Things I Can Cross Off My List--but not in the normal way

So the mason bees aren't happening. I've just got too much on my plate these days. It's probably too late at this point anyway. Mason bees emerge from their cocoons about mid-March (now) and only live for a couple of months. By June they're all gone.

Right now my taxes and applying for a home loan are taking up all my mental energy and time.

I'm requesting some assistance in moving my Huge-o Leaf Pile to the back garden so it'll finally get done. My lawns desperately need mowing, and I thought about it yesterday and the day before--two of the first beautiful sunny days this year--but I didn't think it was really dry enough to mow.

"Maybe another day or two of sunny weather," I thought. And then it rained last night. Sigh.

On the bright side, this blog post has highlighted two things so far that I can "cross off" my list. No need to get the mason bees, or mow my lawns. (Though the mowing will have to be added to another list very soon.)

I've also decided I'm not going to start seeds this year. I am going to the Lane County Propagation Fair next weekend though. I'll probably get all inspired to start tomatoes and pepper seeds anyway, but my current plan is to buy starts for my container garden.

Speaking of container gardens, here's a container you may not of thought of:

(source: www.fungi.com)

Ali, my friend Tamara, and I are all going to a Shitake Mushroom workshop tomorrow in Cottage Grove at Cascadia Permaculture.

I wanted to say that the plugged log I get to take home with me at the end would be the first container in my container garden this year, but I thought of another.

I want to remind myself that while bringing flowers inside isn't gardening, it is enjoying nature and I do love bringing it inside with me.

These flowers were put in their "container" the day before yesterday.

Spring Equinox isn't until next week, but She sure has poked her faerie fingers in the Eugenian soil in my neighborhood. My magnolia tree is pushing out buds, and my raspberry canes are sporting teeny leaves. And so has my climbing rose bush, among other things.

I'm still sitting in front of my HappyLite (as I type this, in fact), but soon I'll be able to shelve it for the sunny months.

I'll be sure to post pictures and prose on the mushroom workshop next.

Thanks for stopping by.

***

p.s. And just for those of us still pining and thinking of Costa Rica, here is a short video on a great addition to anyone's permaculture garden:

Winter Derailment, and News From the Landlord

So the guy that talked to me about the "free compost" from the City? You know, the leaves? Well I don't know if I'm doing that next year. I had ONE LOAD of leaves (hereafter called Huge-o Pile) delivered at the beginning of December--which only leaves two months to compost over the garden before you're supposed to be planting sugar snap peas (February). Hmm. Who thought that up? That's not enough time. Especially when two snow and ice storms come during the Winter, you have to borrow a wheelbarrow to haul the leaves because the pulling them through the yards on a tarp didn't work, and it takes you thirty minutes at a time to haul three miserly batches to the garden. Those huge heaps-o-waterlogged-leaves in the wheelbarrow don't cover very much garden space. About a 2X2 foot square I'd say.

Complete waste of time.

I still have an enormous mound of them in my driveway (making it so Ali can't park there), and it's the end of February. I've got two writer's conferences to get to in the next two and a half weeks, and my 40th birthday party to plan. Planting peas isn't going to happen anytime soon. And what am I going to do with pile?!

Move them to the garden, of course. BUT, it'll probably take me until July. No worries though, because it's looking like I'll be needing to move after all.

Landlord decided to sell, and I'm not eligible for a VA loan like I was hoping. Plan B is in force, and now I'm just at the waiting stage.

Which is my very favorite part.

Or, since I didn't do my Spanish practice today (or yesterday, or the day before): mi parte muy favorito.

This also means that, once again, I'll either be planning a move--or moving--during the planting/gardening stage of the year. Harrumph!

Ali says not to worry, We'll container garden.

Spreading the leaves seems superfluous now, but still needs to be done before moving, I figure. I'm sure the landlord would have something to say if I didn't move them. Plus, having the "garden" composting under leaves means that I don't have to weed-eat the area. Win!

