Mushroom Hunting on E 118th

While walking the dog around the block today, Daniel came across these beautiful fresh oyster mushrooms growing on a neighbor's tree on E 118th St.  This was definitely a communication from the mushroom world to keep walking our dog around the block!

Blight

I have been thinking (and confronting) a lot about garden hygiene lately.  It's not usual that people don't connect hygiene with gardening, considering everyday when I'm done with gardening I'm about dirty from head to toe!  But when I got grossed out and made a big fuss because of some dust mites I encountered in the house a couple weeks ago, Danny told me "seems like the insect world is communicating with you; they have something to tell you."  At the time, I was not interested in having any conversation with these insects.  About a day before, I was cleaning up some trash outside and picked up something that was covered with lively, vigorous maggots!  I'm not sure I can completely explain to you to what degree that still makes me uncomfortable to think about.  So, not quite ready to encounter the insect world head on, and listen to what it told me- I encountered again the cucumber beetle in the garden.  And this time, it seemed to be that if I didn't listen to what this insect was telling me, I might as well give up on the whole garden (considering their hosts can be almost all the things we are growing)!

I began investigating- what is this bug, what do they do, do I need to get rid of them, and how!  Unfortunately, I found that they are foes to our vegetables, and can be effectively rid of by picking off by hand and squishing them!  Now, despite several years of gardening, I still get squeamish at the thought of squishing insects... the way their bodies explode under your fingertips, and the juices!  EEEECK!  When we had a serious potato beetle infestation a couple years ago, Danny hand-picked them all, faithfully every morning, and saved our potato plants from utter destruction- we even had a harvest that last us through the Winter!   Yet, here I am, struggling to pick off these bugs, just so that we can have any harvest at all!  What were the cucumber beetles doing in the first place that makes them so  bad?  Maybe they can just live off the pumpkin plants a little longer, and maybe we'll get a few less pumpkins, but then I won't have to squish them at least?

This is where bacterial wilt came in.  While doing some research, I learned from the Ontario Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs that: "Unmated adult beetles spend the winter in the shelter of fencerows, debris and leaf litter in surrounding wooded areas. These adults emerge from cover early in the spring and can be found on dandelions, wild cucumber and wild plum before vine crops are planted. If they have fed on plants in the fall that were infected with bacterial wilt, the bacteria will pass the winter in the intestines of the beetle, ready to enter vine crops when the beetle begins feeding on them in the spring. There is no control for bacterial wilt. The only way to control this wilt is by controlling the beetle."  Another website suggested explicitly to clean up debris and leaf litter, to make the place more hygiene, as to make the place less welcome for these foe.  And if our plants already have bacterial wilt (I first saw it on the zucchini plants), and I don't want it to spread anymore, there is nothing left to do, but "control the beetle."  

A particularly interesting suggestion, as to consider "controlling" these cucumber beetle and other insects (later the squash bug has arrived in the picture, as well) has not been the first time we've considered how to "control" offenders in this abandoned  lot turned garden.  This brings me to hygiene.  It is true that cleaning up the weeds that surround the plants will support these plants.  Bugs have been having a party in this garden- there are weeds everywhere!  Grass, plantain, dandelion, wild daisies, and more to house, host, hide, feed and create a very welcoming environment to hang out in.  But hygiene in this lot has a greater purpose here than just keeping out the cucumber beetle and squash bug.  It also has to do with other forms of "blight."

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"Blight," a term in this neighborhood often used to refer to foreclosed and abandoned houses falling into disrepair.  It is also associated with trash & litter, shady behavior, drug abuse, all things attracted to abandoned "blighted" lots.  If one understands "blight" as connected to a form of social "disease," if you will, it's easy to see how this garden on this abandoned lot is vulnerable to blight, as well.  The plants in the garden are literally vulnerable to blight and disease because of the weeds in the lot, but they are also vulnerable to the "blight" of the social degeneration because there is miscellaneous traffic through this lot next that is next to an abandoned house on a street with other abandoned houses.  And we have seen case in point where more "weeds" attract "pests" that can harbor degeneration.  Said simply, litter attracts more litter.  And when an abandoned lot around here is left with lots of trash, that is usually enough of an indicator that a space has been neglected enough that some illegal action can transpire there and it will easily go unseen because no one is caring for the space.  I've witnessed that directly with people dumping trash behind the abandoned house next door, and kids attempting to stash stolen (or "hot") bikes in the house for later retrieval.  

