Earth, Art, and Therapy or Was it Just a Parade?

The last few weeks have been a bit of an emotional roller coaster. The high point was definitely the Ojai Fourth of July parade. I dropped the pebble of the idea one morning at the farm a few months back. What about a float for the Farmer and the Cook? Turns out Steve had never participated in the parade when tends toward the highly traditional and patriotic in the best small town way. Lots of equestrians, cheerleaders, cub scouts, civic groups and churches. We'd sat through it a few times over our summers here. The locals put out chairs along Main Street to claim their viewing space up to a week ahead, which speaks to local pride, not boredom, since there are tons of things to do here.
Johanna   was my partner in organizing this feat, since before this parade gambit I was never sure exactly how to read Steve on such things. Would this insult his semi-hippie soul? Be too silly for his elder organic statesmanlike role in the general community? Take too much time from surfing? Johanna broached the question to him AND agreed to be our "Parade Marshall" in the four double-sided pages of paperwork we had to fill out to be in the parade. Steve coughed up the $35 fee to be a "commercial/auto" entry, borrowed a hay wagon and got Greg to wire the truck for sound. Then the fun really began.

This parade prep business was the most fun I'd ever had, beginning with the giant paper mache heirloom tomato.
Everyone picked their totem and created their costume. I was delighted to provide studio space for what turned out to be a rollicking good time of creating fun and beauty out of nothing.
Steve transformed himself into "King Karat," (the carrot is the 'gold standard' of the organic farmer, Steve tells us often) Olivia (the inspired cook of the Farmer and the Cook) felt called by the spirit of Breakfast Radish. We had butterflies galore, including the Momma Butterfly, Nora, and Strawberry Jon, her consort. Several peppers, farmers, a flower and Bridget of Broccoli fame. We had signs and music, a re-write of "Woodstock" by our own band, Tofu Fighters. We regaled the delighted spectators  from speakers mounted on a hay wagon pulled by the farm truck driven by Michael, John's brother and his wife, Cindy (smiling in the truck cab picture). I made a lettuce hat, homage to the sparkly, leafy stuff, which though in abundance at the time, is far from my favorite vegetable. I wore an apron, my nod to balance, I like to embrace both farming and cooking, after all.
This week I am preparing for an upcoming gig teaching a class called "Earth, Art and Therapy" when I re-read this in my notes: "One of my earliest memories was sitting in my backyard while my mom gardened, looking at the lettuce growing along the fence and wondering why it was all floppy and not  in a tight round ball like the stuff from the grocery store. As a three year old, I imagined someone at the store rolled it into a ball and wrapped it in cellophane." Who knew about varieties?
Over the past few years my mother's spirit has been urging me to remember her as a gardener and lover of all things growing instead of as a sick person suffering from cancer. The image of her gaunt and pale with a scarf tied over her chemo ravaged head has had a lot of staying power in me. It is equally true, though, that she grew flowers and vegetables all summer long and had pots full of cactus and rubber plants indoors. She has been telling me for many years to focus on the beauty, the pleasure and the fun of life, not to avoid the pain, just notice it, hear what it has to say,  then make the course correction it is inevitably suggesting and focus on the light and the love that always flows once the needed change is made. Her illness was just one detail of who she was, not the most significant one. Everyone, but especially the women, who incarnate and suffer with such illnesses are bringing us a message of the need for a change. Let's listen up more closely so we can get that flow of love and joy that's right behind the change.
So here's what she's saying today: She and most women were gardening in the 1950's when I grew up. Sure, they also dabbled in T.V. dinners and other food fads that eroded our health and our families, everybody was curious about something new. But in the big picture, the gap from then to now is a short one. It's a very short time in which to make the course correction back to local, fresh and now consciously organic food. Celebrate that! People didn't always eat junk food, it's a blip on the evolutionary screen and we are correcting it all around the world. When we represent for what we love, it touches the love inside of others and activates it. Works way better than scare tactics to create change.
I credit my son-in-law Jeff with a quote that really woke me up: "If you want to save the world, throw a better party!" And by better, I mean fun, fresh, local and pretty darn silly. Oh, and did I mention our float won first prize in our category? We're already planning an even better party for next year and everybody is invited. Our complete photo albums from the parade are online. Thanks, Mom!