Moving, or maybe not moving (probably I won't know for months--which is highly irritating because I can't pre-plan anything), prevents me from starting on the permaculture model I wanted in my back yard. I'm not going to work on the garden or chicken fence now. Nor get chickens. And I'm certainly not going to plant any fruit trees. Or collect rain water in giant barrels I haven't acquired yet.

I could still prune the roses and the blueberries and raspberries. And it's possible to get a $40 "green house" from BiMart and start tomato and pepper plant seeds. I can plant them in pots and give away the  extras I won't need. And I can plant annuals in my flower box in the front yard. I can plant herbs in the kitchen, too.

I'll keep it smaller than I anticipated (by a long shot), until I know where we'll be living. Then the garden/permaculture planning can start anew! Other ideas: if I can't buy a house, or find a rental that has garden space, I will container garden the whole way (a bunch of pots all together look really cool),

and/or garden in Ali's space (if he hasn't moved in with us by then.)

Yeah.

It's sounding like container gardening is where I'm going this Spring/Summer. I have a reference book on it I bought years ago. I guess it's time to check into it. Start thinking about, anyway.

Look back next week for a post on Mason Bees and Container Gardening Plano Numero Uno.

Fingers-Crossed-Snow-Days

So I got my leaves delivered from the City of Eugene, and it promptly snowed six inches on top of the pile. It's eight degrees here today.

Needless to say my garden is under snow, too, and I won't be mulching it with leaves today. Next weekend is full of parties, and Ali will be back from India by then, so I'll be slobbering all over him.
The following weekend is Solstice, with all the celebratory plans that come with it.

Maybe I can get to spreading leaves on the last weekend of the month.

And one other update: I have an interested party biting at the Osa Mountain Village lot for sale. It's been three years since it's been on the market. It sure would be nice to get it off our hands. The couple thinking about it has not yet made an offer, so it's still really iffy, but we'll wait and see.

Thank God for Small Favors and Wet Leaves

On Saturday, a couple of young acquaintances came over for lunch and a walk-through of my backyard. Our mission? To come up with a five year permaculture plan for the space.

I'll even get Base Maps for each stage! One translucent page after another, all falling in on each other and creating a layered plan encompassing all five years.

At the end of the five years, I want to have plenty of organic gardening common sense, and a thriving eco food forest and homestead.

Let the planning begin!

In our short two hour meeting, my visiting Young Friends (hereafter referred to as YF or YFs), and I toured my property (which I should remind you is rented), and poured over catalogs of flowering and fruiting trees and shrubs. I am in awe of all the cool thing that can grow in Zone 8 (Willamette Valley in Oregon.) We're talking: aronia, pineapple guava, seaberries, thornless blackberries (!), figs, grapes, kiwis, peaches, and asian pears. Our list was longer, but apparently Google hates me and I can't get into the Google Doc that Young Friends created for me AND be on Blogger at the same time. So we're pulling from memory here, Folks.

Late Fall, before it gets all frosty, is the time of the year for planting said trees and shrubs, but with limited income right now, I may have to suffice with drooling over catalogs and entering it into my five-year plan, for later.

It's also the time for the City of Eugene's Leaf Retrieval and Delivery Program. Hooray! Free compost! Here's what happens: two weeks out of the year (one week in November, and one in December), the City comes by with ginormous suction hoses and picks up all the leaves that people rake into the gutter. Actually, they prefer if you don't leave them in the gutter. More like side of the road leaf retrieval. They want you to leave a space for storm water draining and not to block the bike lanes.

During that same week, you can sign up on the City's website for a load of leaves to be dropped off. So not only do I have the leaves from my yard, but I'm getting a whole truckload of them delivered in a couple of weeks. 'Tis the season to mulch your garden with wet leaves from your neighbors! By Springtime, I shall be merrily follicking in leaf mulch compost.

And it's free.

Thank God for small favors and wet leaves.

