Friday, June 26, 2009

Re-directions

I'm amazed to see it's been 14 or so months since I last posted. Also gratified- so much has happened, grown, solidified. A shortish re-cap:
I started a web page,then abandoned it; I'd hoped for an organizational tool that'd give me a simpler format for categorizing projects & subject thoughts. I still want that, but I realized that continuing in whatever way to verbalize, challenge, & refine my thinking & intentions is what I truly want from this effort. And anyway, the easy web format was just too hard. SO, I'll continue this as a diary of the project, chronicles of my slow schooling.
Last May, Q & I invited a new partner. In exchange for ownership of the Middle House, she's running the household(s). We pool our meager finances, she pays the bills & keeps food in the house. She's a talented Finder- we now have a working gas stove - vintage 1920, I think- with no foolery we can't see & fix ourselves. She's found rugs & food & a running red pick-up truck & building materials, which the great carpenter she found is using to finish the Middle House. It's actually nearing completion- now insulated, electrified, and sheetrocked; the imminent plumbing installation will include a branched drain graywayer system. (the carpenter found copper pipe & fittings enough). Over a year later, we all remain committed to each other & the household- if not specifically my own premises, leanings, & project (she believes the economy will "recover", frinstance).
The Gardens grow- I backed off from looking at green abundant results & have gone to improving the soil & planting beds, which is sustaining a new array of herbs & medicinals.
We acquired a dog, which eliminated the existing chickens; 5 little peeps are growing daily in the kitchen dry sink, so we should have eggs by Sept- October.
More to add to the library catalogue, different planting methods- lasagna gardening now- and much personal development. I backed off from the 40 hrs a week- money just ain't worth my time, once the mortgage is paid- and am now working 24 hr/week night shift. Much better- except that I've got to leave for work now. So more later - a lot to explore. A lot to tell.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Directions

Almost 3 months since the last post; I've been thinking for some time that I need to clean up the blog- organize it in such a way that there's less of my own meandering, more to-the-point posts: then last night a dear friend- who's read this blog!- asked me what my long term goals are here......
definately time for a little more clarity! SO. A new sidebar with more definition of the History of the Project- reflecting my slightly more developed thinking is in the making.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Keeping Body & Spirit Warm

Our heater died this year.... the big box-in-basement energy-greedy powerful central heat that sky-rocketed our PG$E bills while sending warm air through the drafty house. SO I decided not to get it fixed.... just see what happens.

Well, first of all, we're really, really cold. Hunkering down in chilly misery. SECOND of all, I'm having a welcome burst of creativity: keeping warm with recycled wool sweaters, washed in hot water to felt them, then making vests, boots, skirts, and mittens; the effect is WARM, colorful, and fabulous if you go in for that kind of thing; I might post pics later, but for now:

June 26 2009 update: The felting sweaters (and blankets) is a winner, hands down, flat out, over-the-top. My favorite is the boots- socks, really, up to the knee, triple layer soles. The sleeves of sweaters are perfectly suited for it: the sleeve cap goes over the knee, the wrist end is a good match for the ankle, tapered down pretty much like a leg, and the body of the sweater plenty enough for the soles & foot. The FIT, of course, depends on the size of the original sweater and how much initial surface area is taken up by the felting. They could become boots- I'm defining boots here as footwear with a sturdy enough sole to go outdoors in wet weather- by coating the soles with contact cement. A friend, Richard, did that with cheap felt boot liners, and voila! they're waterproof. I hope to learn how to cut & stitch tires for soles, or anything else for that matter; old rubber bath mats aren't bad- easy to cut, easy enough to stitch to the sole- but I really didn't like the look of it, so abandoned that idea, at least temporarily.
VESTS turn out to be immediately very simple; a cut through the front of a sweater with the sleeves cut off- I only lightly felted the vests or not at all; a vest needs to be big, for layering. The sleeves turn out to be mufflers: the sleeve caps sewn together with the wrists hanging down delight me, referencing as they do the casual preppy look of a sweater draped over the shoulders.
SKIRTS are more difficult than I imagined. It's been tough to find sweaters long enough to suit me; I like straight ankle or mid-calf length, one color, & most sweater bodies I found aren't long enough for that, given that they need to be cut below the arm holes. I made one incorporating the sleeves by cutting them off at about 8 inches, turning them to the inside, & stitching them closed at the bottom to make a pocket. The shorter skirts, of course, are easy: cut off the top, tie the waist if needed- sometimes they're snug enough to hold up by themselves, especially over pants or more skirts.
WRAPS are easiest made from the blankets, given the larger surface area. A straight stole makes a good lap warmer or shoulder wrap; bigger pieces go for ruanas.
ARM & LEG WARMERS, something I hadn't thought about before I started cutting & saw the possibility immediately, are easily made from sleeves. Narrower sleeves need to be opened up a little at the cuff for leg warmers, in order to accomodate a human foot; happily sweater sleeves are usually stitched closed, so it's easy enough to pick out the seam, leaving a finished edge.
Arm warmers only need to have the sweater detached at the shouders, course; fingerless gloves require a few stitches in the opening to make a thumb loop which not only accomodates the thumb but holds the cuff down over cold knuckles.

There are, of course, a jillion more possibilities for using sweaters; I was surprised at the dearth of suitable wool sweaters in the thrift stores, but realize my definition of suitable includes my rather narrow esthetic. I have in slow process a patchy dress for Pash, who likes that look- & I have many scraps left from the pieces I already made. Someone who's more in to muticolor, brighter colors than I am, someone who'd not mind acylic or polyester (those materials don't felt, by the way) would find a wealth of material in any thrift store in the U.S. I imagine.

THE FURNACE- or rather the lack of one- has another unexpected benefit. We're just a PG&E notice promising us a 20% gas deduction as a reward for using so little of it. The only gas appliance we have now are the stove & water heater.