The "blighted" abandoned house by the lot next to our house.  (view from our stairwell)

The house has since been gutted, and the fence in this photo taken down.

So two days ago, while I squashed cucumber beetles and squash bugs on the pumpkin plants to help cut down the wilt disease, Daniel cleaned up piles of debris and demo materials around the abandoned house to help discourage shady activity.  We were keeping good "hygiene."

To close, I feel its essential to leave a note that doesn't ignorantly imply that the way to "solve" the problems of this or any "blighted" neighborhood is to "squash the pests"- aka throw people in jail.  Nor do I mean to say that creating sterile spaces, is the way to create thriving communities - often referred to as gentrification.  To the contrary.  We still need weeds and a bit of wildness, to let things grow organically (botanically & socially speaking), and we can do that by encouraging the weeds that bring beneficial insects.  For example, our friend Red Clover brings bumble bees, and what an essential role that insect plays to the garden!  As for socially, by getting rid of the "weeds" of wrapper trash and beer cans, and instead replacing it with other used elements of the neighborhood- like a wood chip path, we, too, are encouraging the beneficial activity of the space.  It's one theory anyway, as simple as it is.  But I will add that its really been nice to experience how the more the garden expands and grows, the more friendly and open people seem to become.  Renewing the Earth, renewing ourselves. []

Squash the squash bug

 Meet the Squash Bug ...

                                                                     and her babies

Which Path Are You On?

After an evening of observing the garden and lot from the upstairs porch on a clear night and a full moon, we decided to just go after it.  The lot has been used as a path, or "cut," from E 117th to E 118th since before we moved here.  When we moved in, there were two fences at the back of the lot- a tall, wooden one at the backyard of the house on E 118th, and a mid-height chain-link one with green ribbon on the back of the abandoned lot.  The chain-link one was falling down a bit, when we got here, but that didn't stop anyone from using the bent, spiky wire as a step to help climb over the wooden fence.  It became clear early on that the way that this fence was being used, it wasn't going to last long. When we moved in, I think there was an initial hesitation to jump over the fence while we were present.  There had been a standard set before that "cutting" was not really acceptable, despite that everyone was doing it.  The fact that Daniel & I not only didn't seem to mind the cutting, we also endorsed it in some way by greeting everyone as they went back and forth.  Frankly, it makes a lot of sense that there is a path in between the lot and this backyard, because there is a family that lives half on E 117th with the other half (or at least another portion of it) lives in that house on E 118th with its backyard to the abandoned lot.  That being said, while kids were hopping over it one day, I said "we should just put a gate in, don't you think?  It's not gonna last."  The one guy agreed, and got scared for a moment at the thought of the fence collapsing underneath him.

The view of the back of the lot from the back of our house 

(before we bought the house in March 2012).  Both layers of the fence were still up.

A close-up view of the fence as it slowly started to come down. 

You can see on the right where the metal fence was used as a step to hop the wooden fence.

Fast forward to a year later, and a large - about 4' wide - section of the wooden fence is gone, and the wire fence collapsed so much that Daniel cut it out and removed the hazardous metal- leaving a wide open gap.  Where Mamas & babies had to climb over scraggly pile of broken fence, now they push their strollers through with a sister friend by their side.  Where young boys hung off the edge, legs dangling above the rusty stuff- now they move smoothly through on bikes playing around the street.  Opening up that fence changed the reality of the space immensely, and highlighting the well-used path with wood mulch yesterday, changed it again.

In the background is the view of the fence when the wooden section has come down, 

and the metal fence is mostly to the ground.  This photo was taken in April, not long before the rest of the dangly metal fence was cut out.

That was what we did.  We saw it was time to just let this path be what it was- not let it be a wishy-washy path, but a real path, that was encouraged with wood chips.  The soil had become so worn along the path, because of all the foot traffic, and the wood chips will help to create soil as it breaks down, and to change the wear of the lot.  The wood chip mulch also made it very clear to anyone who was looking that "this is a path."

Interestingly, today, the neighbor with his backyard to the lot (and the broken wooden fence, who uses the path regularly throughout the day), put his big trash & recycling bins in front of the gap as to block the entrance.  In talking with him tonight about his thoughts, he said he doesn't really want it to be a path for strangers- just people who live in the house - so he thought the bins would discourage strangers from coming through.  The only downside being that now anyone who passes through has to push aside two giant (and a bit stinky) garbage & recycling bins.  Daniel & our neighbor talked about the situation and brainstormed some possibilities - essentially coming up with that a gate is what is the best to go after.  Maybe the gate even has a key that only their family has a key to.  Whatever the situation ends up being, it seems it may be very helpful- if not only possible- for a gate to manifest itself if Daniel stays involved.  So he will most likely.

