Photo by WoodleyWonderWorks

Growing things isn’t brain surgery. After all, squirrels do it everyday and without – I might add – opposable thumbs. They hide acorns away for literally a rainy day and half the time they forget about it. The next thing you know, there stands a mighty oak that ends up housing and feeding God-knows-how-many squirrels over its lifetime. If a squirrel can plant an oak that sustains generations of squirrels, you can grow lettuce and potatoes for your household. Trust me on this.

Suburban and urban yards can handle quite a bit of home ag. The list is endless. Produce growers saw the writing on the wall along time ago and have been busy as bees creating smaller varieties of trees, heavier producing vegetables, even smaller scale chickens. Small yards (even containers) can grow dwarf and columnar fruit trees, berries, grapes, every vegetable you can think of, and even collect your own farm fresh eggs.

Home agriculture means you get to feed your family real food. You remember real food, right? It’s the stuff without the extra helping of poison on it – the stuff that still has its own genes. Well, grow some of that. You’re going to be so pleased with yourself.

As I’ve mentioned before, Northern California isn’t known for it’s snowpack. That said, we did have winter snow this year (yes, you read that right – snow) and freakishly low temps even for Nor Cal. I was a negligent gardener this fall and got my broccoli in on the late side (to say the least), so I worried about how it would fare through this extra cold Bay Area winter.

He lives to tell the tale. My young broccoli is hanging in there – see for yourself. He might even be flourishing. True to my bad gardening character this season, I ended up having to grab whatever I could find on the shelves at the nearest nursery. These dudes were literally the last broccoli starts on the nursery shelves. Although, I’ve been focusing on growing only heirlooms in my garden, I was happy to get what I could; in this case Green Comet.

Next to the Green Comet broccoli, I have two varieties of heirloom garlic growing. One is a softneck braising garlic called Polish White, and the other is a purple-striped hardneck called Chesnok Red. I’m dying to taste these guys fresh from the garden.

I can’t help but notice that my affection for my plants falls on just this side of obsession. In fact, the other day I caught one of our chiweenies, Coraline, digging in this garden bed. I tripped myself and fell while reaching for her neck.

Broccoli is an excellent source of vitamins and minerals no matter how it’s served; steamed, raw, in salad, or in a sauce. In fact, it has nearly the same about of vitamin C as oranges do and as much calcium as a glass of milk.

Anyway, if you haven’t grown broccoli, you need to do that.

Photo by joka2000

Photo by clif1066

I’ll admit, Northern California doesn’t see much in the way of snow (at least not in the lower elevations). But we are seeing Snowflakes (Leucojum aestivum) pop up all over the place right now. These are some of my favorite flowers in my yard. For some reason, I’m always surprised at how early they show up to the garden party – which is exactly what I need at this time of the year.

Don’t confuse Snowflakes with Snowdrops or Lily-of-the-Valley. We won’t see Snowdrops until the very late winter or early spring and Lily-of-the-Valley makes her debut in spring.

Photo by Izafineday

You’ve probably figured out that there are tremendous advantages to growing your own food, or you probably wouldn’t be at this site. But I’d like to revisit the undeniable benefits so that there’s no doubt left in your mind, that farming in your own backyard is the right idea.

Remember the Victory Gardens of WW I and WW II? They were planted to reduce the pressure on the public food supply brought on by the war effort. In 1943, over 20 million American Victory Gardens produced 8 million tons of food in this country – 41 % of all the produce consumed by this nation. That’s a lot of groceries. Modern homesteading in suburban and urban areas is an echo of those successful American gardens.

Today our social and economic climate is at a place where Americans can once again benefit from the bountiful of our historic past. There is a monstrous movement on the horizon that is just as appropriate as it is necessary. It’s time, once again, to take responsibility for not only what goes into our families’ bodies, but how it gets there.

Suburban farming is being accomplished successfully in backyards everywhere. And it’s being done with high yields on very little land. You can plan, plant, maintain, and gather your own food for pennies on the dollar for each meal harvested. You’ll not only receive the many health benefits of fresh food, but also enjoy working outdoors with the pride that comes from creating food with your own hands.

Plus, if the truth be told, I am a control freak. I got tired of relying entirely on external sources for our necessities and wanted to take back some control. Because I like healthy food and I like my family, I decided to start there.

Growing your own groceries is catching on all over the country and sales from seed catalogs are up; some say they’ve doubled. A weak economy and a global movement toward a healthier diet and sustainable planet make home produce farming not only timely, but appropriate.

A mere 20 years ago, farming was considered passé. What was once old fashioned has come back into its own. Could the timing be any better? The difference for this decade is that most of us don’t own what is traditionally considered “farm land” anymore. We live a suburban lifestyle.

Not to worry, since modern produce and fruit growers have created strategic ideas for getting high yields in compact spaces. These strategies let the average family, with average-sized yards; grow their own food throughout the seasons.