More on Bicycle Powered Electricity

You may be among the others who noticed I didn't include the referenced links in the last post... I wasn't one of them, unfortunately!


and a great picture-

This man, in his 50th decade, pedals 265 volts.... enough to run a power saw, a computer..... The generated energy CAN be saved by hooking the generator to a battery . Apparently Wavy Gravy has been using a bank of bicycles hooked to generators for some years at events at the Hog Farm ; they had one on Gilligan's Island, too, to say nothing of the Flintstones ( thankyou, Alex!). The general downer word I can find on this kind of self-generated energy is that it's "not worth it", "worth it" being quantified as worth it in terms of $, $ & personal efficiency, and sustaining our typical U.S. personal energy consumption. WELL. Let's look at this , and other alternatives to energy consumption, in terms of human cost, earth cost; I think the balance is clear..... whether or not we pedal our own energy needs, alternatives are clearly the most "cost effective" when we look at cost other than $.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Bicycling To Energy Independence

Check this out: we can use a stationary bike, attached to a generator or battery, to produce electricity. Yes, we can! I first heard about this on an NPR interview; found many references on the web.... for most of us, of course, it's take a whole lot of cycliing to produce the enrgy we need for running all the stuff.... stove, fridge, TV, music, computer... to say nothing of heat & light & coffeemakers & etc.... the truly exciting news to me is that it's POSSIBLE to do this without the big spending transition to sun power requires.
I haven't set this up yet. Still hooked in to PG&E. BUT even the thought of producing our own power through our own power has got my imagination- and daily practice- moving in a stronger direction. When I see the little useless lights on equipment- even when the equipment's turned off- I now unplug it, imagining "ohhhh boy; that light on all night is going to cost us quite a lot of pedaling...." The imagination of living with children, saying "Of COURSE you can watch TV, of COURSE you can play on the computer all you want- just pedal for the power!" has me laughing whenever I think of it; not so much laughter thinking of my own use, of course, but getting there- check out the links for more information on this exciting idea.... and there're a lot more to see with a simple search.
PS: sorry for the unusual font change.... can't seem to get it all the same size.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

What happened next……

A long time since I last posted; a lot happening along with very apparently little….. first, the little:
Chickens: we lost another chicken to a night critter- didn’t put em up soon enough that night. We’re still getting eggs from the red hens; about 4/wk… surprising in this time of little light…. We didn’t expect regular eggs again till spring or so. The remaining white hen, Stripes, molted this year; looked like a frail old chicken for a minute, but’s now back in full henny feather.
Winter Garden: I planted in back, against my better planning, thinking I’d just put the fencing back around the plots….. well, it wasn’t nearly high enough, and the chickens had a Great Feast. We didn’t. In fact, if we were solely food-dependent on our winter harvest and what we stored from fall & summer, we’d be living on a few dried tomatoes, figs, grapes, and three giant zucchini; eggs, once in while; preserved lemons; wild salads, mostly sour grass; a few wild-seed crackers, including naturalized wheat and millet (about 2 cups worth); herbs & herbal teas, of course; about 10 lbs of potatoes; nasturtium capers; uncured olives, 34 of them packed in curing salt; and a few gallons of harvested rainwater.
I console my harvest-seeking self with the realization that this is MUCH better than last year, and next year is sure to be even more….. and my “told you so” self with one does what one can, and keeps on walking the walk, no matter.
Infrastructure: still slowly tooling along, but have moved back to the Front House for main living… front house with electricity, running water…. heat…. and moved almost all Stuff from the Middle, realizing that it’ll be MUCH more efficient to lay flooring and insulation with Stuff out of the way….. we’ve dug the deep trench and installed the conduit for electric to the Middle House, too, and started painting the Front and almost finished the front gracious stairs & porch….. one does what one can.
Then the lot…. Much social and inward change; composting old sour emotional shit, family relationships, old habitual un-needful behaviors; talk about Stop Shopping! (http://www.revbilly.com/…. Check out the music while you shop the site) I’ve begun to stop shopping in the aisles of discontent, going-nowhere-I-want-to-be-relationship; what a deep breath that is…
And what a hard road to travel; at least it’s clearly lit- the road signs say yes, keep going yr own way, focus on the vision, keep on keeping on, no matter what other’s want or expect that’s off the road- they’ve dropped off, gone their own ways without me; as Dr Seuss said, “those who mind don’t matter; those who matter don’t mind”…. So here’re me & QR, snuggled down in deep blankets, walking the walk with a whole lot of sweaters & coats on whenever we HAVE to get up. $…. After gaining, from family & friends & work, thousands of dollars, and then losing thousands to old debt and generosity and perfidy, I’ve decided to work full time. I’ll make a lot more $; I plan to pay for the work to be done, pay others who need the $ and want, and can, and WILL do the work we need. This has been a tough nut to compost…. I love sharing resources and visioning and what I think is building a future and an immediate Life…. What’s happened is, I appear to have cast my pearls before swine, and the swine have choked on em & spit em back in my face… So. I often struggle in relationship the ways I’ve often struggled in the rest of life: unsure what’s real, accepting what’s clearly not… going with someone else’s flow, at the strugglous expense of my own. Clearly not efficient or healthy or happy when I’ve so much I want to share, and so much to do…. and clearly an old habit, diverting from my own path in favor of someone else’s problems, part of the tough process of digging deep and letting the old relationships and unhappy habits go their own way without me; for the moment I’ve got my eyes on my own River, sailing along.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Naturalizing Living Food & Medicine

So back to "what did you mean "the tires were a bust?"- I meant my naturalizing efforts. For some time, I've been scouting out locations that seem to be largely undisturbed raw or abandoned land with good sunlight. In places that have good- or any!- soil, I've strewn poppies and native tobacco seeds and planted aloe vera pups. The aloes died already; too much sun, not enough water, I think- so I'm scouting new places, ideally not too inaccessible, especially needful for the seemingly universally useful, good-in-emergency, benevolent aloe.

As for the the poppies and tobacco, we'll see how it went this spring!

And as for the tires: I noticed that the railroad tracks here run mostly South to North, giving them really good sunlight potential where there aren't too many trees or cliff walls in the way. AND they're graded so water flows naturally into the rail bed, which is saved from annual flooding by the leveling and draining gravel spread under the tracks.

Of course, there's a marvelous tradition here, planting on the railroad bed: who doesn't remember the romatic story of old time engineers tossing poppy seeds along their routes, spreading golden California comfort and color? Now it's a bent gray-haired old woman leaning on a stick, stumbling along the tracks with multiple plastic bags and possibly some interesting pieces of wood or iron or purslane.......