Even though we didn't have time to come up with a delineated plan of action (checklists are best for me), I think I have enough to go on. I'll need help for part of it, but more in the form of moral support. I do know how to make a chicken run gate; I just don't want to do it by myself.

Since I didn't get a checklist from my Young Friends, I'm going to make one myself, because frankly, I don't feel comfortable without my lists to tell me what to do.

1. Get leaves delivered from City.

2. Smother garden area and flower beds with leaves (including leaves raked from my own trees.)

3. Get a few straw bales for gardening (just found some YouTube videos on Straw Bale Gardening and it sounds easy and cool.)

4. Make a list of trees and shrubs to put in next Fall.

5. Start looking for a rain barrel for water catchment system.

6. Design gates for the garden and chicken run and install. (Must be dog proof.)

7. Re-do garden fencing. (Must also be dog proof.)

If you come over and help me, I'll make you a hearty, home-cooked meal.

Projects

Indoor and Outdoor Projects 

I'm feeling like culling out some things in my house, or re-decorating on the cheap. Nothing new, of course. More like re-arranging. I have some art I want to put up, and some gadget-y things I don't want anymore.

And I'd like to get some more indoor plants for this winter. The ones I have are all dead, or looking pretty sad, and without the windows open to the summer sun and getting my blast of nature that way, I want to have some more living things inside this winter.

I'd like to have a winter garden, but friends have said that it's a little too late to plant for that now. Which I was totally surprised at. Now that I think of it, it's not though. The plants need to be in the warm ground long enough to establish a root system, so the the cold doesn't kill them off. This is our first week of Fall in Eugene, Oregon. It's cooled off enough for the heater in my bedroom to kick on a couple of times, and for my mind to start shifting to the chopping of firewood and kindling. But perhaps   our local Backyard Farmer shop still has some starts that I could put in the ground.

Other outside projects weighing on my mind these days are trimming the trees, shrubs, and rose bushes. Everything is overgrown and looking pretty gross. I can't even take out the compost without bending over in half to shuffle under the plum tree branches to get to the outdoor compost bin.

The other thing I really need to do is pick all the plums I have left on the trees and try to process them best I can. Dry them into prunes with the oven, and maybe even try my hand at plum jam, or even just freeze them after pitting them. That would take a long time to do though because I don't have a chest freezer.

This morning I felt inclined (on this rainy day) to make a pot of bean soup, and some fresh bread. Maybe I'll still have the gumption to do it. It's 2:30 p.m. I'd still have time to start a project that size, and then I can get in some furniture rearranging, and dog hair vacuuming.

Kombucha and Other Brews

My kombucha brewing is going well. I like the taste of it. I'm trying different brewing times and different teas, different bottling times. I'm not keeping any records except for one or two details, like I write down when I start brewing a new batch so I know when to bottle it up, and I label the bottles with when it was brewed and when it was bottled and what kind of tea it is, or if I've added juice to it. The rest I file away in my head -- which is dangerously apt to be forgotten.

Here's what I know:

1. I let it brew one week at least. The last batch I did for two weeks, so we'll see what that tastes like. It certainly fizzed more when I bottled it than any other batch.

2. I bottle for about a week before I refrigerate and drink it.

3. The first and last batch I made tasted the best. Remembered factors: I used decaf black english breakfast for the the last batch, and oolong tea for the first one. The yerba mate tasted good, too, just a little lighter. Less zing.

4. I don't like adding juice when I bottle it. I've tried cherry juice -- which was terribly sour. I gave it all away, couldn't drink any of it. Apple and pear juices made the kombucha too sweet for me. Perhaps I could use less juice and try again (current recipe I use is one quart of juice to one gallon of kombucha). But aside from the sweetness, it really seemed to mask the bite of the kombucha, which I like.

Maybe I could make both kinds though. Make some of the plain hard cider-y tasting kind for me and Ali, and make some for the kids with added juice. Probably they wouldn't like it anyway though.

