local cable providers would permit it, I would order the History and Discovery channels a la carte. But they don’t. So about six or so years ago, I told them to take their converter box and shove it. I haven’t missed television (which I rarely watched even when I had cable) at all.



When I do watch television programs, it’s usually a DVD I’ve bought or sometimes a program on Hulu, such as Castle, which I love. (The writer jokes crack me up.)



But my sister knows me very well. She sent me a link to a new program that I've absolutely fallen in love with and which I want to share with the other history geeks out there. Of course, there’s every chance you’ve already discovered it. I’m a bit slow.



The name of it is The Edwardian Farm. It’s a BBC program that shows life on an Edwardian farm as lived through two archaeologists and one historian who move into an Edwardian farmhouse and begin living the way people lived in that area back around 1900. My degree is in archaeology, and the daily lives of ordinary people is one thing that draws me to writing fiction. No detail is too small. I find everything utterly fascinating.



(Here, they’re working a cider press on cider apples. That pile of straw in the middle is actually layer upon layer of crushed apples with the straw folded over and laid on top. It's called a “cheese.”)



And this program goes into great detail. How do you clean germs out of an outdoor privy in that time period? How do you maintain the hedgerows that keep your livestock from running off or getting into your crops? How do you plow a field with horses? How do you make quicklime? How do you preserve food without refrigerators? How do you clean a stopped chimney?



I have loved every episode I’ve watched — all of them on YouTube — and I can’t recommend it enough.



As some of you know, I’m very involved in urban farming and what’s called the “localization” movement. Localization is the reverse of globalization. It’s about making sure that your community produces what it uses, especially where food is concerned. The idea is to prevent unnecessary pollution and to make your community secure in case of a catastrophe. If you grow your own food and your community produces almost all of the food and goods and services humans need to live and thrive, then the global economy can go to hell without your family being hurt.



On a personal level, it means learning skills your grandparents knew — knitting, quilting, sewing, canning, growing gardens, having orchards, keeping chickens and bees. A person on an ordinary lot can do most of these things (depending on climate), and so provide most of the food their family needs. My grandfather built his own house and fed his six children on an orchard, grape arbor and vegetable garden that he cultivated in their backyard. They also had pigeons, rabbits and a goat (for milk).



We outsource most of that nowadays. Rather than doing these things ourselves, we’ve grown dependent on others to do them for us. That gives us more time, but what do people do with that time that really counts? Not only are we less connected to our own lives, we are at the mercy of the entire chain of people who supply the goods and the labor. This fact was driven home to me in December 2006 when six feet of snow fell in four weeks in my front yard and the grocery store shelves became empty. Empty. You couldn’t even buy sugar.



I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be dependent on an entire global mechanism for feeding my family. I don’t want to “outsource” my life. I’m trying very hard to “insource” it. (I invented that word, by the way, as far as I know. I’m involved in the localization movement here in the county and was trying to find a term for what we’re doing.)



This topic fascinates me, so if any of you are interested in the “transition movement,” which got its start in Great Britain and is also called localization, let me know. I may start a separate blog about that.



I enjoy being able to do things for myself and being reconnected with my own life in that way, rather than simply working for a paycheck and spending all that money on things I can learn to do myself. I find it very wholesome and appealing somehow, even if it is a lot of work. And this program, The Edwardian Farm, is basically about these three people learning the skills their great-grandparents had — i.e., reskilling themselves — and learning to be self-sufficient again.



So how do you clean a stopped up chimney back in the day? One option was to stuff a chicken down your chimney. It would flap and claw and break the soot free. But it was also kind of mean to the chicken — something that probably didn’t matter back in 1900. Another less chicken-y option was to take branches from a holly bush, bind them together and shove them up the chimney. Fascinating!



Apparently, prior to this, these three had a program called The Victorian Farm, which is equally fascinating. During the Edwardian period, technological advances included combustion-engine plows, indoor plumbing, gas ranges and so forth. When I’m done watching these episodes, I’m going to dive into The Victorian Farm and see what things were like back then.



Update: I’m still going to have the Dessert Diva as a guest together with Natalie. The two will be baking pies. I intended it to be a summer blog, but I have been so, so, so busy that it’s now going to preview holiday recipes.



Also, Carnal Gift will be live any day now on Amazon.com. It’s been edited and uploaded, and now I’m just waiting. This will be a very special release for me because finally — finally! — the book will be available as I wrote it, instead of missing 100 key pages.



