Colors of a Live Earth Farm winter

February 7th, 2009

One of the things I try to be consciously thankful for on a regular basis is the local, organic produce that can be easily acquired while living on California’s central coast. I love vegetables, so it’s not hard to fully enjoy eating them, but I like to remind myself just how lucky I am to live in a place where I can get a remarkable variety of produce year-round.

For the last two years, I’ve bought into a cropshare program (or CSA: community supported agriculture), where I pay at the beginning of the season for my entire share, and then I get a box of vegetables delivered every week. My farm is called Live Earth Farm, and it’s pretty much the best farm ever (Shaleece will back me up on this). :) It’s located in Watsonville, and is just under 20 miles from my house, so it’s hard to get much more local than that. They deliver to several drop off points in Santa Cruz (and over the hill), so each week I walk three blocks to pick up my box of heaping vegetables. During the summer, the box comes with one or two baskets of strawberries every week, practically worth the cost of the box right there. It’s the best deal available in terms of price and quality, and it’s all organic. They are also the best vegetables and fruits I’ve ever tasted. Seriously.

So, their summer season lasts from April through November, and then you have the option of extending through the winter season, December through March. One might think that the winter season would be all cabbage and root vegetables, but you’d be surprised. There certainly is an abundance of cabbage (fortunately, I like cabbage), and a wide variety of root vegetables (carrots, parsnips, rutabaga, beets, etc.) that are wonderful roasted, but also lots of cooking greens, apples, brussels sprouts, onions, winter squash, romanesco, and so on. Despite being in the middle of January here, my box still comes packed full of richly colored, delectable edibles. My farm even cans their own tomatoes during the summer, and makes jam from their own apricots, so that we get jars of summer flavors during the winter.

I like having a farm that I can call “my farm.” I like being connected to the place that grows my food, to see pictures every week of what is growing, to hear stories of planting, and to have even had my hands in my farm’s soil (during their yearly harvest festival). I have neither the time nor the green thumb to grow my own food right now, so this is the next best thing. With the last winter box, Heidi was so taken with the beautiful colors that were stacked up on the countertop that we decided to take a few pictures. And so, I give you, the colors of a Live Earth Farm winter. :)

A New President

January 20th, 2009

This morning, I woke up, made myself a cup of tea, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV. This is not my usual routine; in fact, I rarely turn on the TV at any time of day, much less first thing in the morning. But today was an unique day, a day when Barack Obama was sworn in as 44th President of the United States of America. I have cared enough about politics to write letters to the president at least since I was ten (see below!). I have cared enough about politics to vote, for my entire life as a voting-age citizen. I have cared enough about politics to volunteer, to make phonecalls, to donate money, for at least the last five years. I have never cared enough about politics to watch an inauguration ceremony, until this year. I wish I could have been in D.C.

There are a lot of reasons why I was excited about today. Admittedly, I was ready for the kind of hope and energy that Obama brings to office - I think hope is a good thing, as is appealing to the best parts of people’s personalities. And I hope that Obama will find a way to heal our country and our place in the world. I hope that Obama will truly tackle climate change, health care, human rights, and all of those other issues that need addressing in addition to the economy. I think he really has a chance to do it, despite our country’s current understandable preoccupation with the economy. I wish him the best of luck.

But in addition to all of that, it really was remarkable to see the first African-American inaugurated as president. I thought I might see it in my lifetime, but certainly not this soon. I can’t imagine what it must be like for people who lived through the civil rights movement in the 1950s and 1960s.

Two quotes stood out for me, as I watched Obama give his speech. As a scientist, “We will restore science to its rightful place” was a particularly welcome phrase to hear. And as an American, I was moved by this: “This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed - why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.”

This morning, I drank tea, watched the inauguration, and cried when Obama was sworn into office. Tonight, I find myself anticipating hearing what his policy announcements will be tomorrow. What an amazing part of history to be a part of.

Below, just for the fun of it, is my first recorded (i.e., saved on my computer) letter to a politician. I was ten.


November 28, 1988
Vice-President Bush
Washington, D.C.

Dear Vice-President Bush,
Congratulations on winning the election!
I think to pay off the debts we owe without raising taxes, you could take part of the money, like 1/2 or 1/4, that is paying for research on weapons and use it to handle the deficit.

Why do you oil drill along the coast? It kills a lot of animals that live on our coast line and destroys habitats. One of these days we will run out of oil and nobody will know what to do. I think you should start doing more research on solar power and other things.

I think you should stop sending weapons to Nicaragua. You could keep signing peace treaties to destroy some of our weapons and slow down the arms race. I think it would be neat to have a world full of peace. Then we wouldn't have a lot of danger of some place being blown up. If we keep working our way to peace we will have a kinder and gentler nation just like you wanted!

Sincerely,

Cristie Boone
5th Grade

Final thoughts from Guatemala (August 13, 2008)

I want to remember the corn growing up the sides of mountains that look too steep to climb. I can't imagine what effort it must take to plant corn on such slopes, nor to harvest it. I can't imagine a life that makes such effort worth the return. I know that clearing forest to plant the corn worsens erosion and shrinks natural habitat, but the corn looks beautiful as it spills down the hillsides.