Jun is another thing to try brewing. As I understand it, it's made the same way (with the scoby) but only using green tea (instead of black) and fermenting with honey (instead of sugar.)

I also found a recipe for making ginger beer (alcoholic and non) that I wanted to try. Maybe I'll turn my office pantry into shelves of brewing concoctions.

Homesteading Classes

Ali and I are going to take a soap (and maybe candle) making class at Glory Bees. And if I ever see a cheese-making class again, I'll get us in.

Spanish

In January, I'd like to get us in Spanish classes, too.

I personally am content to pick it up half-heartedly over the next six years and get a tutor once we are in Costa Rica. But this seems to be Ali's main concern. Not deciding what job to focus on there, not solidifying our land purchase, and not on becoming farmers now so we'll know how later, but speaking Spanish.

Yes, he's concerned about all those other things (and lots more), and we talk about them all periodically. But the conversation always seems to end with,

"But we don't even know Spanish yet."

As if none of the rest of it is relevant until this one Herculean task is accomplished. Like none of the rest of it is really real, unless we can speak the language first.

It's sweet actually. In a little boy sort-of way. And I'm happy to do things in this order if it brings him peace and order.

"I pride myself in my ability to communicate my ideas," he says.

 I don't mind learning Spanish now and it makes such a big difference to him. <3

Gardening Calendars and Brown Grass

My grass is brown and crunchy. I'm mildly embarrassed about it, but not enough to waste the environmental resource to water it. I wonder if I should start a rain barrel. You can attach them to your gutters now. I could use the rain water to irrigate the garden in the summer. The chickens could probably drink it, too.

The chickens. Yeah. That'll have to been next Spring. Unless I can get a gate made for the chicken run. It's hard enough to water the garden and pick produce before it goes bad. The gate is on temporary back burner status.

I've been traveling this past week, had a festival to attend the weekend before that, and the weekend before that I went camping at the Country Fair. Needless to say, my garden is looking a little ragged. Weeds, you know.

I'm recovering from travel this week, and catching up on some work, and there is a slight chance that I might spend this weekend on a house boat. So, garden work still seems grim. I have managed to have the dog sitter to water the garden while I've been gone, and Ali did it while I was gone this past week. The garden is therefore alive, but that's all. It's not thriving, if you know what I mean.

I think what happened was this: I direct-planted seeds, some too late in the season, and then didn't thin the plants when they came up. The result: small, stunted plants that have bolted already. I need to just plant some more plants. I can still get starts from the Farmer's Market probably. I'll pull out the spinach, broccoli, and lettuce. Thin the carrots, move the cucumbers, and hope for the best.

The plums are all in, ripening swiftly. I'd love to borrow a food dehydrator and dry them.

My indoor plants are suffering. I forget I need to water them more in the summer. I repotted them in the Spring, but one in particular is not doing well at all, and I killed the fern. I love ferns -- so lacy and green. And they seem so hardy, but I've killed every single fern I've ever purchased.

Once again I am RESOLVED to follow the Month by Month Gardening Book for Oregon. Also, this website has a great gardening calendar for Oregon.

"Brews and Books," Brainstorming, and *Surprise* Its a Garden!

In Eugene, I've been harvesting raspberries almost every day! They are PROLIFIC this year. I've already made jam, given some away, eaten some, given more away, and frozen some. And they are still ripening on the vines.

The blueberries aren't doing so well. I didn't fertilize them while they were flowering this Spring. And I only just un-choked them from the grass and weeds two days ago. They are fruiting, but not many.

The plums are going gang-busters. I have four or five trees, all with green fruit on them. By summer's end, they'll be dripping off the trees.

Blackberries are coming, and the strawberries have ended. The cherries are right now. But I don't know what variety they are. A tad too sour to eat for me -- though Ali likes them. And very small in diameter. Not worth pitting and making into jam.

Ali disagrees.