It has taken a lot of time and effort to get the books online. Fortunately, my son Benjamin has handled a lot of it. I’ve been working on Defiant and trying very hard to stay off the Internet, which has a huge impact on my ability to focus and get work done. So if I’m not around, please forgive me. I need to write!



I’ll be back soon to announce the winner of the e-book copy of Sweet Release.



Thanks for being so patient! I owe it to you to put my time into my books and to make them the best they can be.



Sunday, March 20, 2011

Thanks to my awesome readers!

A bloom from last year’s garden



Congratulations to Julie James for winning last night’s heated race in Round 2, Set 3 of the DA BWAHA, which I believe stands for Dear Author Bitchery Writing Award for Hella Authors. Awesome name.

I just wanted to thank all of you who voted and posted and tweeted and corralled other readers, your friends, your family, strangers in the subway on behalf of Naked Edge. We lost by 280 votes — a respectable amount given how many votes were cast in that race. It’s all in good fun, and it was great to be included this year.

Julie James is one classy woman. She’s giving away two copies of Naked Edge on her Facebook fan page today. As far as I know, she and I fought our way through that bracket with zero trash-talking.

I have to say some of your tweets were hilarious! As I said in a Facebook post, I have the most awesome readers. I just adore you all.

When I wasn’t hitting the “refresh” button yesterday, tweeting or posting on Facebook, I was outside with Benjamin getting our early garden planted. I really believe in the concept of the victory garden or urban homesteading, whatever you want to call it. So we always have a vegetable garden, and we’re become better urban farmers.

Yesterday we planted: onion sets, spinach, arugula, radishes, carrots, romaine lettuce and Swiss chard. Those are all basics for us. I’ve got broccoli ready to go in, as well. Then when we’re past any frost danger — mid-April to early May — I’ll get dinosaur kale, cucumbers, tomatoes, green beans, and a few kinds of squash planted (acorn, zucchini, summer squash and delicata). And we’ll be ready for summer.

Last year, I ate broccoli, green beans and chard out of our garden until fall. In fact, I had fresh broccoli through the first week of November. That was nuts! Of course, other people had to take care of the garden last year because of my neck surgery. But this year should be better, though I have been having some problems again and may be seeing the surgeon soon.

We also got our roses pruned. Those of you who’ve been following me for a while know we have a big rose garden. Benjy got it all pruned and ready for spring. I was afraid the bushes would have died back to the ground due to our extreme low temps this past winter, but most seemed to have pull through just fine. The miracles of mulching.

Benjy leaves for the second half of his spring semester today. It’s always terribly hard for me to make that drive to the airport and watch him walk away. He doesn’t like leaving either, but that’s part of him growing up. Empty nest just sucks.

But I wanted to pop in early and thank you all and wish you a peaceful, lovely Sunday!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Meanwhile down on the urban farm...


See that little peek of red amid the green vines? That’s our first ripe tomato of the season.

There ought to be a celebration for that day. There’s nothing like a tomato picked ripe from a vine in your own garden. Tomatoes taste like summer itself, and I can’t wait to devour this one.

High summer is here, and the greens that were so plentiful in early June — arugula, romaine, spinach — are history. They’ll be back in the fall, or sooner if I replant. But they don’t like hot 90+ degree days, which is all we’ve been having lately.

I planted the greens, together with swiss chard and broccoli, while it was still snowing back in April. Brassicas and greens generally tolerate cold fairly well, producing when it’s still cool and surviving all but a truly hard frost. So, we’ve enjoyed some broccoli and swiss chard, and both are still producing despite the heat.

Broccoli and greens

One must wait, of course, to plant anything sensitive to cold, like tomatoes. So our tomatoes, green beans, peppers, corn and squash got planted in late May. Tomatoes do really well in Colorado, provided they don’t get beaten into the ground by hail — and you remember to water them. Corn, too, does well, and borrowing from Native tradition, we planted squash with them. Well, and cantaloupe...

Tomatoes and corn plants, together with a glimpse of squash, and green beans

Last year, we got a ton of green beans from two relatively small rows, so this year we planted a bit more than that, along with cucumbers, brussel sprouts and hot peppers. Mmmm...

I swear, I could live off arugula, green beans, radishes, tomatoes and broccoli — and last year I did just that for a time. So hopefully we planted enough this summer to keep me and my mum fed. She'll be staying with me after my operation and taking over the garden while I read and write and rest.