I want to remember the vibrancy of the Chichicastenango market, the colorful fabrics, the beautiful vegetables and fruits, and most of all the nearly hidden middle of the market where the local people cook and eat and shop and sell for themselves, not just the tourists. I had the best fried chicken of my life in the center of Chichi's Thursday market, and the following day a delicious traditional breakfast of eggs and beans. They came with chile powder and jalapeños as optional condiments, the chile powder described as "picante" (spicy), and the fresh sliced jalapeños described as "non picante" (not spicy). I want to remember the essential sound of Chichi's market - the clapping arising from so many women continuously making fresh corn tortillas by hand throughout the day. Fresh corn tortillas come with every meal here, as well they should.



I want to remember how many things are transported by carrying or by bicycle here. Giant loads of cloths or other street stand goods are bundled up into blankets, or large baskets in turn wrapped in blankets. With creative tying, the ends of the blankets are brought across the shoulders and chest, or sometimes the forehead, and then walked down the street. I don't know how much some of those bundles weighed, but I'm sure the weight they carry with their bodies would put our strength to shame. No ergonomic considerations here, no workers comp or sense that something might be too heavy or too hard to carry. It just gets done, because it has to, and frequently happens over steep hills that we Americans breathe heavily while walking up when we're not carrying anything.

I want to remember how frustrating it is to only be able to understand so much, and to say even less. My Spanish improved throughout the trip, but I would like to know more before returning to a Spanish speaking country. I am learning to formulate my questions, but am missing a lot of the language structure that I think would help. Living in California, it probably is about time I really tried to learn some Spanish.

I want to remember how beautiful the mountains and valleys and volcanoes of Guatemala are. The pine forests of the highlands, the jungle of the lowlands, and the pervasive farmlands each have their own personality and their own draw. The jungle in particular grows plants and animals in sizes and shapes I'm thoroughly not used to. Toucans with their giant beaks and tiny streamlined bodies, howler monkeys that sound like dying or injured animals at 3 o'clock in the morning, the gigantic larvae of something, the funny lizard guy that ran upright on two legs when startled, an insect that makes sounds like a sprinkler alternating with an electric wood saw...



I want to remember how to make traveling days part of the adventure, to be happy with a space on the bus even if it's only half a seat, and to be willing to just go with what happens because sometimes you just can't figure out what's going on. I want to remember that fruit should always be mouthwatering, that tortillas should always be hot off the griddle, that lemonade should always be fresh, and the milk for your coffee served steamed. I want to remember that taking a complete break from work is refreshing, invigorating, renewing, and healthy.

To adventures, journeys, and experiences...

Lessons and moments from Antigua and beyond (August 6, 2008)

(reposted from email earlier this summer)

Hi all! Been a bit of time since I've had enough internet access to write out a letter, but I have kept track of some moments to share. Enjoy. :)

Lessons and Moments from Livingston, Antigua, Pacaya volcano, Coban, Semuc Champey, and On the Road:

-- When life puts a Mayan woman with chile spiced mango in your path, buy it, and get it Guatemalan style, with lime and salt and chile powder and that other seasoning that's so good. Eat it, and try not to moan too loudly in public. Go back for "uno mas" (one more).

-- Sometimes when you buy a ticket for a tour, you get a seat on the bus. Sometimes you only get half a seat.

-- Seeing numerous Guatemalan men in drag dancing together in the street is both highly unexpected and entertaining.

-- I have now been about three feet away from molten rock on an active volcano. Just how thick is that cooled crust on the lava flow, again?

-- Boys no more than 10 years old are perfectly capable of riding horses, renting them to tourists, and guiding them up and down a volcano.

-- If arriving in Antigua in a downpour, wear sandals or waders, or your hiking boots are likely to take several days for the street juice to dry out. (Street? What street? I see a river!)

-- Do not stay at a hostel named "Jungle Party."

-- Sometimes having a whole fish in your soup is a good thing.

-- Not having water in your hostel for 12 hours straight is a bad thing.

-- Hot showers should be thoroughly and utterly appreciated whenever they're available.

-- Natural pools you can swim in on top of a natural limestone bridge are both stunningly beautiful and the perfect temperature. Climbing down a rope ladder to crawl behind a waterfall and along a raging river that is boiling back up after plunging underground several hundred feet is a little less serene than the swimming, but an unforgettable experience.

-- Fireflies!

-- "Free internet" means you can never get on it because the line's always too long.

-- I have now ridden on one bus with fried chicken, three buses with live chickens, and one true "chicken bus" (that we actually managed to find and it took us to the right place, and a fellow passenger made sure we got off!). The chicken buses are all old American school buses. The "luxury" buses are all old Greyhounds. All of the drivers are crazy.

-- On every bus ride, something happens that makes me realize I have no idea what's going on.

-- Sleeping in a treehouse is FUN.

-- If you are actually from Louisville, Kentucky, you pronounce it LOO-ih-vul, with a nearly non-existent "ih" sound, and swallowing the "vul."

-- When you order lemonade here, it's always fresh.

-- A small rip in your jeans can very quickly become large when you take a big step (this is mainly a problem when the rip is horizontal along the back and would make for a very short pair of shorts).

-- Bats are cool. Bat guano combined with cave muck all over the one remaining pair of pants is not so cool.

-- La grande cuchara es para frijoles, y la pequeña cuchara es para la crema (the big spoon is for the beans, and the little spoon is for the cream).

-- Construction, even that tossing very large rocks down a hillside towards the road, stops for nothing and no one. The bus simply waits for a period when only small rocks are tumbling down, and then floors it.

-- A 15 person van (minibus) holds at least 25 people.

I can't believe I'm coming home in less than a week!