Given the issues I have had with a certain family that shall remain nameless herein, I can’t tell you how happy I was to see the book Urban Homesteading: Heirloom Skills for Sustainable Living.  When author Rachel Kaplan contacted me I had high hopes, but when it comes to books that talk about homesteading and sustainable living I tend to be perhaps overly critical as these are areas that are particularly close to my heart.

In other words I was a little nervous about reading the book because I really wanted it to be good.  Thankfully, Kaplan and co-author K. Ruby Blume do not disappoint.

One of the strengths the pair draws upon is an ability to make the urban homesteading movement an intensely personal one, in which we are each able to define our own reasons for being where we are.  The truth is that the entire book is focused on personal exploration and the importance of finding our place on this planet.  Informative without teetering too close to being preachy, Kaplan and Blume cover everything from peak oil to biodiesel, growing it yourself, buying locally and even remembering how crucial it is to take care of our spirits as well as our bodies.

Urban Homesteading: Heirloom Skills for Sustainable Living is well written with photos, artwork and illustrations that are as enjoyable to look at as the book was to read.

To learn more, visit urban-homesteading.org.

Michael received a digital copy of this book for the purpose of review and was not otherwise compensated.

SEPTEMBER 10th, 7:30pm: This blog post refers to a day 10 years ago that you’re probably as sick of hearing about as I am of thinking about it. I hope you’ll read it; you might be surprised at what you see.

As I witnessed the events that unfolded right in front of my eyes on 9/11/01, something was taken from me. It took 10 years to realize that I don’t want it back.

Flag made from the clothing of rescue and relief workers on 9/11/01

The beautiful skyline by which my beloved New York City is known was scarred deeply. The city became a funeral pyre as the air hung heavy with the ashes that would be the only remains of thousands who never knew they wouldn’t kiss their loved ones again. Days spent volunteering were my way of staying busy enough so that I couldn’t think, but the weeks of walking past hundreds of “have you seen me” photos on every available surface offered me the chance to make up for the lost time.

Even as I left the city I love in my rear view and drove south a year later, I knew that I’d never be the same. The city would never be the same. None of us would. The city, the country and the world came together in the aftermath of the tragedies as we all stood stunned and silently mourned the unimaginable loss together.

I recently came to a realization that has given me the most profound and overwhelming sense of peace I have felt in many years. I’ll never be the same. I’ll never look at that skyline and see what I used to see. I’ll never pick up the phone and hear Mark say “hey boogerbear” on the other end.

I’ll never… be the same.

We live in this altered sense of reality in which everything is right with the world as long as nothing changes. If I wake up and there’s no coffee or I don’t have the right creamer to put in it, it’s wrong because it is not the same. If the store in which I shop substitutes another item for the one I would usually purchase, it’s not the same. If two tomato plants cross breed and I save the seed, the plants I grow next year will never be the same.

Change happens. It isn’t always good. And that’s okay.

There is someone very special in my life who loves me more than anything.  He has lived in the shadow of a ghost who would have kicked my ass for not seeing the amazing living, breathing love that’s right in front of my face. It’s been 10 years and I am finally letting go of that ghost in the hope that I gain a guardian angel.

The recent realization I mentioned earlier came after a particularly bad day, in the form of a dream in which I was standing at the new memorial on site of the 9/11 tragedy in NYC holding my friend Mark’s hand (Mark died that day). It was getting harder and harder to keep my grip when it dawned on me that I was the only one holding on.

I looked at him, clinging desperately to his hand and cried “I’ll never be the same!”

He held me in an embrace that was distinctly his and replied, “No, you won’t. You’ll be better.” and in that moment my heart lifted. 

Saying goodbye to the last remaining physical reminders of that day.

This will be the last time I write about the events of that day. A decade has passed and the statute of limitations on my grieving period has run out. I’m exorcising some demons and saying goodbye to friends, lovers and acquaintances, each of which were taken far too soon.  I’m moving forward and that requires me to let go of all of the past that I’ve held onto.

Today I release the hurt and the guilt. I walk away from the anger and the blame.

Today I’ll never be the same.

Today I’ll be better.

“Save a Place for Me” by Matthew West

The steady, heavy and much needed rain over the past two days is most welcome even though it does keep me from getting outside and playing in the dirt.  We haven’t had any rain for weeks and the garden suffered greatly as a result.

The rain is so heavy that it is pooling on the low areas of the homestead, such as the area immediately outside the back door.  Note the beautiful lavender plant that I potted out of the garden yesterday along with a small rosemary plant that managed to survive the summer  despite being planted in a desolate part of the homestead and largely left to its own devices.

With the rain forcing me to remain indoors I took it is as a sign that I should go ahead and make a big pot of vegetable stock. This isn’t quite as random as it might sound though, as I am constantly preparing to make stock.