Green beans, hot peppers, brussel sprouts and cabbage plants

I believe strongly in the concept of economic independence. Economic ups and downs have much less impact on a family that is able to supply a lot of its own food and labor — stuff like plumbing, repairs, car maintenance. Knowing how to do these things one's self is important, I think. Canning, sewing, darning socks, knitting — skills our grandparents had but which were forgotten in a single generation.



Looking down the corn rows with hidden squash plants

People have proven that the average family can grow most of its own food in the average yard, and that’s our goal. These garden beds take up only the small south-facing side of the house. The front and backyard, though home to three big trees, also have lots of room where there’s full sun or partial shade. If we were to plant crops everywhere we have plantable space, and include a few fruit trees, a couple of beehives and backyard hens, we’d have most of the food that we need, apart from meat. And if we hunted or went mostly vegetarian... Well, you get the picture.

We won’t be able to accomplish all of this while I’m working full time and writing, of course. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day. As it is, I work from the time I get up until dark either at the paper or in the garden — and then whatever time is left goes to having fun and/or writing.

I should add that all of this is organic. We don’t use chemical fertilizers, but rather compost. And we don't use pesticides of any kind, which is why you all heard screaming coming from Colorado this weekend. Washed some romaine and earwigs came running out.... Man, did I shriek!

I hate bugs... except for pretty ones like ladybugs and butterflies and dragon flies.

In the flower garden, the moment really belongs to rose mallow, a precious flower that bees love. It grows about waist height and is covered with small pink flowers. I love pink, let me say.

Rose mallow. Note the bumble bee in the center. I was particularly
happy to snap a photo of this fat, fuzzy fellow.

My roses are all rebooting. The big spring bloom is over, and now they've been deadheaded and will make another round of buds soon. All of our rose bushes are repeat bloomers. What’s the point of having roses that bloom once? Boooring.

Unfortunately, four of our bushes seem to have caught something. It’s nothing they’ve had before, and I wonder if it’s from the cool weather and rain — a fungus of some sort. The leaves are dying and falling off, and it upsets me. I hope we can rescue them!

In other news: Just trying to get ready to be away from the paper for eight weeks, and trying to prepare my mind for surgery. I’m almost looking forward to it, actually. Two weeks from this past Tuesday.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Man-titty and gardening



First, the man-titty. I feel better now. How about you?

I'm busy writing this weekend — I threw out everything I had for Natalie’s story and went in a completely different direction — but I thought I could share this with you. It’s a bit of inspiration for the day. My muse and I both say, “Yummy!”

So what is this new direction, you ask? I don’t think I’m going to say anything yet, except that Zach MacBride is still a deputy U.S. Marshal and the story still begins in Cd. Juárez, Mexico, with Natalie being kidnapped off a bus full of journalists.

I spent yesterday thinking through this new direction on her story while spreading compost over our vegetable garden. And I have to say that being able to spread compost that my son and I made — through both thermophilic composting and vermiculture (i.e, worm composting) — was very exciting. I’m serious! With our little worm buddies, we turned all kinds of kitchen scraps, garden waste and coffee grounds into rich, black dirt.



Yes, this is the dirt in my garden. The lighter patch in the center is the unamended soil, while the darkest patch is the compost. The other areas show where I had raked it in to the topsoil.

I hope to plant spring greens today or tomorrow — if I can reach a lull in my writing when it isn’t snowing.

Last year, Benjy, my younger son and I, began the process of transforming our yard — or at least the part of it that isn’t a rose garden — into an urban homestead. Eventually, we plan to grow most of our own fruits and veggies. We already have raspberry bushes, herbs and a huge vegetable garden area. Last year we used only 1/3 of it and grew green beans, broccoli, zucchini, butternut squash, cucumbers and tomatoes, together with herbs. This year we're going to cultivate 2/3 of it, adding more of the stuff we eat a lot of, but also adding the greens and kitchen veggies like carrots and radishes, as well as turnips, beets and chard.

We plan to add fruit trees soon, as well as chickens for fresh eggs and a beehive for honey. It's legal here to have hens and bees in your backyard, and we mean to take full advantage of that.

It's lots of work but it’s the best kind of work, far better than being in an office. And the reward is huge. Not only do we save money on food, but we don’t have to worry about getting e-coli or pesticides with our dinner.

Do any of you garden? Are there any other urban homesteaders out there?

Coming on Monday: Hop over to Cecile's blog for an interview with the I-Team heroes. Reece, Julian, Marc and Gabe will all be there, and Julian has some news to share with the guys.