We skipped two Thursday Community Dinners in a row, due to other considerations, so we figured we might be looking at lots of people. Well, we were!
Neighbor Mariella (who took all the photos, thank you!) brought a friend from Ohio who may move to Bloomington in the spring. She’s on the extreme left in the above photo.
Before the hordes descended Mariella took photos of various individuals and couplings, including Eva and her Aunt Sophia and Mom Wanda. Sophia spends part of her year in Canada, and goes back next week.
Then there’s John, who was here for the first time, and felt a bit shy . . . He had told us that he wanted to live here, and and we said, come to Dinner first, and we’ll see how we fit!
Then Eric huddled with him during dinner . . .
. . . and so, by the end, he relaxed! Mariella caught this shot of the two of them.
We all appreciate John. He’s in. Will arrive September 1. And, he says, will join next Tuesday morning’s work party before that!
Great pic of Marita, filling her plate from the greatly depleted food tables.
Me. (Ann K.)
Me (Ann K.)
Back to the dinner . . .
Yes. A great time was had by all. So happy that our little Green Acres Village can provide a regular meeting space on our patio (which used to be a basketball court, after all, it’s Indiana!) for many many months of each year. The Thursday evening dinners are now so much a part of the rhythm of community life that, when we miss even one, I have a hard time remembering what day it is.
Life in our tiny urban paradise mid-summer revolves around the gardens, with not just kale and chard, two kinds of basil, mustard greens, beans, cabbage, summer squash, corn, and tomatoes and more — all ripe or ripening for harvest. And of course, onions and garlic! The arugula and lettuces are done, supplying salads for weeks. We’re trying to grow beets and carrots now. Plus winter squash. And we’re finally getting serious about saving seeds, setting up a table, little envelopes, and a filing system.
I’ve been making pesto with the burgeoning basil for several weeks, adding turmeric root.
A few days ago, I decided to freeze more kale, and picked three different varieties. Left to right: curly kale, siberian kale, and lacinato. Siberian kale is hardy enough to last through the winter. Much of what we’re harvesting this year is from last year’s crop.
Dan (The Dan who lived here for five years) took three more cabbages for his famous sauerkraut, of which he’ll give us another jar or two.
Even the purple cabbages are starting to show heads. So beautiful! Like a mandala.
The bush bean harvest is overwhelming. Harvesting morning and evening. Sharing them with neighbors, along with kale and chard.
But the corn. The corn! Our first harvest. Daniel, puppy Shadow, and me, admiring. Notice the ear he’s holding is yellow . . . I think it was the only one! More on this coming right up . . .
We decided to cook the corn for last Thursday’s Community Dinner. Notice, the seemingly white shirt next to Dan, next to a plate with strange purple leavings . . .
Well, it turns out that the other ears were thin, mottled purple and yellow . . . but the taste! Wonderfully sweet even before cooking.
Eating the corn, the purple stained our hands . . .
Eva, me, and “the two aunties,” Eva’s Mom and Aunt, Sophia and Wanda, were all sitting around a table. Wondering. Hmmm! Can the purple be used as a dye? Hmmm . . . Eva: “Ann, go get a white teeshirt that we could experiment on!” I bring out a teeshirt that I got somewhere in Asia, and have not worn since. Have no idea what the writing on it conveys.
We went to town, rolling the cobs over and over the shirt, having great, and silly fun.
Meanwhile, two men, Jeff and Adam, were sitting, deep in conversation, at the most shaded table. Off somewhere else, Joseph was showing somebody how to wield the large wand he dances with on the patio. For many of us, all of a sudden, it seemed as if the evening had segued into some kind of party that involved working with, and talking about, materials or some kind . . .
I asked Dan if he would take a few pics of us rolling the cobs over the shirt, front and back, including the sleeves. Meanwhile, Eva and The Aunties were deep in conversation as to how to make sure the dye held. Two methods were deemed best: one, throw it in a very hot dryer for 20 minutes; two: boil it with 1/2 vinegar and 1/2 water. Still haven’t decided which method to use. Here’s the shirt. I sense I’m supposed to wear it at next week’s Community Dinner . . .
Two more items, one sad, one happy. The sad one, a burial place, covered with rocks so as not to get dug up, in one of our wild gardens: for the oldest chicken who finally got eaten, we think by a raccoon. Out of the original eight, we now have three left. Should we get more chickens? Ongoing debate.