Well, the tires. I saw a few scattered along the tracks during my usual course of busyness. They stayed there for almost one year before I made a move. I'd also scouted very easy access to the tracks, places where I could park and walk easily carrying a gallon of water, a little soil, and some straw. Places that already had tires lying around, or, in one place, could be easily rolled into position. I set up three tire planters in three locations along the tracks, using tires that were already sitting there and as much local dry brush and earth as I could find, supplemented with rich compost, hauled-in water and straw. Before planting, I came back a few times with a gallon of water, sometimes two, in plastic milk jugs; I packed the dry material tightly into the rim, more tightly each time, and poured more water in; the dry material takes some time to soak up the water, but eventually soaks up a LOT.... I wanted that water stored in the wet straw rim of the tire so the roots could suck it up later on, like the five-gallon bucket planting referenced here earlier (post 5/22/07), without the holes drilled in - I figured the rims would hold the excess water, with the rest running through the bottom- so the drilled holes were uneccessary. Every time I went back- at my whim & convenience, having stowed the water bottles, straw & soil in the trunk- I tested the wetness with a hand or a stick; when it'd stayed moist for a few days, I planted poppy seeds in the soil on top. I saw them all sprout! So why were they a bust? Like the song says, "the angels took him away, poor boy......" only in this case, I think it was The Man, who'd decided to clean up the tracks. So they were a bust.... the tires were gone one day, along with some rolls of heavy gauge wire and bark I'd been eyeing. Well, gone but not forgotten- I've yet to strew seeds on the tracks, or try the tire planting in corners of the city... maybe I'll try two or four inch plants this time, so they don't just look like old tires with dirt and a few weeds in. And strew a few poppy seeds, in memory of the old engineers. I hope you will too.

Tire Planting

Two people responded to my recent post mentioning tire planting.... specifically, "what did you mean 'the tire planting was a bust?'" I realized I'd never actually written about it- and I think it's so important!

First of all, discarded tires - a blight on the landscape, a nightmare when piles catch fire, a 1.5 million tons/year extra dumping in the US alone- are also a tremendously valuable natural urban resource.
Durable, accessible, easily moved around by rolling no matter how big- they're a perfect container for planting. The black rubber absorbs heat, which keeps roots warm, which in turn extends the planting season- both early and late season crops are possible in places too cold to plant in the ground.

Stacked tires make a lovely raised bed- minimal bending & stooping- and hold enough earth to accommodate even root vegetables quite well, making them a favorite for potatoes, which one report states yielded, in a single season, 25 lbs of potaoes from four stacked tires!

Fears of heavymetal contamination are groundless; washed tires contain heavy metals, but they're tightly bonded with the rubber... and not likely to be taken up by plants, with the exception of zinc- contained in tires, easily taken up by plants that like it, and an essential human nutrient.

As if that weren't elegant enough to satisfy the most fastidious tastes, tires are ALSO a perfect container for use on concrete or otherwise tough-to-plant surfaces. In fact, perfect for holding pockets of food and medicine plants in urban areas that are usually unplantable. And often have plenty of tires piled up somewhere, if not piled then dumped singly in alleys and ditches and parking lots. And no one seems to mind if you take them away, although it seems it must be against the law to pick up discards. In fact, in Mexico, Cuba, most of South America, parts of Africa and North America have pockets of tire gardens- it's a delight to reel through the references online, the pictures, the manymany people growing food in sometimes such difficult circumstances, the possibilities!






The photo above is J.A.R., a Mexico City Punk Collective that's reclaiming and greening the abandoned Commons; I couldn't find a photo, but they use tires regularly.

Unfortunately for them, some people seem to have a class and/or aesthetic problem with tires lying around, yielding beautiful greenery or not; one partner asked me to hide them, and a neighbor complained, with a sniffing nose, "but tires..... can't you use something else?" Well, no, actually, I can't...... and I'm delighted to have them around!

Friday, November 9, 2007

Guerilla Gardening

Yes, there's a movement! Search "guerilla gardening", and you might be as amazed and gratified as I am.... it seems that around the globe, city people are changing the barren landscape by installing planter boxes & plants in abandoned soils... from what I see online, we're looking at- obviously- connected computer users and gardeners with the wherewithal to buy bags of soil, etc, and it looks as if it's mostly flowers planted- but never mind that, I say. It's happening. Reclaiming the Commons- it's happening all over.
Here's the site with the flowers-in-a-grate picture: http://weburbanist.com/2007/08/21/urban-ecological-subversion-the-art-of-guerilla-gardening-in-public-spaces/.

Naturalizing a Community Pharmacy

Great success with naturalizing poppies! At least one hill where I strewed the seeds bloomed and seeded again; I've saved more seeds of poppy and native tobacco to throw out by the waterways where they'll presumably get what they need. The tires were a bust- I'd set up three tire planters by the railroad tracks, making them pretty and green-looking; I guess that caught some attention- at least, the tires'd just been sitting there for months before I planted in them.
I know this is a good time of year for poppy planting, but not so sure about the tobacco- I'm thinking that if the native is now setting seeds, it's the native time to strew them around, since that's what the plant's doing anyway. As for the Aloe Vera- probably the most immediately and universally useful of the three I'm concentrating on- I've got some pretty good pups going, but haven't found good, useful places to put them yet; maybe under public trees that're already regularly cared for. We'll see.

At Home In The Houses

It's so damn slow, this home building. Slower than I thought it'd be, anyway. Like the garden, it's a pain in the ass and immensely satisfying. I'm still stuffing the walls with insulation in the Middle House, still sawing and fitting in the old oak flooring we found in the basement; after moving furniture & books & boxes out of the way at least 102 times, I've realized that it actually WILL be easier if I move everything out first to make way for the infrastructure... and that involves help from the big guys who still have strong backs- which involves waiting for the big guys..... We did get an initial electrical hookup into the Middle House, sinking conduit pipe 2 feet down into the clay to run from the main box into a big new juncture. AND I've completely replaced the kitchen plumbing, with very few of the "right" tools and expert advice from friends who know how; now we'll see if I can fix the central heating before we freeze in here.
But I'll tell you, probably more than once: there is very little more satisfying, more empowering, than doing it with my own hands. I can do so much more than I ever thought!

AAARRRGGGGGHHHHH... Still Harvesting

However much I enjoy this- which is a LOT- this bountiful harvest can be a pain in the ass. The darling tiny cherry tomatoes are a darling endless chore, fruiting way high back in the vines where it's easy to see em- and hard to pick. Bringing loaded baskets into the house means having loaded baskets in the house to deal with- washing, freezing, cooking- the only ones that're easy are the olives, which I'm just covering with salt.
Gramma Mable, my Father's mother, set up a kitchen where they spent the summers camping out- and she'd can the wild fruits. While I long to just go to Safeway and pick up some potaoes & greens, I feel like a traitor to myself when I do it- the rhythm of the hands in the earth, the rising growth, is like midwifing our food, and, in turn, midwifing my independence from The Man, midwifing connection with a deeper reality than TV news and shiny supermarket sustenance. Pain in the ass is even a welcome facet of the process- and I have a lot more sympathy for the hard-working squirrels.