Most people don’t even think about making vegetable stock, much less making it ahead of the need for it. After making homemade vegetable stock and freezing it though, we have the perfect base for a rich vegetable beef soup, vegetarian chili or just a tasty way to liven up plain white rice.

Vegetable Stock, the My Earth Garden Way

The way we make stock costs us pennies for  an entire batch. Everyone knows that we are avid composters, but sometimes you don’t need to send everything to the compost tumbler when you can still use it inside.

We keep a container in the freezer to hold all of the leftover random bits of vegetables that we all have from time to time. From the small bits of onion and peelings from carrots (if you peel them other than just a good wash and scrub) to the liquid remnants from that can of veggies that went into last night’s dinner, save all of those morsels in the freezer until you have enough to use as a base for flavoring a stock.

At My Earth Garden we use a juicer quite a lot. In addition to reusing the apple pulp like I did when I made apple bread recently, we also save all the vegetable pulp for making stock.  That means that it doesn’t take long to fill up the freezer stock container around here!

The ratio I usually start with is 2.5 : 1 water to vegetable matter.  As the liquid cooks down I add more as needed and will generally be left with about a gallon of stock after it has been strained.

What I add to the veggie stock depends entirely on what went into the freezer container to begin with. Most often there will be a couple of onions, garlic, some celery and a few herbs to round out the flavor. I rarely add salt when I am cooking the stock. It can always be added later, but can’t be removed.

After the stock has cooled completely, we pour it into ice trays and freeze. The frozen cubes can then be stored in large freezer bags and used as needed.

A quick web search shows the myriad wonders that you can accomplish in one hour. You could Stop Smoking! The cooks could make mozzarella cheese or even whip up a yummy Shabbat! The handy folk could build a decorative wall shelf or get a home inspection. The musically uncoordinated could Learn to Play Guitar.

There are so many things we can do in one hour that I could easily spend an hour listing them and still not even be close to telling you about all of them. Instead, I’m going to suggest taking the control back from those twenty-four thieves that steal from you every day.

In one hour, the sun produces 15 billion metric tons of energy.

Starting today, make a pact with yourself that for one hour a day, every day in the month of September you will do something specifically for yourself. It doesn’t have to be productive all the time, but I don’t advocate using your seven weekly hours to sit on the couch watching television or to sleep – at least not the entire hour every day. If that’s what you want to do though, do it with all you’ve got.

Start planning for it today. That gives you plenty of time to make it a reality. Two days worth of warning to those around you that you are making this time your own.

I encourage you to experiment with your hour. Maybe one week you could write for an hour every day. Another week you could read something entirely new. Another week you could spend one hour every day talking or otherwise communicating with your friends. Or volunteering, exercising, learning a new language or cross stitching. Work in your garden or hold your family.

That’s the September 1 Hour Challenge. 30 Days, 30 hours worth of time that is devoted completely to yourself.  This isn’t about being selfish, it’s about pausing long enough to recognize that if you don’t take care of yourself you can’t take care of anyone else.

Here’s to an amazing September!  Please comment to let us know that you’re taking the challenge and be sure to share this with your friends and loved ones.

In twenty days I will suddenly and magically become 39 years old. Around this time every year one might expect to receive the requisite what do you want for your birthday communiqués from friends, loved ones and acquaintances which always tends to result in the same response from me, year after year. This year will be different.

This year for my birthday I don’t want to receive a present, I want to be present – fully present – in every moment of every day. I want to touch and feel and taste and smell, to nurture and love, incense and inspire and to paraphrase my beloved Thoreau, not when I come to die discover that I had not lived.

I have never been the type who could see something and want or expect someone else to provide it for me.  There are things I would enjoy if I had them, certainly. I am just not able to see past my own able-bodied means for getting those things if they were really important. Even more important, I cannot allow myself to ask for things that I don’t need when there are people around me who need things they don’t have.

Out of curiosity this morning I took a look at my Amazon Wish List and enjoyed a nice laugh. The items contained in the list were mostly books and study materials of a spiritual nature along with a straight shaving razor set and a pressure canner.  I laughed because this isn’t a wish list at all; It is a bookmark list of items that I want to be able to locate quickly when circumstances and finances make it possible and/or important that the purchase be made.

I don’t deserve presents on my birthday. My birthday presence is all that I need.

The past few weeks have been, to use a phrase that my dear granny loved so much, enough to make the Pope want to cuss.  If it is possible for something to cause stress it has. Moments that should have been marked by joyous smiles and happy tears have been marred by ghosts of the past that don’t seem to be satisfied with just being remembered. As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for. If you want to learn patience you’re going to be given every opportunity.

I have started a new daily routine – a ritual if you will – to help me remain grounded, re-center myself and keep that unruly ego in check.  What kind of remarkable thing can do all of that?