Flowers and the Farm

A few weeks ago Jessica, another farm volunteer, pointed out that all the flower pickers that morning were men, all men with very long hair twisted up off their necks in the heat. They were gathering long stems of deep purple and white larkspur for the CSA members. There was a lot of discussion among them about what constituted an acceptable stem and gentle shaking to be sure the loose petals fell in the field. It seemed like a peace and beauty class going on in the field.
Sitting here today at the Farmer & the Cook I notice the little bouquets of zinnias from the farm gracing every table. I helped to harvest them on Thursday and at first I was a little judgmental, I have to admit. After all, the zinnias are tiny and modest compared with the stately larkspur and regal sunflowers of weeks past. At first four little blooms in a yellow organic twist tie seems a little, well, little. The thought passed however as I cut the stems and stripped the leaves being careful to cut above the next buds which will flower by next week. Suddenly I became aware of the voices of the flowers calling "pick me! pick me!"  A sense of absolute joy and a rush of emotion at a level just below consciousness flooded me. What? I've always been a little bit reluctant to cut flowers and take them indoors, feeling it's unfair to them. "No! This is our purpose, our reason, our vocation, if you will," they assured me.
Bridget, John and I were harvesting and I began to notice the ballet between John and me. I snipped the stem and handed the bunch to him; he stripped the lower leaves and gently tied them below the bloom and near the end of the stem. When Brian, Bridget's boyfriend joined us, lured by the zinnias' subtle mojo I'd like to think, we were two couples engaged in a flower exchange performance that felt so sweet and loving. The flowers laughed at me and seemed thrilled that I figured out their game to enhance our life. Was it an accident that of all the volunteers two couples were picking the flowers together?
All week the zinnias have graced my kitchen table. The four stems fit easily into a skinny caper jar. They exude a kind of happiness that is infectious and I have to thank them for all the lessons of how to give freely, enthusiastically, fully and now. The flowers are a huge gift to the whole enterprise of the farm,  they have deepened my appreciation of every aspect of the work and remind me that the sustenance of the soul is as important as feeding the body.

Growing Power: An Urban Farm & Community Center

Even though this is supposed to be a blog about my experiences in Ojai, I recently had an earth-bound experience here in the Midwest and of course, this distinction of place is just silly, because the earth is where I am, whatever the latitude and longitude but my poor little brain likes  categories. Last Saturday, my friend Dorie and I drive to Milwaukee to visit Growing Power, a well-known urban farm and community food center. Founder Will Allen has been featured in the popular film Fresh. An ex-NBA player and son of Southern farmers, Will has created an amazing venue that is on the verge of a huge vertical expansion in situ that will include, among many other cool projects, a culinary school. Currently he grows tons of greens and farms fish 365 days/year in a series of greenhouses that were originally the site of Milwaukee's commerical flower industry in the 1930's. With a staff of 35 and over 200 volunteers, Growing Power produces food for schools and restaurants, a local food coop and farmers' markets. They also have goats, chickens, turkeys and mushrooms!

I especially loved the aquaponics. Tilapia are being farmed in a four foot deep plastic-lined trench, which capitalizes on the geothermal effect of the soil, below trays of watercress, a popular microgreen destined for area restaurants. Water is pumped through the watercress for filtering and back to the fish while also fertilizing the watercress with the fish waste. Worm casings from the vermiculture (worm composting) are also fed to the fish. At Growing Power they take some of the partially composted wood chips and food waste material and give the worms a crack at it which they work through much faster that through fresh foodwaste which is what I have been accustomed to feeding them. Then the worms very quickly produce the rich fertilizer-grade compost that can be diluted for a soil additive or sold in bags as a powerful fertilizer. This answered my question about what was really so great about worms since mine took a very long time to digest what I gave them. The tilapia ponds and watercress operation runs the length of the greenhouse and are expected to produce 30,000 fish!