Fall/Winter Food Garden

Into November & I've just realized it's high time to plant the winter veg..... fall/winter planting is new to me, being so focussed on the spring planting and fall harvest; but now the summer corn beds are ready, at least, and the cucumbers and squash- they're the only crops that aren't still bearing for us; tomatoes are going pretty strong, and the potatoes are big eggs lying on the ground where I haven't hilled em up enough; now I'm beginning to understand the process of covering them with higher & higher piles of straw- where I've done that, we can actually just thrust our hands into the piles and come out with potatoes! The herbs are still fine, too- thyme & sage, chamomile & feverfew being the heartiest now, with the basil limping along enough for more flavor to the tomatoes, and I imagine the lemon grass & shiso will make a mighty comeback in their season.
SO. Peas follow the corn, delivering nitrogen and nitrogen-fixing bacteria back into the corn-depleted soil. Plenty good compost to dig in, too. I'll keep the tomatoes going until they drop out on their own- they MIGHT turn out to be perennials in this climate- we didn't put in any hybrids, so they ought to stay true to their sweet red/purple/yellow natures if they make it... and if they do, they might be a good candidate for naturalizing. Imagine wild tomatoes hot from the vine!
I'm digging new beds up front for lettuce, spinach, onions & garlic (in with the roses to keep off fungus- I hope) and cabbage, broccoli, kohlrabi, beets, carrots, kale, collards and more potatoes and peas. There's better winter light in front, so they should flourish. If I get em all in in time, we'll have a dark leafy green Christmas with red & gold winter root crops.
I'm loving this ever-bearing cycle of food crops. No, it's not enough to keep our bellies full all by itself, even with the addition of plentiful eggs (until the daylight gets too short for their laying cycle)- but it sure is plenty to keep my spirit- and my hands- rooted in the Miracle.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Won't Be Water But Fire Next Time

California burning... we've probly all watched that news; 300,000 people evacuated in the nick of time to a super dome, homes destroyed, insurance companies talking their talk; and that's about the end of the resemblance to Katrina & the Gulf Coast. The relieved, grateful, rescued people aren't characterized as "refugees". They were, for the most part, rescued in the nick of time. There are medical personnel roving around the superdome, distributing fresh water and particle masks. Many of them had private fire insurance- and their hired firefighters were on the scene before the public safety guys. They talk about just being patient while the insurers rebuild. I saw two people of color in the displaced crowd footage. As my Father said when I returned from a trip to Idaho with the news that I'd seen only two black people the whole time I'd been there, "Wow, you were lucky! there're only two black people living there!"

So much for the obvious dis-parrallels. We see that a co-ordinated rescue effort is really possible when we set our minds to it.

And so much for what we think we personally can or cannot do in the direct recovery efforts in SoCal & Gulf Coast- we can certainly work on our own reflexive actions, attitudes that made the hell of Katrina recovery possible in the first place. For one thing, we know that "pulling the race card" is deeply offensive to many white liberals- "how dare you call me predjudiced!", while our own attitudes towards poverty and class remain almost invisible to many of us. How often do we actually look at a "homeless" person's face? ,

Purple Harvest


Oh it's beautiful! The grapes flourished- wild native california grapes, tiny, veryvery sweet; I met a woman at work who grew up foraging for most of their family's food; she said it was a wonderful time, but probly a lot more fun in retrospect... at least she knows how to do it now. These days she makes jelly from wild grapes & blackberries- says no grape is as good as the wild ones. Next year we plan to harvest & put up some jellies. The olives are few, but ripening- I'm processing them by packing in rock salt; hopefully we'll have those delicious dry olives I've only been able to get from delis in the past.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Credit Where It's Due

Despite my frustration with them, I must say the Water Dept is coming through for us in some major ways.... not only keeping it flowing (as long as we pay in dollars) but helping with conservation measures. The Vallejo department is offering free low-flow shower heads (nice ones, with massage and various other stream options) and a lawn watering guide- it's a chart that shows how long to leave the water on, calculated by the length of time it takes to fill an empty can with 1.5 inches of water, and more helpful hints like adjusting sprinkers so the water goes to the plants, not the sidewalks; surprising how many of us water the sidewalks!

They've also issued an important Alert regarding antibacterial soaps and other products containing Triclosan- which is all of them. I've been interested in antibacterial products since working as an Infection Control Nurse; I wondered whether these pervasive products would promote ARMs (anti-bacterial resistant microbes) in the same way antibiotics do. I found plenty research on the subject- the answer is NO, there's no danger of promoting ARMs from using those products; Triclosan, the common anti-bacterial agent in soaps and plastics, is powerful enough that it kills everything in its path, rather like bleach but easier on the skin. I also found out that it's really unneccessary to use antibacterials instead of plain old soap- the best cleaning is accomplished by friction and the slipperiness of soap, which effectively sluices off dirt and microbes.
Unfortunately, killing microbes isn't all Triclosan does. According to the Water Dept, small amounts of Triclosan are showing up in our water supply. While not apparently harmful when used on skin, it's potentially deadly when ingested. No real danger from the tiny amounts we ingest daily from the overloaded public water supply- the problem is, Triclosan is stored in the body rather than safely excreted, meaning it builds up over time to potentially toxic levels..... and there's no way to completely remove it from our water or our bodies.

What to do? First of course, stop using antibacterial products. We don't need em. Second, harvest rainwater- it's still the purest drinking water around!

