Worm News

The cute guy and I visit the humane society regularly. We flirt with cats and cruise the dogs. And then we go home. To the worms.

Worms are the best pets. They don't leave hair on the couch or need to go on walks. There's no barking, no grooming. And their poop is succinctly contained. It's even good for the garden I've read.

Not that I've put worm poop on the garden. I used the liquid run off last year. In the beginning it was a green revolution. I saturated the lawn with my version of worm tea. And then the roses began to turn yellow, drop leaves. The pepper plants began to perish. Which I thought meant everything needed more of the undiluted, unaerated worm bin runoff I called tea. (Yes, I should have read something first. Anything. But I was excited.) The yard is still recovering and the liquid from the bin now goes down the drain.

But the worms, the worms are flourishing. I've done nothing but feed them our produce skins and trimmings since they arrived a year and a half ago. This summer they ate everything from the kitchen plus the back yard bad apples.

When I need an animal or farm fix I dig in the worm bin. Not long ago I was in a recurring I want a plot of land funk and lazily raking through carrot tops in the bin. With the headlamp turned on high I flipped the shell of half a melon and nearly peed my pants. I was Faye Ray in the hands of King Kong. There were hundreds, it seemed like thousands, of worms knotted together beneath the rind. I had no idea.

Did I say they were big? They were really big.

I snapped the lid back on the bin; checked it twice. And gave getting a cat some more consideration.

The cute guy suggested a second worm bin. I'm liking his idea.

No Impact Man - The Movie

It's been a long time since I've cried at a movie. But that's exactly what I did last night watching the new documentary, No Impact Man. Not crying really but weeping, appreciation and laughing tears. I fell in love with the whole family it's about; Colin, Michelle and Isabella.

While I was aware from news bites that there was a guy in NY that had given up everything (I never considered what he was gaining) I didn't read his blog or follow. Then Beth at Fake Plastic Fish had an interview post with the guy, Colin, which had me take notice. After that the Green Phone Booth posted a review of his book. I was interested.

I went to the movie with a friend who has never carried a canvas bag; not unlike Colin's wife, Michelle. While I learned new low impact tips from him I was his choir in the audience. More importantly, Michelle related to the audience that had yet to hear the siren's green call. Her distaste for worms, choice words for bike riders; her melt down at giving up caffeine. She spoke from the beauticians chair getting her hair colored and from her air conditioned office at Business Week sucking on ice. And then she cooked her first dinner. We were all changed.

On the way out of the theater my friend asked, "Do you think the growers would refill the plastic shells I buy berries in if I return them to the store?"

I tried not to cry again.

The big ahhh factor is their daughter, Isabella. She was a mimicking sprite; as happy in the dark as she was in the garden.

Admittedly I was biased toward the documentary from the beginning as Colin shopped for local food with flour sack towels and cloth produce bags. He spoke all my favorite things about sourcing food from near by. But he didn't overload our plates with food. He moved on to transportation, household cleaning products, cosmetics; the source of our power. He polished himself up for politics, volunteering, for talking to audiences. And while people were watching him, he was listening to the people doing the watching. Which is where he earned my final respect. He didn't flinch at the truth of criticism but neither did he give up in the face of it.

If you see this movie ( here's the schedule) I'd love to know how it impacts you. And take a friend. You'll want to talk about it at the end.

(Also posted at the Blogging Bookworm.)

Market Containers

It's been a long time since we generated more than a small bag of trash each week. The worms have multiplied and are even eating fallen apples from the neighbors arching tree. We recycle, reuse. We use cloth produce bags instead of plastic. It all makes a difference. And tonight I learned a new trick.

It was so obvious my mouth fell open and I stared.

I was buying blueberries , pouring them into a mesh bag and worrying about them getting squashed on the ride home. Staining the bag. Actually I didn't care if the bag got stained. But the guy beside me, he is neatly settling blueberries into a tupperware container. He handed the empty tub back to the vendor. "Thank you", he smiled, putting the lid on his tupperware.

I kept staring as he floated away.

I've carried a big red bowl to the grocery store for roasted chicken and I carry canvas sacks everywhere but I never thought to have a few containers with lids for the fragile items at the farmers' market.

