Weary as you lay at night waiting for the sun

I've gotten some really helpful tips over the last few days, and am particularly amused by the prospect of forcing myself, my cohabitant, and all of my guests/visitors to start peeing in the backyard instead of my bathroom. I would really evolve as a woman of the earth, and devolve as a good host!

Some of the more useful suggestions have come in the form of literature others have used in their gardening/food growing endeavors. If you don't yet know, I'm a big fan of lists, and look forward to the abundance of list-making opportunities afforded by this project. So, in that spirit, a collected list of resources I have so far, and a call for more additions:

• Gaia's Garden, Toby Hemenway
• Garden Anywhere, Alys Fowler
  
• How to Grow More Vegetables and Fruits, Nuts, Berries,
  Grains and Other Crops Than You Ever Thought Possible on Less Land
  than You Can Imagine, John Jeavons
• The Essential Kitchen Gardener, Frieda Arkin
• Food Not Lawns, Heather Coburn Flores

And for more pleasure/insight than instruction:

• Second Nature: A Gardener's Education, Michael Pollan
  
• things by M F K Fisher

I learned from an interview with Michael Pollan about his new book Food Rules: An Eater's Manual that home gardening is up 40% in the United States. I don't know what percent of the population that correlates to, but it's an exciting statistic. Many other countries around the world take home gardening and food growing as a given; a supplemental (or main source of) income, a hobby, a means of feeding their family, or some combination of all three. In fact, there are many cities that depend largely on small scale farming for their produce industry. Dar Es Salaam, for example, has a thriving urban agriculture and livestock raising industry, and about three quarters of its market produce comes from within city limits.

Where I live, during the height of the growing season, many people eat food from nearby farms and gardens without even knowing it, and more importantly, without even trying. This region is particularly fertile as it is situated between two major rivers, and enjoys a relatively cool, sunny summer time. Local agriculture industry thrives here, in part because of the progressiveness of the community, but mostly because, for those few abundant months of the year, it just takes no effort to get your groceries from down the road.

But, I digress. My garden will in no way be an attempt to bolster the local food economy, or make a political statement of any kind. If I were to wish that upon it, I would be putting far too much pressure on myself as it's cultivator, and its abilities as a newborn. Instead, I look at this project as a kind of course enrollment-- a semester long education in something that, despite all its bourgeois couture these days, is actually very fundamental and key for survival.

Especially over the couple of months, when my hands will remain clean and my food will remain store-bought, I'll be collecting ( & sharing!) information, statistics, and synthesizing it all in a way that makes relevant sense for my garden. Because, even though it may not seem like it, there is a connection between a Tanzanian family's livestock and the sage I hope to pluck from my garden and melt in a butter sauce in July. I'm not totally clear on what it is, but I know it's there.

p.s. Red House Painters, Metropol 47