And the happy item? Our beautiful little wildflower garden, planted into the hugelkulture constructed over the dangerous, yawning hole six feet? eight feet? deep. Two years ago, that hole had opened to the remains of an old septic system . . .
The above photo of the cabbage patch lining one of our hugelkulture beds was taken about two weeks ago.
Today, Daniel harvested the first one, and its a doozer!
I asked him how he worked with the issues we had with these cabbages. For the slugs, he said, he used diatomaceous earth. And for the cabbage caterpillars and moths, he used Bt. “What’s Bt”? I asked, and was alarmed when said it is an ingredient in Round-Up . . . but, that it’s okay. I looked it up. He’s right.
“Bio-pesticide.” Good to know the word. And it sure worked. Notice the holes in the outer leaves? That was before Bt. Those little white winged creatures are flying about now, but all of our brassicas are in much better shape this year, thanks to the Bt.
And with so many big beautiful cabbages, we’re already planning to make something cabbagey for Thursday’s weekly Community Dinner. By the way, Indiana has now decided to allow people to work out of their own kitchens without inspection, if they’re producing (unrefrigerated) baked goods and/or ferments for sale. YES! Fermented cabbage, here we come. But we’ll have to get a tutorial from the other Daniel, the one who lived here for five years. He’s a total expert on the process.
So that’s the big reveal during this morning’s two-hour work party, on another extremely hot, humid day. Here are Joseph, watering, and Marita, weeding.
There are lots more photos of lots of happenings around here — including private Summer Solstice and New Moon events, more on the Gift Exchange table out front, the work party that got all the old wood off in neighbor Dave’s truck to the dump, plus Community Dinner photos — but I want to learn how to put them into collages, rather than one by one — and don’t have time right now. Grrrr . . .
Our dear Rebecca (aka Charisse), who lived here for ten years and was the person who designed and directed the execution of the gardens and paths, patios, etc. around here, while holding this Green Acres Village in her mind and heart the entire time, three years ago started to get restless. She searched to and fro for what she wanted to do next, but to no avail. Two winters ago, she even spent a few months in the Arizona desert in a giant tent with her two dogs, trying to come to terms with her desire to get going again.
At the end of this sojourn she returned, stayed another year, and then, determined to do what she told me recently, she only now realizes she has done all her life — move every ten years! — she decided to just pack up and go. Preparations for her departure went on for months, both within her, and within this place. Several going away parties were held. Several young men who used to live here came by to help us pack the 18-foot U Haul she had decided to rent, in order to take with her everything she owned, including a gigantic three piece couch, and three kilns that she had not ever been able to get working here. And of course, her rat terrier dogs, and her Maine Coon cat, Max. And, yes, hauling her car on a platform behind the truck, with cat in carrier on seat between her and dogs.
I’ll never forget the morning she took off. A bunch of us were standing there, astonished, at her surety and deftness (how to turn a corner? how to back up?) at handling that very long apparatus that she had chosen to blast her out of here and once again, into the unknown.
She did have a destination, one of her cousins on the west coast, who had invited her to live with her. But then issues with the vax soon reared up between them and she took off again, this time without knowing where she would land. After several more months in sketchy situations (both long stories worth their own telling), she decided to apply for a position that actually utilized her vast experience and considerable skills. (Up until this time, she had been an Uber driver, then a Lift driver, etc.) She decided to apply for a job that would be “beyond my wildest dreams” if she got it. In order to apply she needed a reference, and for me, that was easy and obvious: I just went around this place and paid attention to all that she had accomplished over those ten years, as permaculture garden designer, manager, and guide/overseer of the young people who are attracted to this place and want to participate in our “growing community from the ground up” lifestyle.
Well, guess what . . . She got the job. The one beyond her wildest dreams. In Hawaii, and perfectly suited for all the skills and many decades of experience she can bring now to her new life. The first month, March, was the trial month, so she left her animals temporarily with her cousin. But I guess she must be working out fine there, because here’s what she posted on her facebook page, this morning.
I’ve said for a long time that Rebecca/Charisse is by far the most resilient person I have ever known. Starting when she was 17, she took off on her own and for awhile even ended up “riding the rails.” I’m sure her entire life story would be worth the telling, and I hope she does so, some day.