The thing that struck me the most was how interesting the wood chips changed the approach of the neighbor.  Despite that the cut has been used as a path daily, throughout the day, for months- and over a year now, when we took the step to acknowledge it as a path publicly (by putting wood chips down), the neighbor was able to express more of what he had initially felt when his wooden fence came down in the first place: he wanted the gap closed up.  And yet, despite that our neighbor had expressed that to us before, no action was taken to block the gate, until we helped make it clear that this cut is a real path; therefore, implying that if one doesn't want there to be a path, then they have to take action to make it go away.  And since our neighbor didn't really want a path in the first place, the wood chips helped him to see the path for what it is- and to take action to stop the path from existing (or at least, to alter the path with a gate).

In short, by keeping on our Path (spiritual/destiny/visionary path, if you will), we acted as a catalyst for our neighbor to stay on his Path which included voicing his ideas of how to repair his fence (including going to Habitat for Humanity, where he used to work, to find a cheap gate to install).  I take this to be an important reminder for all the relationships we share with others in this life.  Listen to your heart, stick to your Path, and others will have a better ability to follow their true path, too.  That doesn't mean that you won't run into a garbage can every now and again.

Goodnight to the Big Moon,  

Diana

Midnight Gardening & Creating Space

PART ONE

For a mama with a young baby, it can be hard to find a good opportunity to work out in the garden, seeing as being with Baby makes it impossible to spend much time, if any, out in the sun on hot days.  Therefore, much of the time left to care for the garden is when Mama gets a break from caring for Baby.  That's on a few occasions: during naptime, when people visit who want to spend time with Rosemary, and when Rosemary goes to bed for the night.  Hence, what I like to call "midnight gardening."  With monitor nearby, I am able to get much of the work done that I wouldn't otherwise, and with the sun typically set, it's much cooler out also.  The hours typically run from 9:30 pm to what was 12:30 am the other night.  In our neighborhood, this can be particularly interesting.

I'm sure my mother wouldn't want to read this post, because, frankly, this is just the stuff that makes her worry.  I am a white woman in a black neighborhood.  Already sticking out quite a bit just by setting up a big garden, building a greenhouse off the house, hanging out with the kids on our street, coming home with carloads of trash to reuse, painting our house yellow with blue shutters, etc, being white also makes us stick out, too.  But that hasn't meant that we've found people to be unfriendly or antagonistic by any means.  To the contrary, we know pretty much everyone on our street by name, and people are quite friendly and warm.  One neighbor to Daniel said "I know you all are different," though it seemed to have been said in an accepting way- not a move-out-of-my-neighborhood-way.  Also, having opened up the cut-through point on our street, by helping to break down the broken fence, and by creating this green space that is walked through consistently throughout the day, we've made a lot of friends.  That being said, there is a lot of fear that exists about "The Other."  Look specifically at Cleveland, and one sees, quite starkly, a very segregated city with very little cross-over.  Some areas have some integration, but on the East side of Cleveland, there are clear borders of black and white, rich and poor, etc etc.  Buckeye is a neighborhood that has got somewhat of a notorious reputation, especially south of Buckeye, which is where we live.  One man, a black man who lives in East Cleveland, actually- a neighborhood I've heard referred to as "The Wild West" because things have gotten so dilapidated, abandoned, and wild - when he heard that I lived in Buckeye, he said to me, very shocked- "you live in Gangsterville?!"  I just laughed and said, "what?  Don't I look like a gangster?"  It was surprising to me, that even this man seemed to express some fear or hesitation about being in this neighborhood.  And again, our first housemate, a former felon who lived with us after 17 years in federal prison, was also hesitant to move into our house with us, because of our neighborhood, saying "those guys are bad over there."  And yet, this has not felt like the situation whatsoever here.

That being said, I, as a younger white woman, don't go out by myself at night.  I don't walk around at night much at all, actually.  The scene changes enough at night on Buckeye, that I'm not the only one who doesn't walk around much at night.  However, I have started gardening late at night.  This is the time I have available, I need to make it work.  At night, when I garden- and sometimes in the early evening, too, I feel the need to look over my shoulder frequently- even though my dog, Nuva, is typically nearby keeping watch.  It's a strange experience to be doing something that is relaxing to me, like gardening, and yet be in a stressful environment where I don't feel I can completely put my guard down.