Food that is healthy, free of pesticides, herbicides and artificial fertilizers. Food from heirloom plants so rich with flavor, it’s proof-positive that grocery store quality has been missing the mark for years. This is food people feel good about feeding their families, because it’s fresh, safe, affordable, and because they grew it.

I’m creating my new vegetable beds via compost sandwiches this year. While I’m getting them put together a little later than I had hoped for – they are coming together. I still have plenty of months ahead before the serious spring rolls back around. I’m thrilled knowing that the compost sandwiches are going to call in the decomposers of the world through the cold months.

And I haven’t met a decomposer I didn’t like. Both microorganism and macroorganism construction crews are some of the most honest workers you’ll ever meet and they’ll take the sod on my back lawn and make it heaven-on-earth for next year’s vegetable seedlings.

When everything is constructed, I’ll put a proper post on Vegetable Gardener.com. But I wanted to show you what I’ve been up to the past couple of days. Husband extraordinaire built three bed frames on top of our back lawn. Why three? Everything in gardening looks better in odd numbers – it’s a design thing.

Note that we’re leaving the grass patches in between the beds. Not only does it look nice, but it’s great for foot paths during planting and harvesting. In suburbia, we typically don’t have wide expansions of land, so traipsing mud into the house is almost certain – the lawn will cut back on that.

There’s no law that says you have to frame your compost sandwich – it isn’t necessary. We just wanted to. The total on the wood and screws for the frames was $66.00 ($22.00 per bed). We had been collecting cardboard anything that came out of our home for the past month or so. Then we took the cardboard and spread it out inside the beds over every piece of lawn. This is the first layer. Among the cardboard is a lot of cereal, pizza, and snack boxes.
This first layer of future garden soil was completely free.

While we’ve always put our cardboard into the recycle bin (and indeed, this is suppose to be the best eco-way to reuse paper products), I’m now irrationally attached to any cardboard going out the door.

Okay – so check THIS out. I’m cruising through Borders minding my own business when I happen to pause at the garden section (most of you will actually read “garden” as “porn” – you know who you are). I’m telling myself that I absolutely will not purchase one more gardening book. Yes, the promise is made while my fingers are crossed behind my back, just in case.

Then I see it. It’s not a book, but a box and it’s sitting at an angle which could only be described as coy, wearing a come hither look. If there’s one thing I can’t resist (aside from books and mochas) it’s boxes. And this one’s a beauty.

She’s wearing an antique gray-green as a base and adorned with Victorian lettering and pictures of vegetables from yester-year. In old fashioned strokes, “Kitchen Garden Box” is printed across the top, with “Save and Sow Seeds” right smack in the middle. Be still my heart. The seeds from my garden deserve to be saved and displayed in something this lovely.

On the back of the box there’s some adorable advertising describing you what you can expect to find inside. I claimed that box so fast (after all there was only one) that I nearly forgot to get a mocha. Of course, I didn’t actually forget to get the mocha. I’m a box freak but not completely insane.

Inside are all these wonderful cards each written in a quaint scrawl. There are cards on seeds saving, growing seeds, recipes, tips…oh, God knows what else. When I came across the fantabulously decorated seed envelopes I damn-near swooned.

Who in world could have created such a magnificent box to sit on my own bookshelf? I see Mike McGrath’s name near the bottom of the seed treasure box and it all makes sense. No wonder the creator knew what I wanted – this is no gardener-come-lately. He’s one of the originals. Remember Mike from Organic Gardening Magazine some years back? By “some years”, I mean like 12. I think his last year there was 1997.

Hey, Mike…dude, you out-did yourself this time. I mean, you had me at the empty box.

*No one sent me this box or any money in exchange for a review. Yes, I seriously bought it myself. Yes, I seriously almost died over it.

You may have heard about the fabulous Type-A Mom conference (by Kelby Carr) that took place this last weekend in Asheville, North Carolina. You might also know about the many breakout sessions that not only consisted of some excellent speakers, but also addressed many concerns that we as bloggers have, but isn’t often voiced honestly (and we had some honesty). These sessions gave everyone a chance to ask important questions face-to-face with bloggers-in-the-know and make connections that may have otherwise stayed a mystery as we went about our busy lives.

You might have also heard rumors of the wonderful sponsors that supported the conference just as they do individual bloggers. Not to mention those that embedded themselves right there in the Town Hall Meeting to answer the questions of several hundred serious mommy bloggers.

Someone may have told you about the fashion show, the Walk Disney World reception, Boiron Mom Market, and the tee shirts we wore made of plastic water bottles by KikaPaprika. Creative Memories gave us an embellished slide show of the conference before the conference was even over. Oh, and the singing – did anyone tell you about the singin?!