It honestly would be no extra effort. I keep a canvas sack in the kitchen to catch the cotton produce bags, yogurt jars, egg cartons and strawberry baskets we use and return at the market. They're always ready. Having a couple containers with lids we return to the bag after each use - it would be easy.

It's so obvious. I'm embarrassed I didn't think of it.

Any other obvious ways to get food home or reduce the trash that you use?

Carrot Water

I've been watering the dogwood tree with carrot water. And potato water, and beet water, spinach water and radish water. Apparently it loves it. This is the first year the tree is full with blossoms and I'm crazy about them.

Northern California is not prime dogwood country although I know where a dozen live in the neighborhoods. Each one with museum quality blossoms and likely without my prescription of vegetable water.

I'm playing at saving water. It's not mandatory yet, but why wait. Instead of running an endless stream to clean root vegetables, I soak them. And all that organic dirt they have stuck to their skins goes to water the dogwood or the kumquat tree, the mint or my favorite iceland rose.

I used to delight in buying carrot nubs in plastic bags that required no washing or a simple rinse. They were so convenient I overlooked the fact that they resembled carrots more than tasted like carrots.

Now I buy them plastic free, just pulled with tops attached and dropped in a canvas bag, dirt and all. The worms eat the tops, the trees soak in the dirty water and we eat them like candy. Nothing wasted.

Scientifically the vegetable water probably contributes not a darn thing to the garden but the tending that happens in the process - it's good food for us all. And it saves water.

Time Out

Saturday morning at Boulettes Larder.
For the first time this year it has felt like winter and I'm taking a break, except from Haiku Fridays, to read books, poetry, take pictures, go to bed early and reevaluate what's important.

Local food is still important. The farmers' markets have been stormy and I wouldn't miss them for anything. I ate a mandarinkuat for the first time and it was inauguration day 2009 good! If you can find one don't hesitate to make it yours.

Reducing plastic continues to occupy my mind too. I've cancelled the daily delivery of the paper and opted for Sunday only. One plastic bag a week instead of six. And no more plastic produce bags! Nada, zip, zero. Three months ago I wouldn't have believed it possible.

The worm bin was a year old and they eat more than ever and still make noise. I love them.

The cute guy and I ate at a new restaurant where the waiter, unasked, told the table where the fish came from, "local". And how it was caught, "single line". I nearly kissed his hand and wanted everyone there to be our new best friends.

And every where I look I see simple beauty and great waste but I need a time out from the words. I need to clean my house, go for a walk, plant seeds, talk to people, bake bread.

It will be spring with more words soon enough.

In the meantime, be well and know about the fish you eat.

Put It In The Landfill

The Muse has begun collecting cardboard off the street during our after dinner walks. She carts it like a Tiffany's bag through town. "What's it for," I asked the first time.

"Cardboard mulching," she said. "The kids love it."

The next time I offered to help.

The Muse works with third graders in the garden and helps tend their worm bin. She's one of my sources for what's going on in schools. Her daughter takes lunch in a cloth bag, with no plastic packaging and only cloth napkins. And she's not alone in doing so.

The Muse's school has a green team to set goals for sustainability in the near and far term. As part of the team she visited other schools, one with a living roof and full time employee responsible for implementing sustainability goals. Another, this one a public school, had a first class award winning garden. Each school was an inspiration.

But this bit of school news came from one of the Cute Guy's friends. Her daughter came home from a school visit to the Recycling Center and told her mother, "That's not garbage, it's landfill."

In relaying the story her mother said, "Now we have a recycling bin and a landfill bin. It makes a difference to how we think about what we're throwing away."

I'm not sure who should get the award for that one; the people at the Recycling Center, the teacher, the student or the mother for listening. But I do know I now call the garbage beneath our sink, landfill and not garbage too.

What's going on in the schools you're familiar with?

Or what bit of sage sustainability information have you learned recently from a teacher in a small body disguise?

Worm News

I've learned some new facts about the worm bin; decomposing food creates liquid matter and worms can drown it.

Saturday morning I found some of my worms belly up in the bin. And the box was eerily quiet. My ear was an inch from the dirt before I detected the worm effervescence I've come to expect.

I started draining water into a water bottle I had in the car so I wouldn't have to go upstairs. Filled it. Grabbed the second water bottle in the car. Filled it too. (I put the water bottles in the dish washer later but let's not mention any of this to the cute guy). In the end there was so much water I finally did have to get the bucket.