He picked a bag of them yesterday and promises to pit them by hand, if I will only please make him some sour cherry jam. His favorite.

Of course I said, Yes. And not only because I don't think he'll actually pit them.

Our relationship is deepening, and we're having lovely days filled with Spotify love song DJ nights, dog park excursions, BBQs in the backyard, laughing at private jokes and Facebook one-liners, and watching peculiar Netflix movies on the couch. We still massage feet and sore muscles every night we spend together, and we continue to make plans for the future.

Despite our concerns about moving to Costa Rica (missing Oregon's climate, our friends and the social life we are accustomed to, and snuggling without being sweaty), I think going there will bring us even closer together. We'll have even more time to spend together, as the cost of living -- and subsequently our work hours -- will be far less. When we are working, some of our businesses will be joint endeavors. We'll be working together, in both the secular world and on our small farm.

We still have a few years to try on some new job ideas and see if they fit. Bee-keeping, beer-brewing, mushroom farming, cheese-making, and running healthy living retreats. Weight loss is a big industry, and while we may not have anything new to say about it, we can offer a retreat space and an itinerary to inspire people to change their lives.

I'm in the blue bikini, front row.

Would you attend a Holistic Health Retreat in a tropical paradise with offerings of: permaculture tours, outdoor adventures, healthy cooking classes, organic produce, yoga classes, introduction to ecstatic dance, journaling, art classes, and access to the beach, mountains, and bio-diverse views every day? Plus, we could sell the cookbook that Ali and I are thinking of creating. We are formulating an eating plan that sounds unique, kitschy, AND doable for the modern person, with modern concerns and time constraints.

We also thought of hosting a library at Serenity Gardens. We wouldn't make any money off of it, but it sure would be fun. And we could combine it with a hobby store, of sorts. Like, Brews and Books. We could have a small beer and kombucha brew pub, with espresso cart (Did you know that it's really hard to find DECAF Americanos in Costa Rica?), mixed in with couches and cushy chairs and foot stools amidst our shelves and shelves of art work and books. People could buy a drink and sit and read, and/or check out the books. I can see an outdoor section with a hammock, too.

Without the actual deed on the property, my Costa Rican news is scant. I did, however, get a rather positive sounding email from Jim Gale, the land-developer of the Serenity Gardens and Osa Mountain Village properties. He said that he was down to two extremely unique custom lots (one that's four acres, and one that has a difficult-to-imagine shaped lot) and while those, of course, will be his top priority to sell, he thinks that the re-sale lots will go pretty fast from now on. There will be some new people coming next month to visit the Village; hopefully my lot will intrigue them! And then, next stop, solidifying the land purchase at Serenity Gardens.

I was thinking the other day that the next time we visit, (if we have a deed) I'd love to do some work on the land. Perhaps we can have the permits and supplies ready for our arrival, in order to build an outhouse, or deck, or something while staying there. At one point, Ali had the idea to build a platform for a tipi we'd purchase to use camping during our visits. A platform could be easy. Something to put potted flowers on. And a lawn chair. We could build an outhouse next. I bet the workers would love an outhouse while they are building the houses on our street. :-)

While nothing much is changing on the Costa Rican front, we are still thinking about our future move every week. I plan on incorporating a COSTS label on this blog in order to tally up the actual costs involved in moving out of the country for those of you thinking about doing the same. Look for those posts as they come up. Also, my kombucha-brewing (and Ali's beer-brewing) successes, recipes Ali and I develop, and our permaculture efforts here in Eugene.


Questing for the Pura Vida in the Place That I Am,
Valerie

Vegetarianism, or Not -- "I like it when they stay standing up."

Robert, my twelve-year-old son, after being forced to help in the garden a wee bit on Saturday -- truly, it took him longer to find SOCKS and put them on, than the amount of time he helped -- asked why we were even having a garden. I said, "So we can eat."

"What?! We're not eating anything else but what grows here? No meat?!"