Alma: Homeless, With Garden

I asked some friends whether they’d seen her around: You mean that big pile of moving clothes & blankets? Oh yes, she’s been around for years…
I never noticed her until yesterday. It wasn’t the big moving pile of clothes & blankets, or the beach umbrella cocked at an angle to keep out the sun, or the overflowing grocery cart holding the umbrella up that opened my eyes to her- it was the garden. A little row of tin cans with green, green billowing out: tiny purple flowers, a few green onions, a potato vine…. obviously carefully tended to.
I parked in the lot behind her and walked over to her bench; she was bent double over her big lap… sleeping? Dead? Will she mind an intrusion?
Excuse me… Ma’am? Hello? I knocked on the back of the bench, the closest she has to a door to her home… Hello?
She unfolded slowly, blinking at me- Yes?
Hello- my name is Pam. I noticed your beautiful garden….
Oh, thank you!
Her face is enormous, round; yellow sclera and an unnatural golden glow to her brown skin; hepatitis, for sure…. usually accompanied by abdominal pain, nausea, and swelling… her feet and ankles, covered only by white socks, are huge; partly healing and newer open sores visible on her calves. Front teeth missing….. and her Smile! Her face opened to it like the sun coming up; no, she seemed not to mind my intrusion.
What’s your name? I held out my hand; her answering fingers are long, delicate, strong-looking; her palm over mine is gentle, no pressure…. blackened nails, dry crusty skin- My name is Alma. How nice to meet you.
She has the gentlest voice, soft, but carrying over the traffic sounds; a British accent. Gracious, kind- the voice of a Lady or a benevolent queen.
What do you have growing here? (The onions seem to be leaning over in the little can, very little soil)-
These were planted in sand, but I think someone wanted it, you know. This one is a potato vine- Oh, the flowers are so pretty! I’d like to water them, but they had no water today….
I know where I can get water, Ma’am… may I bring some back to you?
How kind! I could use some water…
Is there anything else you could use? I have some of that waterless handwashing stuff if you like; it’s very good stuff when there’s no water….. Why yes, (gesturing toward her cart with a twinkling laugh) I think I have some in here, but I’m not sure it's still there- people do like to go shopping, you know-
I got home fast as a rabbit on the run. A big jar of water; an Aloe Vera pup planted in a coffee can; another can of soil; a fresh bottle of waterless cleaner…..
Why, hello! How kind of you! Oh yes, I know Aloe Vera….. very good for the skin. I used it when I was working; I’d come home and take off my…. Gentle hands make a scrubbing motion across her face; Take off your makeup? Yes, makeup! And then I’d rub the Aloe on my face; very good for the skin….
Ma’am, I have no wish to intrude- but I think it’s going to rain…..
Yes, good for the garden!
Yes…. good for the garden, not so good for the feet… Ms Alma, I’m worried about your feet…. could you use some shoes?
Oh dear, I have shoes in here! Then her light little laugh….
You see, I’m a nurse- I can’t help but notice these things; do you want to go inside? Do you have the services you need? Do you have a doctor?
My words came out in a rush of anxiety for her, for me, for Us…
Well, I have my social security, and that insurance… what is it… yes, I have everything I need.
Do you want to be inside, Alma? There’re places you could go- Casa de Vallejo is nice-
Oh no, no, no- she’s smiling, shaking her head, looking at her lap- I’d like to buy a little house- just a little one, with a roof over my head and running water… and again that soft little laugh. No, I have everything I need....
Ma’am, I’m so happy to meet you, so glad you welcomed me here- she looked surprised, stumbling over her words- Why, I’m glad I could be here for you to meet!
Me too, Alma. Me too. Thank-you.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Keeping Clean

Ever since working as an infection control nurse, I've been interested in the rapid spread of antibiotic-resistant microbes (ARMs). I'd known from childhood that taking antibiotics uneccessarily or not following the prescription- usually taking only PART of the pills, until I felt better- would open the door to future antibiotics "not working". I thought that meant that they wouldn't work on me. Imagine my surprise when I learned that this cavalier use of antibiotics poses a major public health risk! In fact, since the first use of penicillin in the 1940s, ARMs have been observed; some microbes were observed to have developed penicillin resistance in the first few years of use.... and of course, it hasn't ended there; the new "superbugs" surface regularly- overwhelming staph infection in a healthy young man was reported just last week in the local news; from a small cut, the guy went septic- infection carried in the blood stream.

Safe Home Cleaning

Some time ago, Mom asked me what cleaning products we can use to replace the most widely available toxics- here's a great link with answers: http://lifelearningtoday.com/2007/09/11/green-cleaning-easy-and-natural-ways-to-clean-and-freshen-your-home/.
For sometime I've been using baking soda for cleanser- with regular desperate in-betweens with Ajax to get the stains out of the sink & tub. Well, no more! It turns out that borax, lemon juice, salt and vinegar are not only safer- they work just as well! Check it out.

Peak Oil

The following links are to reports sponsored by the U.S. government regarding peak oil. There's been a lot of talk about this, of course, from conservative geologists to radical solutionists who say that peak oil may occur as soon as 2010..... the one thing they all agree on: peak oil is coming. The lifeblood of modern civilization is thinning, decreasing, while we use more & more to sustain our lifestyles. I've included the links in answer to the Many who say that Hubbert ( the original peak oil theorist) was wrong, wrong wrong.....and yes, he was wrong in some specifics- he didn't include new oil recovery technologies, frinstance. Or the incredible increase in demand- think China, think SUVs- but overall, peak oil theory is accepted as fact- even by the US government. Check out the links:

http://www.netl.doe.gov/publications/others/pdf/Oil_Peaking_NETL.pdf

http://72.14.253.104/search?q=cache:9SOVttckKiAJ:www.projectcensored.org/newsflash/The_Hirsch_Report_Proj_Cens.pdf+peak+oil+government+report&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=3&gl=us
Interesting, too, that one of our major oil rich families- the Bush Dynasty- is now investing in water-rich land in Paraguay- they now own the world's second largest natural water source.(http://www.progressiveindependent.com/dc/dcboard.phpaz=show_topic&forum=103&topic_id=24247)
Is it really just paranoia that makes me fearful of these people controlling our oil, our water? ....when's control of the air we breathe coming?

Monday, September 24, 2007

Wild Crackers

Finally I've collected the wild wheat, winnowed & separated wheat from chaff (mostly), ground the grains and baked a big cracker with the flour.... it was delicious.



Here's the winnowed wheat on a plate, still chaffy. I had a big fistfull of wild wheat; this is the grain that fell off when I rubbed it in a big cloth.





Getting all the chaff out was tough- after I'd shaken most of the grains out, I toasted it in a metal sieve over open stove top flame, and more chaff burned off.


It was easy as pie to grind it in the blender- I ended up with about half a cup of flour from a cup of grain.


And here's the final delicious cracker (on the right, in case you don't recognize it). Flour, water, & oil, baked nicely in the oven!

Friday, August 3, 2007

Cornucopia At Kentucky Street Farms



WOW. what I want to tell you is that the gardens are booming out food & flowers & medicine...... feverfew, clary sage, mints, chamomile, rose hips and yarrow are already drying for tea or ready for harvest; fresh sage & basil & marjoram & thyme & anise are ready to grace our plates; three kinds of apples, sweet nectarines, plums & peaches are falling from the loaded branches into our grateful hands & mouths; the corn's tasseling & fattening & the tomatoes are over 7 ft tall, loaded with red & gold fruit; delicious blossoms are ready for saute when we don't leave them to grow into fat little squash; the peas & beans are so densely packed in the green we can hardly find em before they grow fat & tough..... roses & clematis are blooming & filling the air with amazing perfume..... the chickens are laying three eggs a day.
All this probably isn't as astonishing to people who've raised food & flowers & chickens as it is to me; somehow, even knowing that this IS, in fact, how the Earth provides for us, I'm amazed, gratified, and extremely Thankful. It's HARVEST.