The good news from the beginning however, was all the new threadlike worms that were on every carrot green, avocado peel and little green apple on the top layers of the bin. They'd lived through the rising water.

And because I'm a new worm farmer that hasn't read more than a quick list of worm bin facts it took me a few hours to come up with the idea, actually it felt more like divine intervention with a wormy voice, of adding dry dirt to the bin to help absorb the moisture.

I lifted layers of produce scraps in various stages of decomposition with a hand held garden fork. I dug into the muddy parts too and introduced the new dirt. And there I found worms. Mature pinkish red worms, worming around. I wanted to kiss them.

I'm keeping a closer ear on them for awhile but they're doing fine. Thank goodness.

Worm News

I have worms. Lots of worms.

So many worms that when I lift the lid to the bin I can hear them, which seems impossible. They sound like ginger ale, but slower. What am I hearing? Their eating? Their slithering between decomposing carrot greens and strawberry tops?

I was told the worms would multiply, have rice kernel babies that would turn to remnant looking strands of dental floss. And that in the darkness and depths of mango mulch and kitchen scraps they would transform to red wiggler worm adults. But I was skeptical.

Not without good reason though as the worms I was given were anemic, pathetic things. For six weeks I was hard pressed to find one in the bin. The day I found two I jumped. But the woman at the nursery was right, the worms multiplied and now there is a city.

There are still tiny black bugs with wings to be swatted away but their numbers have decreased. Part of which I attribute to the spiders that have also taken up residency. And partly that I cut back the amount of food after diagnosing my enthusiastic deposits to the bin were rotting more quickly than the worms could consume it. It was a most excellent bug habitat.

I've collected worm tea several times the last couple of months by pouring water over all the contents of the bin, waiting a few minutes for it to leech through the layers of compost, mulch and worms and then reclaiming the nitrogen rich brown water from the spigot at the bottom of the bin. It feels like pure treasure.

The roses are drunk on the tea, the camellia has grown fat from it and the mint in it's too small terracotta pot is completely out of control such that I've stopped giving it tea all together. The gnarly old rosemary that refused water for years is a sponge for the tea. It's almost young again, which is as impossible as the sound of the worms.

Impossible as the fact that I used to waste my good kitchen trimmings in the trash instead of feeding them to the busy worms in the garage.

Worm News

The worms are having babies. A lot of them. I saw them clustered in groups on the ridge at the top of the bin. I'm so relieved.

For the last six weeks it seemed as if the primary life in the bin were silver winged bugs whose main purpose was to fly in my face. They're still there but tonight I was happy to see a black spider has also moved in.

The last time I fed the worms it was lettuce gone to seed and pulled from the backyard pots. In a display of tenacity however, the plants refuse to decompose. Two of the plants have lifted their heads, roots completely bare, to push on the dark roof. They startled me more than the flying bugs.

I've decreased feeding in a novice attempt of controlling the bugs and have taken up making contraband drops at the community garden compost piles. I doubt anyone who cultivates chard or sugar peas is going to ask me to take my compost and leave. But I've yet to find a gardener to ask if my contribution is truly appreciated.

For now, I consider the deposits random acts of greeness.

I'm A Bookworm

I am so excited. Green Bean is hosting a book party for the month of May and has invited everyone to read a 'green' book and write about it.

I've made a stack of all my 'green' books so I could write about all of them.

I'm starting the month reading Uncertain Peril - Generic Engineering and the Future of Seeds by Claire Hope Cummings who I saw speak last night in Pt. Reyes with Percy Cummings, a Canadian farmer who won a court case against Monsanto.

I was not going to buy this book. The title was off putting. Good for a scientist, I reasoned, but not a book I would enjoy. I was wrong. I am loving this book.

And a slew of writers I respect or adore either blurbed the book or are acknowledged in the back, including the biggest surprise, Anne Lamott, who I'm a crazy fan of.

Here's my stack of already read (or in some cases not read) green reads in no particular order but how they stacked up --

Undoing the Silence - Six Tools for Social Change Writing by Louise Dunlap

I haven't read this book but I did a workshop with her that was quite moving. I intend on reading the book. Someday.