"Well. Not everything. We'll still buy meat and things we don't grow from the Farmer's Market."

"Oh. Whew. I need meat."

I chuckled at the time. But since then, I watched an inspiring (and a little bit heart-breaking) YouTube video.

You see, just last week I had decided (and discussed it with my partner, Ali, and my son, Robert) that I didn't want to eat meat with un-known origins anymore. If I don't buy it from a local farm here in the Eugene/Springfield/Junction City/Lowell/Dexter/Veneta/Elmira area, I don't want to eat it. After all, "free-range" just means that they aren't in a cage. They could still be shuffling shoulder to shoulder in tight quarters. And "organic" meat is just animals that were fed organic feed; it tells me nothing about their living conditions, and whether they were treated humanely, or not.

I was feeling pretty great about my decision, until I watched this:

Now I just feel lame for not being a vegetarian.

(sigh)

On another note: I'm determined to process/can/dry/freeze as much fruit as I possibly can this Summer and Fall. All in my quest for sustainable living ... I've even started knitting my own dish cloths again! So, on Sunday next, Tamara and I are going to go strawberry picking -- if I can find a farm open on Sundays -- and then make jam. Mmmm. Probably just freeze some, too.

Little baby steps.

So, yes. Today, I may not eat octopus, but I'll still consume the beef from a Junction City farm (that I've visited personally) which I purchased at the Farmer's Market on Saturday.

Maybe next year I'll go veggie.

Let the Planting Begin

Yesterday I spent a few hours on the garden and finally planted something. First though, my friend Tamara graciously reminded me that garden work isn't just time spent planting starts and watering; it's the travel time to your friend's house to bag up compost and bring it to your own, because she bought too much, and you desperately needed it but didn't have the money to get any this year because you're so tight on funds from starting up a new business, that you don't know how you'll pay rent this month.

So, even though I didn't get any plants in the ground on Saturday, I still brought the straw and compost home, dug it into the soil -- stirring it -- dug trenches around each "raised bed" area, weed-eated an already overgrown section of the garden that I'm calling "the container garden," and laid straw down in between the beds and around the cherry tree where I'm trying to discourage weeds. And, as Tamara put it, that was still gardening, and I'm proud of the work I did.

The next day, after volunteering at the Country Fair site on our various crews, we napped, and when I awoke, I felt a little bummed about still not getting the plants in the ground -- so I geared myself up and spend another 2 1/2 hours in the garden. I started weeding the raspberries -- which are loaded with unripe berries -- and attached the rest of the garden fence so the dogs couldn't get in and dig up stuff. That nice soft dirt is so tempting. Then I finally transplanted the local starts I've been accumulating.

16 strawberry plants -- we already have a strawberry patch! -- 3 pepper plants, one chocolate cherry tomato plant for Ali, (I don't like tomatoes -- raw ones anyway) and one lavender plant to replace the one that mysteriously died.

Ali spent his time clearing the ubiquitous blackberry vines.

Speaking of mysterious plant death, all of my started basil seeds sprouted beautifully, so I moved them outside to get rain and sunshine with the other herbs I've got potted in the front yard. They seemed to be flourishing. Or at least, you know, staying alive. I was quite pleased. And then I went away for Memorial Day weekend and came back to no basil. It didn't die; the containers were still there; no dirt spillage; no dried up stems. JUST GONE. As if nothing had ever been planted there.

I have no idea what could've gotten it. Birds? Squirrels would've dug in the soil and knocked over the pots, and they don't strike me as the basil-eating type anyway. Snails maybe. I didn't think they would've climbed into the plastic starter pots with those sharp rims, but I guess they could have.

Anyway, it's a mystery. But, I'm still happy that my garden is started.

Up Next: planting seed potatoes; fertilizing and weeding the blueberries; weeding the raspberries, too; and planting seeds!!!

My sustainable garden has begun.

"Spring is Here," said the bumblebees.