A broom.

Every day I sweep.  I sweep the kitchen, sweep the laundry room and sweep in front of my own front door.  In those few moments of quiet where the only sound is the gentle swish swish of the bristles, the loving kindness meditation is the sole focus of my thoughts:

If anyone has hurt me or harmed me
knowingly or unknowingly
in thought, word or deed
I forgive them

I likewise ask forgiveness
if I have hurt anyone or harmed anyone
knowingly or unknowingly
in thought, word or deed

May I be happy
May I be peaceful
May I be free

May my friends be happy
May my friends be peaceful
May my friends be free

May my enemies be happy
May my enemies be peaceful
May my enemies be free

The entire process may take 10 minutes a day, but placing this new importance on a task that is generally not all that rewarding has quickly made an impact on my attitude and reminded me that sometimes the right thing to do is just to shut up and sweep.

…and the floors look amazing.

Ever felt like nothing you are doing is working?  As though everything you’ve touched is performing less than acceptably?  You feel like giving it all up, right?

It is a shitty way to feel, especially when it seems like you’re going it alone but there is a tiny flicker of light at the end of that tunnel- you’re not alone.  I’m there more often than I will ever admit again and because I have dealt with this feeling for much of my life I have a little advice for you.

When you feel like giving up? Don’t.

Don’t give way to the barrage of negative thoughts that come to mind when your pet project doesn’t work out or you have issues with your personal relationships.  Don’t give in to the overwhelming desire to shut it all down and chalk it up to a loss.  Just don’t.

I am a garden writer.  Last year my gardening pursuits failed terribly and I had nothing uplifting to talk about.  I felt like giving up but I didn’t.  This year I lost a lot of the seedlings I started, not to mention the personal issues from which none of us are immune.

Believe in yourself and in those around you enough to fight for what you believe in.  Understand that perfection does not exist (not in this lifetime, anyway) and that the only perfect plants, projects or people are those that you don’t give up on even when they are totally and completely imperfect.

When you feel like giving up, know that you are not alone and just don’t.

The AmpleHarvest.org Campaign announced this past weekend that it will be focusing its efforts for the immediate future in tornado ravaged Alabama.  Working in tandem with all five Alabama food banks as well as Master Gardeners throughout the area, the AmpleHarvest.org Campaign is working to help food pantries meet the increased need for those impacted by the tornadoes on April 27.  (If you have any difficulty receiving the .pdf attachment, it is also available at www.preview.pr.com/press-release/319840)

Please urge your friends and family in Alabama to visit www.AmpleHarvest.org/tornado to learn how they can help the devastated communities.

Lastly, we have posted a number of comments that have come from food banks nationwide and food pantries.  You can view them at www.AmpleHarvest.org/donate

Again, thank you for supporting the AmpleHarvest.org Campaign.

I can still remember my first Earth Day in 1989. I was a senior in high school, full of ideas and hope for what the future would hold. It was the year I first embraced vegetarianism, something that would be a part of my life for many years.  Truth is that when left entirely to my own devices I am naturally a vegetarian and rarely think of eating meat on my own.  But I digress…

Earth Day is one day out of every year.  It represents not what huge things we can accomplish in a 24 hour period, but what we could do if we each adopted small changes that we embraced year round.  If we all carpooled for took public transportation regularly, imagine the amount of fossil fuels we would avoid consuming. 

If we gave up paper towels, paper plates and other pointless disposable items that we take for granted, how many trees would we save?  How many tons of trash would be saved from the landfill?  Changing those things for just one day would make a small impact, but what if we changed something – even something that seemed minor and insignificant – for good?

That is my wish for you on this Earth Day 2011.  That you will find some small thing that you and your family can do for good and commit to turning that commitment into a lifestyle change.

Today was a beautiful day. A high of around 76 degrees, sunny and not a cloud to be found. It was definitely a chance to get out and to go visit mother. While she’s always around the house, sometimes its nice to go see her at her place.

Oh, not the woman that gave birth to me, I’m talking about Mother Nature.

All around in the seclusion of rural living there are places to go and visit with Mother. Take into consideration that you can open any window and experience her in the beautiful sky, a tree or plant, even the laughter of a child or the song of a bird.

Today’s excursion was to collect some wild blue phlox and hopefully to make it a permanent part of the landscape here on the homestead. Along the way I discovered a beauty that I had never seen before. It looks like a lotus, or a water lily. Almost completely green, petals that look like leaves, but with animal like markings on them. The only color out of the scale of greens, is a deep purple on the the center part (technical term omitted intentionally). All this on a road with a spillway and nothing but nature around.

Today, our gardens have a blue hue they were lacking, and the fragrance of some 40 blooms. A small touch of beauty for when I next visit mother at home.