Foodfight - The Citizen's Guide to a Food and Farm Bill by Daniel Imhoff

Reading this was like driving in another state without a map. Not everything was unfamiliar but I had no idea where in the hell I was. What I learned is that the Farm Bill is impossible to put into a box. Or on a map.

Tassajara Cooking by Edward Espe Brown

This book is from 1973, the days when books only had one title and was given to me by a friend untouched after 35 years on her shelf. The recipes are honest, simple, forgiving.

In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan

My expectations were too high to really appreciate this book.

real food - What to Eat and Why by Nina Planck

I saw her speak and bought the book. She was lovely, inspiring, smart. I've never cracked the book.

What to Eat by Marion Nestle

I love Marion Nestle because she has such big compassion for everyone that eats. And I love hearing her voice on the radio. I had great enthusiasm to read this cover to cover but only made it to the section on milk.

Eating Fossil Fuels - Oil, Food and the Coming Crisis in Agriculture by Dale Allen Pfeiffer

Dire title and I've never opened the book. The goods news - it's a small book.

Animal Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver

I've read everything by Ms. Kingsolver except the book about miners in Arizona or something. This book propelled and convinced me to eat local to cut my carbon bite. It's a keeper and the Friday night pizza recipe is delicious.

California Home Cooking by Michelle Anna Jordan

This was a surprise gift during the September Eat Local Challenge. The book is dog eared, familiar and completely without pretension. Just seeing it in the kitchen makes me happy.

Omnivores Dilemma by Michael Pollan

This was the first so called green book I read. And it changed my life in terms of how I eat and think about food in the world. And consequently how I think about everything else in the world too.

An Unreasonable Woman - A True Story of Shrimpers Politicos Polluters and the Fight for Seasdrift, Texas by Diane Wilson

I loved this book. The Cute Guy loved this book. I love Diane Wilson.

Deep Economy - The Wealth of Communities and the Durable Future by Bill McKibben

I finished this book three days ago. After the middle section where the author ate local for a year in Vermont I was reluctant to keep going but always enjoyed what I read once I got the book open. Bill McKibben is as warm hearted as he is intelligent.

Earth Democracy - Justice, Sustainability and Peace by Vandana Shiva

I saw Vandana speak last week in San Francisco. I was on fire after hearing her and ready to follow her around the world. I bought the book and have no connection with it whatsoever. I'm so disappointed because I know she has a lot to say.

Plenty - One Man, One Woman and A Raucous Year of Eating Locally by Alisa Smith and J.B. Mackinnon

The authors are present day pioneers not to mention a bit kooky and I routed for them with with every turn of the page. It's with fondness that I remember thier dresser drawer full with potatoes and the bugs they studiously picked from locally found flour.

If you aren't participating in the bookworm party at Green Beans but reading something green I'd love to know about it. I'm always on the look out for a good read.

And now I've got to get back to my book.

Haiku Friday

Harvesting worm tea

in a plastic water jug,

gnats fly in my face.

No Trash

It happened again last week. For the second time. And each time it has taken us by surprise. There wasn't any garbage in the outside can come time to take it down for Lance, the garbage man.

There was a small bag of trash under the kitchen sink, but not enough to go out and certainly too little to make a trip to the curb.

We saw it coming with the decrease in food packaging. We even invited it by getting worms. We've always recycled the ordinary stuff but now we buy yogurt and milk in crocks and bottles that get returned and reused. We take back egg cartons and fruit baskets to the vendors at the market. We rarely eat take out, the packaging of which used to add bulk to our weekly waste.

But still the no trash has taken us by surprise.

Now I'm working on alternatives to plastic produce bags, even though we reuse them constantly. I bought bio bags. The first one ripped getting it off the roll. The second one was more cooperative.

I'm considering cotton mesh bags after reading about them at Pondering the Myriad Things. I even saw them today at the Good Earth but at $3.99 each I hesitated and checked the price online. There wasn't any savings.

I trust we'll gradually distinguish plastic bags in a variety of ways with some combination of the above and ways I've not yet discovered.

And then one day I'll realize we've succeeded and be surprised again.

Berkeley Farmers' Market

Saturday I visited my friend, the demographer, in Berkeley. We went to a movement class down the street from her loft, because that's what you do in Berkeley, and then we went to the farmers' market. Because that's what I do wherever I am.