Right now I hear weed-eaters and lawn mowers and edgers beating up my over-grownnasty lush lawn. It's going to be BEE-YOU-TEE-FULL. I'm already so pleased. Next step, repairing lawn mower (it's already in the van to be dropped off at the shop) and renting a rototiller. 

Next Saturday would be the day I'd love to do the garden bed prep, but Ali will be flying home from California that day (job training), and that's a job I'd want help with. But we'll see. Maybe I'll get a bug up my butt and do it all by myself. If the lawn mower would fit in the back of my van, wouldn't a rototiller?

My friend Tamara is coming over Friday morning to do some garden plot planning. She wants to grow some corn here, so we'll have to find a good spot for that.

I need compost brought in to amend the soil, and a bit of wood chips (and maybe some landscape cloth) to border it. Then I'll get some metal T-bars and some chicken wire, and fence off the garden space from rambunctious doggies.

Chickens last.

Finally! Seeds.

I got a surprise day off from work yesterday. Which is great for house projects, but sucky for the bank accounts. Nevertheless, I went to BiMart for new pants for my son ('cuz he keeps growing) and found their seedling annuals section in the freaking parking lot where you can't avoid buying them. Thank goodness some of them were only 69 cents, or $2.88.

I bought about a dozen small flowering plants and planted them in my front yard's window planter box, a big terra cotta pot, and a giant stainless steel kitchen bowl that I used to use for popcorn. I am hoping that my front porch area now looks nice enough to make up for the grossly under-mown lawn. (My lawn mower's broken and my landlord took pity on me and ordered a lawn service to come out on Monday to start cleaning up. It's a multi-day job, folks!)

ALSO, I'm happy to announce that I've finally planted my tomato, peppers, and basil seeds.

We'll see if these actually grow now. It's more experiment than anything. Because, well, they are ancient, after all.

Jungle Goodness

 I would sink my toes in the organic soil and breathe in jungle goodness. Pizotes would beg for food -- until they realized we had dogs on the property - and scarlet macaws would fly overhead. I'm pretty sure that whatever lot we lived on would be "good."

(Taken on the road up to Osa Mountain Village by Betty McGee.)

I don't want to jinx it, but Happy Birthday to me! And I'll tell you why in a minute.

In some recent correspondence with the land developer, I was invited to pick out my home site (even though I only have a deposit down). He was concerned that all the "good" ones would be taken. I smile at this because any land at the eco-village would be grand.

Nevertheless, I had a survey map sent over and -- lo, and behold -- about half the lots already had dibs called on them. Eeek! I sent a mad scurry of emails to determine what wavy green lines, white spaces, blue and red lines, and blue triangles all mean on survey maps, and have requested pictures or video of four or five of the lots that Ali and I have narrowed down. 

Despite this, and despite the knowledge that all the lots would be "good," Ali and I are seriously considering a quick trip down to CR to make sure the lot we pick out will be the best for us. (!!!) I do have some specific intentions for the land, and it would be a bummer if the thing I wanted to do with it wouldn't work. I want to have the space to have a large garden, a bee hive, a chicken coop, a yurt and a wooden house, and plenty of room for doggies to roam. Also, a covered area for eating/dancing/yoga-ing outside.

My kids are going on a vacation with their dad and nana during Spring Break. Ali was thinking we could go to CR at the same time. (What a birthday gift to me!) He needed some time to get some things in order before we went -- projects to finish at work, etc -- but the good news is he doesn't need a visa to enter Costa Rica. So we don't have to wait (or pay extra) for that.

I emailed the community at Osa Mountain Village today and opened a dialogue up for finding creative ways to make this impromptu trip an inexpensive one for us. (Which translates to: begged for cheap, shared, or free accommodations, and car rental and food discounts.) We'll see what happens. There are benefits to living in community, you know?

Things are moving along at Serenity Gardens Eco-Village. 

They are building roads,

marking off home sites,

and they've finished the community center design rendering.