Speaking Chicken

Some time ago, a couple of the local kids were here to visit the chickens- Jason announced that he knows chicken talk, and Mitch immediately started squawking and purkling; Jason shouted WAIT! You're telling them the wrong thing! Well, I thought I knew chicken talk, too. I've been going out to them, squawking and purkling, whenever I have food for them; they all come running for it.... I've been quite pleased with my supposed ability to speak chicken. SO. Imagine my surprise: this morning I called out Heeeerrrre Kiiitykitttyyyyykidddeeeee- in a very high-pitched, most un-chicken like voice- and the chickens came running. Maybe the chickens speak cat?

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Brains On Cruise Control

We've probably all heard about, and are appalled by, the latest infant death from heatstroke after being left in a car. Interestingly- but maybe not surprisingly- I'm not able to find the information online, published in last week's SF Chronicle, I found most important. First of all, there are about 3 dozen of these deaths each year in the US alone. That would be THIRTY SIX infant-left-in-car-deaths each year; three deaths each month; almost one each week.
What's up with this?!? The Chronicle posited an answer: "brain researchers" ( my quotes) have found that the human brain can, and does, go on automatic pilot. The brain does NOT make any distinctions regarding the importance of what's forgotten- it could be the coffee cup on top of the car; the ice cream melting in the trunk; the baby in the back seat. It doesn't matter- the brain makes no value distinction when on auto-pilot. In fact, the perceived importance of the baby actually makes it easier to forget: we tell ourselves we'd never forget the baby, for god's sake. Thirty six grief-struck parents per year tell us a different story, one I think we need to pay close attention to. Not only so we don't forget our babies or the ice cream- we need to pay attention to this because auto-pilot is a potentially dangerous hypnosis, and we're all vulnerable. What else do we "forget"? What happens to our critical thinking abilities when we're on auto-pilot- accepting the "news" as Truth, buying tainted food & polluting chemical cleaning products, using pertrol-based energy, distractedly listening to political leaders, accepting official counts of US soldier deaths in Iraq as the only ones we need to hear about, choosing the lesser of the evils? How many times have we told ourselves "they'd never let that happen...." probably as many times as we've reasssured ourselves "I'd never do that, allow that, put up with that...." and we do, all of us, over & over again.
As Jim Hogshire (see Poppy Post) reminds us, when we're raised to believe something cannot exist, we don't recognize it, even when it's before our very eyes. Well. Waking Up is obviously very hard. Compassion for ourselves & others is crucial to the process. I think we can do it- recognizing and challenging unspoken assumptions, remembering and evaluating from one day to the next the changing stories political leaders tell us, asking the hardest questions- especially of ourselves- and really hearing the hardest answers, learning to see what's before our very eyes - hey, the coffee smells GOOD!

The Venerable Angel, Poppy

Jim Hogshire, in his excellent article "Poppycock" published in "You Are Being Lied To" (see library sidebar) tells us: " Ever since the passage of The Harrison Act made made opium America's first 'illicit substance' 85 years ago, propaganda has proved itself most effective in the war on poppies. This has not been done so much by eradicating the poppy plant from the nation's soil as by eradicating the poppy from the nation's mind....the United States government battles the poppy by creating and enforcing a sort of deliberate ignorance about opium, opium poppies, and everything connected with them.... Being brought up on falsehoods almost inoculates a person against true information. If you know for sure that opium poppies do not grow in the US, you could not recognize a poppy if you were staring directly at it". "


Boy, does THAT ever ring the bell of Truth..... frinstance, did you know that ALL poppies- not just the infamous papaver somniferum- have sedating and analgesic properties? Or that those fine big dried pods we can get from the flower mart could easily be brewed into an analgesic tea? How about the pretty cottage garden down the street.... did you know that nice little old lady is growing OPIUM? I'll bet she didn't realize it, either...... how about the fact that opium poppies naturally grow everywhere in the world except the North & South Poles? How about the fact that opium is by far a better pain reliever than the expensive, MD-controlled synthetics demerol or methadone? AND THAT IT'S LESS ADDICTIVE?!? How about the fact that it's actually legal to grow them in the US ..... as long as you don't use or intend to use them medicinally? And, yes, those really are 90% viable opium poppy seeds on those bagels at Safeway and everywhere else we buy them..... Then, of course, there's the "common knowledge" that producing opium from an opium poppy is extremely difficult; did you know that all you have to do is score the green pods and collect the sticky juice a few hours later? That juice is, yes, opium.
Hogshire reminds us, too, that "the power to relieve pain is even greater than the power to inflict it..... so the government's control of opiates- and its larger effort to deprive anyone of truly effective pain relief (unless they get the government's permission)- is a stunningly crude method of social control. Pain avoidance is a powerful motivator." And "Ceding control of opium means ceding control of pain relief to the State... which has shown a truly morbid interest in inflicting pain and denying its relief in order to effect social change. This is not a power a free people should give up without a fight."
Of course, we could believe that the government is merely trying to save us from addiction..... after all, who wants to be a strung-out street-living thieving-for-the-next-hit junkie? Not I, said the fly. But is that really the price of effective independent pain control? I think not. For someone like me, maybe so- I have a highly addict-prone streak; cigarettes and coffee have their fangs sunk deeply into my daily routine, and I sure don't want to add another- esp illegal- habit to my repertoire. But not everyone's like me: millions of Americans take addictive pain relievers regularly; codeine cough syrups, vicodin, norco, codeine pills, demerol, fentanyl, dilaudid..... and millions of those pain-relieved Americans are NOT addicted. In fact, opiate use rarely leads to addiction when used solely for pain control.
Well, the next time you wake up in the middle of the night with a tooth-ache, or sprain an ankle with no medical insurance, or suffer from debilitating menstrual cramps you're told are "all in yr pretty little head" - you MIGHT want to check that nice old lady's garden for some pods to boil up.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Prayer

Mother of All Beings, I implore you, hear my prayer.

I feel your tenderness.

Mother, I now understand I have let myself be devoured and I have devoured others and I have vomited out rot.

I feel your forgiveness.

Mother, I now understand that if I think someone has wronged me, I will become a mad junkyard dog ready to tear out the throat of another in your care.

I feel your compassion.

Mother, I now understand that if another has wronged me, and promised to make it right, I remain frightened and bitter until it’s made good, even though the other is also in your Care.