So, it was interesting when a big gang of guys, shirtless and in white tees, about 20 young men, walked through the garden around midnight.   I know a few of the guys, especially two of them, by name.  The most out-spoken, and seems to be more of a leader of the group, "Jo-Jo" often asks how the baby is, where's my husband, etc.  He's got a friend that introduced himself to Danny as "Shoot 'em," and when I see the mob of a group, I'm pretty sure they're included in the bunch.  

I was squatted, weeding in the center of the garden, under the big tree, with my back to the other abandoned lot with the abandoned house on it.  As the group rounds the bend in front of our house, Nuva gets up sleepily (it was past her bedtime) to stand at attention.  I stand up, too.  Mostly just to give my knees a break, but there is also a part of me, in the split second decision of whether to see if I can stay hidden amongst the garden beds, or stand and be seen- I chose the latter.  I think both Nuva & I's rising scares some of the guys.  One steps back- "woaah."  And another says "nah, it's cool, that's my nigga."  I take that as a compliment, even though I'm not sure if he's referring to Nuva or me, I know it means that I'm nothing to be afraid of.  That's when I realize the irony of the moment.  This scene, where I could potentially be in an incredibly vulnerable position- one female out late in a pretty vacant lot, when a big gang of guys walks through... I do my best to not play out the potential situations in my head- despite always keeping aware  to be mindful and present of the possibilities.  So, in spite of this vulnerability and fear I feel, at first glance, these men are afraid of me, and then disarmed by my strange behavior of gardening so late.  Jo-Jo says to me "y'all garden all night long!"  (or did he say "y'all garden all day long").  Either way, the fear is diffused for the moment, as it's clear there's no ill-intention directed towards me, and if anything, there's some moderate protection for me as a gardener.  And how is it that these men could feel fear as they saw me spring up from the garden, when shouldn't it be me who should be the more fearful one?  It feels like an important moment of facing fears, of disarmament, of creating a new paradigm.  

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PART TWO

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I went inside not too much later after that.  In reflection, looking at the garden from the upstairs, I realized the garden space is bigger than me and bigger than anything we are doing in it.  It is the creation of space.  A safe space is my hope.

I am haunted by a story I heard from Buckeye's history.  It was during the time when this neighborhood was transitioning from "Old Hungary," named for its primary residents of Hungarian (and Czech) people to the present majority Black population.  I think it was in the 80's when the transition was happening.  Maybe the 90's?  Well, one story was of an old Hungarian woman who was beat to death by some black men in her garden.  It's a horrible story, and I don't know where the truth lies with it, but I do know at the time when things were transitioning from Hungarian to Black- there was a lot of conflict, antagonism, and turmoil.  The Cleveland history books seem interested in leaving this period of history out of the records (see the Cleveland's history of Buckeye book for an example of this).  This is much like Cleveland's history in general that hasn't addressed any conflicts that have arisen due to racism, injustice and violence (hence, much of the city's segregation & fear of other neighborhoods).  So, what is it with this garden space that seems to make it different?

For one thing, this garden is not just my garden.  With there being a major pedestrian traffic route right through the garden, the folks on this street interact with this space on a daily basis.  So, even if at times, there may be some fear from folks on this street as to whether its okay or not to pass through (there are a few people who tend to ask me for permission to pass through before they do), everyone must encounter this different form of life, this different paradigm of a transformed vacant lot into this garden of possibilities- even if they're a bit scared to, and aren't sure if they're welcome.  Likewise, I, and Daniel, Noah and any other people who come to our house & help in the garden, therefore, must interact with the folks on this street- whether or not we are afraid or not.  This garden is the creation of a space where different cultures can interact- even if they are afraid of each other.  There are other feelings connected, too, not just fear- maybe anger, resentment, uncertainty, assumptions.  And of course, also, excitement, curiosity, wonder, joy, hope, attraction.  And this garden creates a very interesting space to explore what happens when different people meet.  Perhaps more than growing enough food for our family or maybe even our street to eat, this is what is important: the space it creates where everyone is welcome, even if there's no sign printed declaring that.  The same way that the pumpkins, basil, boc choy, and sunflowers are treated with the same love, so must be the people.  