The community center will be at the upper-most lot on the property, with the only ocean view. Originally, Jim Gale (the developer) thought about having a couple of high-end homes built there, but decided it would be nicer if we all got to share that view as community members instead. Win!

Prepping My Oregon Yard

Somehow I think that planning a garden, and readying the backyard for Spring, will be a far more enjoyable task when I live in the Costa Rican jungle. A cold, wintery Eugene, Oregon doesn't instill the necessary oomph. I am simply not inspired to rake wet leaves and mow and fill the yard waste bin.

Fifteen minutes a day. Just fifteen minutes a day. That's what my boyfriend, Ali, says. So last Sunday we spent a short amount of time on the front yard. He loaded up the yard waste bin with tree limbs and blackberry bramble vines that had been stacked under the now-naked cherry tree from last summer's pruning, and I raked about a quarter of the yard's leaves into the street for pick up -- careful to avoid the water run-off drain.

And I felt good. I mean, Yeah, the front yard doesn't really look like it's been touched, but I know it has been. And I know it's fifteen minutes closer to being done.

A recent snag in the homesteading efforts includes my landlord telling me he wants to sell the house I live in. (Sigh.) I had envisioned staying at this house that I've grown to love, for all the years until I moved to Costa Rica. The back yard is huge, and full of edible landscaping. There's room for chickens and a garden. I like the neighbors across the street, it's near a playground that both my older children like to go to -- for separate reasons -- and I have a great dog-walking route I use in the neighborhood that I really like.

My landlord has offered the sale of the house to me, and it is possible if I can qualify for a VA loan. Paperwork must ensue. And that means finding the necessary documentation from the attic, filling out forms, and waiting. Lots of waiting.

Which is my very favorite thing to do.

Also, it means waiting on the gardening plans. I don't want to have garden beds made, and soil delivered from Lane Forest Products, and seeds purchased from Territorial Seeds -- not to mention the time and energy of planting and weeding and caring for a Winter/Spring garden -- if I can't buy the house and it's sold out from under me.

I haven't told my children about any of this. I don't want them to either worry, or get their hopes up.

One step at a time.


One thing is certain though. I will have a garden. Even if it's in containers, or at my boyfriend's house. I've used the excuse before that I was moving during the growing season, and so couldn't have a garden. But not this time. Even if I do have to move this summer, I'll at least plant some strawberries in a strawberry pot, and grow some flowers and a tomato plant. Plus, in the Willamette Valley, there are loads of local farms where I can U-Pick a grand harvest of blueberries, peaches, apples, corn, or strawberries and can or freeze them. If I can't grow more than a pot or two of something, I can at least share in the local harvest and preserve it.

There are blackberry bushes everywhere in Eugene, and I can pick for free and make blackberry jam, and freeze any leftovers for making blackberry crisp, pie, and yogurt. Mmmm.

Every year I have such great plans for growing, harvesting, and preserving food. I don't even feel like they are out of line, or over the top, goals. Sure, challenging, but definitely doable. And every Summer and Fall I forget that I need to stop socializing or taking on ANY new projects until the harvesting is over. That's how they did it way back when, and that's still how it needs to be done today.

Despite the pattern stated above, I have a good feeling about this year. I really do. I could not qualify for purchasing my house, and I could have to move my little family yet again. But I'll have help through all of it, and whatever happens isn't a giant roadblock. It just might mean that my urban homesteading efforts will be summarized into a couple of terracotta pots with basil in them, instead of the growing little suburban farmstead I envisioned.

But that's okay. Everything happens for a reason. So, we'll just wait to see what transpires.

And then I'll figure out why it happened.

~~

In Costa Rica news, I got an email today with a new YouTube video that Christian Mena made. (He lives and works at Osa Mountain Village, and is helping to get Serenity Gardens Eco-Village up and running.) The video is ... amateur ... but certainly better than I could do. It's not of great quality, but I loved seeing the potential of the place, and the work they are starting to do on it.