I feel your sorrow.

Mother, you who know above all others how I’ve neglected the Life you gifted me, the long years I’ve forgotten you, the despair I’ve breathed even in your presence,
yet you still recognize me and hold me tenderly in your heart.

I feel your tears mingle with mine and the tears of all beings, our tears that salt the seas and water the earth and fill the blood and breath of all beings in your Care.

Mama, I feel your infinite Love.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Being a Part of It All

A friend commented: Have you heard of the Waterkeepers Alliance? Wonder if any of them have made their way into your circle. Turkey Creek Community Initiatives is a member of the Alliance (at least for now).
WOW. I checked em out at http://www.waterkeeper.org/. I very much dig that they’re a national constellation of groups of trained local people with their own boat (and waders, too!) observing and documenting, through formal protocols, the condition of watersheds and waterways in their own neighborhoods, focusing on the effects of industrial pollutants. They sound like true Guradians of the Earth, Water Division. Also provides the people direct connection with Earth as well as power tools for protection of, and advocacy for, healthy living waters.

For myself, it’s essential now that I focus on my own daily practice: the solid realization that I am myself an industrial polluter- an Ajax chlorine BLEACH user, a solvent and detergent user, a corporate water user, and that I have a choice about that, as well as deeply felt knowing that I can do this- keeps me focused on personally exploring daily practice independent of the hegemony of Babylon. I find that employment or participation within the nonprofit world, the corporate world- especially working with issues I care about deeply- keeps me thinking/being/engaging/obsessing in and with the Babyloney of struggle. Struggle with meetings, papers, memos, budgets, deadlines, filings, phones, bureaucrats and bureaucratic wrangling, all the while desperate to keep “making” enough little money to keep giving to the big polluters/sweatshop runners/agribusiness captains/bankers/looters to keep them supplying the soaps and balms and fashions and “entertainments” I’ve come to depend on….. Well.

I’ve been thinking lately that all of our widely varying practices- social, political, cultural, personal, thinking, religious practices- are essentially human attempts to live consonant with our human needs, in this case our need to do right by our own lights, the light being reflections of the same Sun through widely varying lenses.

Guardians of the Earth like Waterkeepers and TCCI are trained, willing & able to engage directly with the Man in his own language. Formal organization is essential to that process.
And through my current lens, informal organization is essential: focusing on practice within my geographic community, who or whatever that is, is opening in me exploration and direct, immediate engagement with LIFE.

Thursday, July 5, 2007

RIP, Dear Friend

It’s been a little over a year since Don died. Donald Leo Shortis. Donny. My dearest friend during a period of extreme upheaval and wild personal growth. Don!
We met soon after I’d moved, alone, to a sun-filled apartment on Carolina Street. I’d abruptly left a ten-year marriage and a valiant attempt to go straight. Not that I was drug-ridden or outlaw- just that, after years of struggle living as an artist, I thought I’d try a different route- something with a pension, maybe, medical benefits and a decent $ salary; I realized that I’d probably keep on living- maybe a long time- and my life at the time was pretty tiring for an old lady to live. I started nursing school and married- on the books- a decent, fine man with a credit card he paid off every month and a “good” job. Well, I DID become a nurse, DID get a pension and benefits and decent salary….. and lived pretty much in misery. No lack of love- just too much misery. So I Left. It took one week to find a place & move completely out; new town, new life….. and I met Don.

He was mowing the lawn at my new place, sweating and grunting over bumpy ground with a hand mower, leaving that sweet moist new-mown grass smell behind him; he looked so startling- a two foot long straight red beard growing down his neck, giant arms and belly, tattoos of skulls and women and faded illegible words everywhere I could see, clothes so dirt- embedded the original color and fabric was obliterated- that I’d’ve thought he was a dangerous freak if he hadn’t been mowing, & just would’ve sidled away with my face turned. But I didn’t- I introduced myself, shook hands, and commented on the sweet fine smell; for the next five years, he’d periodically remind of that day: member when I first met you? & you said how nice the grass smelled? I knew you were a nice lady.

We got a little closer when I came home with a giant piece of furniture I needed to haul up my twisty stairs; he was across the street by the church (he was living in the church basement then) and I called him over for help:Yeah… I can help you! member how you like that grass smell?
We got the big chair upstairs- he was strong as Atlas, and I felt like he was holding my world up with that one giant piece I couldn’t move alone. We sat down with glasses of cold water, and he asked me to help him with some writing: think maybe you could look at something I got? Sure. He pulled out a clutch of official looking papers he kept folded in his back pocket; he wanted help filing a complaint with the Labor Board. He’d been working at the church, sweeping the parking lot, in exchange for living in the basement and $60/month- now they’d stopped his $ and told him he couldn’t live there anymore. But that wasn’t his main concern; he was most upset that they’d been paying him less than minimum wage, which he’d just found out- I don’t think he knew there WAS a minimum wage until a friend told him. I don’t like people cheating me. Just cuz I’m homeless.
He couldn’t fill out the forms because he couldn’t read; he could barely write either, except for his carefully drawn signature. He didn’t know or have most of the information required for the form- his boss’s last name, how long he’d worked there, his residential address, a phone number- he DID have a social security number squirreled away in his back pocket with his other official papers. We filled out the forms as best we could- I figgered yr smart, cuz yr a doctor. He called me “doctor” from the first time he saw my stethoscope up to the day he died.

We went through a lot together after that: Don wanted a place to stay ( I only had to say “no” one time before he got it and never brought it up again), I wanted help with my projects, and we both wanted Friendship. I got the help I needed, Don found a car & then a field to live in, and we both got strong, sure friendship.

There are marks of our projects all over the Farm: we tilled the hardpacked clay, planted roses (his grandmother told him that roses are the heart of the home- she always planted them around the house), planted trees, built makeshift arbors- and he generally kept the front little lawn looking respectable. He always looked out for clay and rubble for me: we hauled at least a ton- in very small loads- back to the Farm from fields & lots & construction sites he’d sussed out. We tried turning tires inside out for planters; we built planting beds with the rubble and cut turfs for retaining walls in the Medieval fashion. We painted the middle room red- then immediately painted it over in white. We fixed what we thought we could fix, and tried what we couldn’t- we had to get a new toilet after me & Don tried to fix the old one, cracking it open in the process. We teased each other and hollered sometimes and always worked it out.
We spent regular time admiring our work, even years after the event- member when we painted the room red? member how we hauled all that clay? I gotta eye fr clay now.... member how we planted the poppies in my field? member how I gave you that butter dish? I knew you’d like it cuz it’s yellow…Yeah, we work good together…

When I explained why I didn’t want any of his friends visiting here- criminals know criminals, and I don’t need any criminals around, yrself excepted- he said simply yeah. I know a lot of criminals. OK. He never failed to say to astonished friends I introduced him to I’d never steal from here. These’ re my friends, we help each other out. And he never did steal from here, just gave & gave & gave.