I felt a true testament to this last night, when I happened to be observing the garden from the upstairs window, when I noticed a young man hanging out in the garden.  He was looking at his cell phone, and seemed to be anxiously, maybe even kind of nervously, waiting to meet up with someone, looking over his shoulder like I do sometimes.  It was the moment and the way that his shoulders seemed to relax when he sat down, leaning on the cooler transformed into a raised bed for tomatoes, that I realized he felt more comfortable to wait in the garden, by the flowers and vegetables, than to wait in the street under the street lights.  The garden was a safe space for him.

Serendipitously, the night before, while observing the garden from the stairwell window, I realized that a bench was needed in center of the garden, right by that tomato bed where that man leaned the following night.  He had envisioned that need, just as I did.  The next day, I was sure to move a bench sitting by the abandoned house, right in that spot by the pathway, by the tomato bed.  Now, if someone needs a moment and space, they are welcome to sit.  []

It's raining.... thank you!!

Processing Garlic

Today, I pulled the garlic, harvested beginning of July, out of the attic where it had been drying, cut the stems off, and stored them in a crate for the long haul.  It was a good garlic crop, growing enough to eat  a head of garlic a week- not bad!  Though, that doesn't count what I'll pull out for seed.

Which brings me to "processing garlic," and what that really means.  It means planning for the future.  It means saving for what's to come.  Hoping for a future.
With the land's future here in question, it also puts so many things for me into question.  In some ways, I feel like that garlic that is growing, growing, growing, and is growing so much that it starts to reach out and up towards the sky a stem for a flower to blossom.  The scape.  And I know that if I don't snip this reaching, this "going to seed," I will loose the strength that's to be had in my roots.

Ironically, this summer, I harvested the garlic scapes with three kids from our street: Shawn, Ty, & Mo. It was a good and fitting task for them that they seemed to enjoy.  Snip, snip, snip and we had a basketful.  Then, we came to the bed that at the time was the front of the garden.  I had planted garlic specifically there last Fall because I knew the garlic is the first thing to show its green growth and thriving self, and I wanted that to be the first thing that people on the street could see in the Spring.  I wanted people to remember last year's growing beauty, I wanted to get the momentum rolling with that spirit in the Spring.  So, there we came, to the front bed with the garlic bursting out.  They were the biggest garlic scapes out of the whole crop- maybe the best soil & best sun- maybe they just liked the special attention out front like that.  They were the best heads to use as seed for the next Fall.  Though, when Ty asked me "what happens if we don't cut this?"  I explained to him that it flowers and goes to seed.  I had seen pictures, as in this print by Peter Schumann of Bread & Puppet Theater:

but I had never seen it in person.  So, I said to Ty, yeah, OK, let's leave it.  Don't cut it.  Let's watch the flower grow.  See what happens.

Frankly, it ended up not being that much of a spectacular experience, I don't think Ty would have even noticed had I not pointed it out to him.  The most interesting thing was just how tall it grew.  So tall, and strong, that little flower stem.  And the flower was incredibly understated.  Mostly white, with a white covering that slowly revealed the seed heads.  Small little buds popped out with seed to tickle the finger tips.  Of course, I knew that those seeds, if planted, were not to become the virile garlic cloves that these had birthed it.  But I wondered- ah, perhaps, this is how one breeds new kinds of garlic- by letting them go to seed, cross-pollinating, opening up whole new worlds of possibility.

This is how I feel about the Project we have been working at here.  Who is to know what will come of this place, if the garden will remain in the future, or remain for even long at all.  Much like the head of garlic, it too will need to be harvested one day, or else left to rot in the ground.  Either way, just by this garden existing in the first place, a similar process is happen as that garlic going to seed.  We may not produce the strong future of a garden and culture that thrives in gardeners and home food producers just by planting this garden here in "the hood," but just by "going to seed," or exploring new possibilities with planting this garden on an otherwise desolate and abandoned lot of land in a low-income black neighborhood,  we are allowing ourselves to "cross-pollinate" and create new populations and strains of life that we wouldn't even know exist otherwise.  It is a similar metaphor as "planting a seed," where you may not see the changes you have created in something for years and years to come- and even then, you may never witness the greatness of a redwood when you see a small seed riding the breeze. 

So, there it is.  With the future unclear of this place, I look to the garlic flower, to the seed, to the garlic, to the scape, and keep faith that things are bigger than what I can see or know.  I will think on the future garlic crop, enjoy the fresh garlic now, and look to the flower in the front of the lot, and know it's dropping its seeds with every wind.