In fact, Angela England wrote and performed Type-A Mom’s very own song with Sarah (@RealLifeSarah) accompanying her on guitar. If you did hear all of that, then you more than likely heard about the wonderful speaker dinners that gave us a chance to really get to know each other a delicious downtown dinner. There are dozens of other things an attending blogger could have told you about the Type-A Mom conference.

No one could have told you that many of us showed up with the concern that maybe we were frauds. We didn’t fit the definition of mommy blogger at all. We were political bloggers, weight control bloggers, gardening bloggers, business bloggers, fashion bloggers, writing bloggers, and news bloggers. Maybe we weren’t “mommy bloggers” because we didn’t blog about being a mommy or raising our families.

What you may not have heard about was how we laughed and joked and hugged… and ran through the rain to catch a bus. How we watched a fellow blogger be the last to climb the bus stairs because of the contractions in her baby belly. How we all smiled and appreciated the expectant moms who made it to the conference because we’ve all been there. Every last blogger at that conference was threaded together because of pregnant bellies.

What you may not have heard was how those of us questioning where we fit began to realize that being a mom colors everything we touch – including anything we blog about. Its what makes us passionate and compassionate. It allows us to be exuberant, furious, sad…and realistic.

What you may not have heard is that each one of us went to that conference under a single label and came back as an entire community.

I want to thank a most gracious woman, Margaret Roach, a garden writer after my own heart, and her own community at the The Sister Project for sponsoring me at this conference. Not only has The Sister Project opened my eyes to what I forgot I was, but also introduced me to sisters I had yet to meet, Mishelle Lane, Lisa Douglas, Sara Harmon, Amber Haines, Malia Carden, Corina Fiore, and Deb Rox. I’m honored to blog with the sisterhood.

Yes, folks have you ever seen anyone so excited about a pile of garbage? Next to our monster-door cold frame we have a respectable size compost pile going – a big “thank you” shout-out going to our rabbits.

I started this pile long before I gave any thought to containing it. It’s already beginning to mulch down beautifully, getting ready to fortify our garden this coming season.

Between the composting materials coming out of our kitchen, not to mention the rabbitry, the pile is creeping outward; becoming a threat to our blossoming cherry tree and largely obvious to our neighbors next door.

So, this weekend we’re having a bin-raising and building sides around our compost pile. As a direct result of our rabbits’ generosity, we’re going to do a little pay-back by actually fixing the rabbitry roof. Hey, they scratch our backs – we keep the rain off theirs.

If we’re lucky, some of our neighbors will see our little industrious asses hauling lumber, working away and ask us what we’re doing. At that point, I will attempt to hypnotize them with my riveting lecture on the virtues of composting and convince them to start one of their own.

It’s all a part of my personal quest to turn suburbia into little farms.

For everyone who thinks I’m bashing suburbia: I reserve the right to do so as I’m a suburbanite extraordinaire and damn proud of it. (I admit the lawn thing pinched). It’s all in my sinister plan to turn suburbia into little micro-farms.

(I didn’t write the piece below; it was sent to me by my sister-in-law, Cindy Lou Who, who received it in an email.)

GOD:

Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago?

I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.

St. FRANCIS:

It’s the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers ‘weeds’ and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

GOD:

Grass? But, it’s so boring. It’s not colorful. It doesn’t attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It’s sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

ST. FRANCIS:

Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD:

The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

ST. FRANCIS:

Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it – sometimes twice a week.

GOD:

They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?

ST. FRANCIS:

Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

GOD:

They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

ST. FRANCIS:

No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD:

Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

ST. FRANCIS:

Yes, Sir.

GOD:

These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.

ST. FRANCIS:

You aren’t going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

GOD:

What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It’s a natural cycle of life.

ST. FRANCIS:

You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

GOD:

No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?

ST. FRANCIS:

After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

GOD:

And where do they get this mulch?

ST FRANCIS:

They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD:

Enough! I don’t want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you’re in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?

ST. CATHERINE:

‘Dumb and Dumber’, Lord. It’s a story about….

GOD:

Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St Francis.

Photo by One Tree Hill Studios

There’s nothing like learning gardening skills at the knee of the uber-fabulous Mrs. Greenthumbs. There will never be another one like her – I’m okay with that.

“Most people tend to assume that the bees have no knowledge of the plant’s use of them and are only after the nectar. In other words, they are a bunch of unwitting stooges, slavishly servicing the carnal appetites of the flowers and getting no fun out of the experience at all. I don’t think so.

I have observed bees going from flower to flower in the garden, and they seem to be enjoying themselves enormously. I wouldn’t presume to know the thoughts and feelings of bees, but if I saw a bunch of teenagers sipping nectar, rolling around with their feet up in the air, covered with fragrant pollen, and then racing off to do it again and again, I would assume they are having a wonderful time and would probably call the police.”

~ Cassandra Danz/Mrs. Greenthumbs

If you didn’t have the pleasure of knowing her or reading her profound, completely serious, and scientific gardening books come see my review on the late, seriously great – Mrs. Greenthumbs.