At the farmers' market I filled my pockets with the best kumquats I've had all year, carried away a pound of Santa Rosa pecans and a dozen brown eggs. And after sampling Bariana balsamic vinegar I came home with a bottle of that too.

I picked up potatoes for dinner from a central valley farmer, which weren't as tasty as the Petaluma potatoes I've gotten used to. Although how I could tell is debatable as the aloo gobi I'd put them in suffered from way too much fenugreek. (So much for following a recipe!)

The demographer and I drank Indian chai in the sun listening to a bluesy trio. Small children danced.

On the way out I chose a brown bag for home recycling from the box of bags that sits in the middle of the market for the taking.

All of which was enjoyable but the two best things about the market weren't its food.

The first was we left our cars at a car wash run by Options Recovery Services and walked the few blocks to the market. Only if you've experienced parking for this market will you fully appreciate that statement - that we left our cars there. No endless circling for a parking spot. Even better than the kumquats.

And the men at the car wash made our cars shine. I would have paid the $15 tax deductible donation just to park there or hang out for a while. The parking lot was a carnival of buckets, hoses, soap suds, grateful guys and good will. The clean car was a bonus.

Nearly as good was the group at the market creating buzz and selling subsidized worm bins. Enthusiastic, young guys with earrings talking up vermicomposting to a constant parade of marketers. People were peering into bins, kneeling down and picking up worms, asking questions. Taking away pamphlets.

As much as I love the farmers' markets for the local and sustainable food, the commerce and community that springs up around them is a big part of the story.

Worm News

The Valentine worms arrived a week ago Saturday and to be honest, they didn't look like much.

I expected a pound of worms to be the size of a bag of sugar. Instead the woman at the nursery handed me a paper container the size of Chinese hot and sour soup for two. That was only two thirds full of dirt.

I lifted the lid as soon as I got in the car expecting to see worms crawling around. What I saw was dirt. I shook the container. More dirt.

At home I emptied the contents out sparingly. The first guys looked dead. Towards the bottom was a clump of worms; skinny red and pink anemic looking worms. "Great," I thought, "I got leftovers."

But I spread them out, a few showing a hint of life and I covered them in a layer of dirt. Then I ran upstairs to get their food I'd been saving in the fridge.

I read to not initally feed them too much but it was hard to hold back. I layered an inch of carrot tops, broccoli trunks, leek skins and assorted greens on top of their mango mulch home. I patted it down, talked to them. "Okay," I said. "Time to eat." I smiled. Nothing.

Over the last week I've opened the lid a couple of times. There's increasingly less green matter, more brown. Sunday, day 8, I checked again and brought a fork to dig.

The box smelled, but not bad. There were a couple of ants and the top was covered with an airy white mold. A result of my enthusiasm more than anything. As the worms start eating, the smell, ants and mold will go away.

The worms were getting busy, tunnelling and working. They looked healthy, like they'd gained weight, added color.

I'm holding back on giving them more food while they get acclimated. But I'm continuing to save produce scraps. Everything that goes to the worms is not going in our trash and will end up as fertilizer in our garden.

And that is a sweetheart deal.

Worm Love

I never knew worms hibernated.

But apparently they do and that's why part of my Valentines, one pound of approximately 600 worms, is not here yet. They are still sleeping and new eggs won't hatch until it's warmer.

The cute guy was at his handsomest this Valentines. Usually we exchange, "heys", across the table but instead he surprised me with a full ensemble worm bin. It's beautiful.

I've moved the bin to three different places in the garage in anticipation of the arrival of my new pets. If the kitchen were larger I'd have them there.

The bin is made out of a plastic storage box, ventilation at the top and a screen added a few inches from the bottom. There's a shiny garden hose spigot on the side.

The worms will eat all the fruit and vegetable parts that we don't with a few acidic exceptions. This article claims they will even eat a pair of Levi's.

Then the worms poop like crazy (I'm assured it doesn't stink) and once a month I'm instructed to pour a gallon of water over them. The water leeches through the poop settling in the bottom of the bin below the worm screen. I turn on the faucet and wella, I'll have a gallon of liquid fertilizer. This is love.

I want to give worms to everyone I know. I want to set up community worm bins, bring a bin to work. We could set them up at bus stops, grocery stores, libraries. We could have them at every Starbuck's across the country. Wouldn't that be something!

I'll start with mine. As soon as those lovely worms get here.