A few years after we met, we were sitting on the porch with a friend who’s also an LCSW. She’d had an attack of nausea, and was kneeling on the floor to keep it at bay; listening to him, she crawled over on her hands & knees to ask him more questions- she was appalled that he had no social services in place. Later, Don said Man, I didn’t know what to think when that lady started crawling toward me…but he took it with absolute equanimity, like he did everything else that surprised him. He told us he’d gave em the papers last time, I don’t know what happened.

Our friend worked with him for some time; did the written psych eval and guided him to the right agencies. When I drove him out of town, about 30 miles away, to one of the appointments, he said I guess this’s why I never heard from em last time…I didn’t know I had to go to Fairfield…how’d they think I ‘d get there? Was I sposed to WALK? And I thought, how’s anyone who can’t read expected to understand what to do in the first place?

He got the services he needed. He got to a doctor, he started getting checks. And he got sicker & sicker: emphysema, massively swollen legs from venous insufficiency, type II diabetes and heart disease.
By the time he died, he was living inside- he’d inherited a little trailer house from his Dad, & his long lost brother found a park and moved it there. He was too sick to go out much, so I’d visit him there. He told me he could hear his Daddy playing cards at the table, talking to him- he told me he had all he ever wanted: to live inside, to have a little money just like reglar people do. We planted roses around his door, the heart of his home. Then, a few months after going inside, he died.

It’s been a year and a month now. That’s how long it’s taken me to write about him; that’s how long ago he died. I miss him every day. I hear him calling me Muscles when I lift something big; I hear him recounting our projects when I’m discouraged. I think of him every time I clip the roses. The Heart of our Home. Yeah, we do good work together, Don. RIP, my Friend.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Water, Water Everywhere....

Food, shelter, water- the Man will take it all away if you have no money to pay for it.
Thank god we can still breathe free.... but of course that doesn't help much if we have no water...

Municipal water delivery and sanitation systems are quite costly, of course. Costly in power terms, money terms, and human life terms. In that order. Don't get me wrong- I think that municipal systems are a very good idea; in fact municipalities are certainly the best system we have for distributing water to humans. But it'll cost you- and that's where I get off the boat. In my town, the water billing office is behind double bullet-proof glass. Warning signs blanket the walls: no swearing, no guns, no violence. It's the only place at City Hall I've seen security gurads patrolling. I guess people who pay their water bills in person tend to be angry. I guess they want water.

How can it be that $ come before humans? How can it be that what's so freely shared with us from the earth we live on can be controlled by others? Or that "municipalities" will actually cut off water to members of the municipality that don't pay what they demand?

The usual answers are on the order of "Well, someone has to pay for it" or "That's the only system we got, we just need to work with the system" and "if you don't vote, you got nothin to say about it". Oh, I say. Just work within the only system we've got. Vote. Stay in the system that is relentlessly, inexorably controlling and parcelling out earth-given resources for those of us who're lucky enough to be able to pay in $. Leave six hundred sixty million humans on the earth- now, this minute- with no water. Working with the system seems to take a little too much time here- it reminds me of the twenty-seven people who recently spent three days clinging to a tuna net at sea while three countries argued about who'd be responsible for rescuing them. While the fisherman harvested the tuna from the nets. While the twenty-seven humans fought for their lives.

Of course, I could no more send rations of water around the world than I could send my childhood leftovers to the starving children in China who'd be glad to have it- but that doesn't stop me, or any of us, from actively seeking solutions outside the hegemony of Capitalism.

Here's what I'm doing:
First of all, I'm re-using water. Gray water is a perfectly acceptable way to water the garden. I siphon the water from the big tub I use for bathing into the garden; Kola's made ditches and tilted planes in the planting beds so water that's run in flows and seeps down to the plant's roots. I use biocompatible soap- my preferred is Dr Bronner's castille. Ivory's also biocompatible.
Second, I'm planning a rainwater harvest system. Yes, it'll take some $- and when it's in place, the sky will give us water! Want some?

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Noxious, Obnoxious, & Flat-Out Poison

Some plants are just not OK for naturalizing.... few food plants are on the list, thank god. The ones that ARE on the list are generally plants, like spurge, that are classified "exotic"- plants that nauturalized themselves after being shiiped in from somewhere else. Spurge has exploding pods that spread a great distance- it blankets some California hills, looks brilliantly colorful when it's in bloom, and chokes sunlight from other plants, so that a field or hillside of spuge has no other plants around it. Here's a link to the California list:

Others, of course, are flatout poison. These won't just make you sick- they'll actually KILL you. We've probly all heard stories of experts dying from eating wild mushrooms..... but that's not all. Foxglove, mostly cultivated in gardens but also seen wild in fields, is digitalis- the same drug that slows and strengthens our heartbeat; a great savior for someone with congestive heart failure when given in tiny, measured doses. Eating it indiscriminately could result in death.
Here's a good Hemlock photo- pretty plant, isn't it? It'd do to us what it did to Socrates- even touching the plant can be toxic. It's also called Water Hemlock and Cowbane- a beautiful plant that looks a lot like wild carrot, or Queen Anne's Lace; it could also be mistaken for the powerful medicinal Angelica. QR & I once pulled over into a little public park, where these beautiful tall white umbrelled plants were growing.... I wanted some for vases, but the stems were too tough to just break off, and I had no clippers or knife, so thought I'd use my handy teeth and just bite em off. I was bent over a stem when I noticed the purple splotches.... isn't there something about purple splotches and poison?!? Happily, I listened to myself, and didn't bite em- I'd be dead or very sick by now if I had. The purple splotches are an indicator of Hemlock; none of the look-alikes have em.

So what to do? Don't touch or eat any but corporate plants in case we might be poisoned? I think NOT. We're clearly at risk from corporate foods, anyway- supposedly benign, nutritious lettuce, spinach and peanutbutter have already caused death and illness in the US this year. Best thing for forage plant safety is knowledge, and fortunately it's available to us. Books like Peterson's field guides are very detailed, with particular identifiers for each plant, so it's easy to identify the poison ones. There're many fine sites online, too- some with detailed photos.
Bottom line is- corporate foods or not- know what you eat.