Inner City Farmer

Our garden is just not producing like I hoped it would. The heat wave we’ve been enduring has stunned most of the plants into a catatonic state. I can almost hear them shrieking in pain. Interestingly, all the edible “weeds” I planted and rarely water, like the row of Lamb’s Quarters, are doing great. Which is just one more reason I need to start building my soil and creating a true food forest out of predominately native plants and trees.

Luckily, we still have a freezer full of meat, roughly 25 pounds of sausage from the wild hog I “harvested” last fall. (Sadly, we finished the last of the venison several days ago.) I know, I know—it’s at this point in the conversation where I lose half my audience. For many, permaculture and veganism go hand in hand. In fact, a couple weeks ago a woman on the permaculture listserv out of the Bay Area that I belong to started a lively discussion on this very subject. Her stance was that, basically, if you didn’t practice both you were going straight to hell. I was happy that several members chided her for being so exclusionary.

I understand her position. Yes, we could feed the world’s population many times over if we stopped eating animals and stuck to a vegetarian diet. Yes, the way many animals are raised and slaughtered in today’s industrial food system is cruel and unsanitary. Yes, we don’t need animal manure to fertilize our soil—we can do just as good a job growing nitrogen-fixing plants like beans and peas or planting a “green manure” like clover and tilling it into the soil.

I hear all these points and they’re valid, but I also agreed with the member who responded by saying, in effect, “Permaculture is a fairly exclusionary practice as it is. Do we really want to make it more so by alienating those who eat meat?” This same member went on to tell a story about an eco-village that disbanded because of this very issue, as if practicing permaculture alone wasn’t enough.

I would never argue that veganism is bad in any way, but I would like to leave you with some food for thought (pun obviously intended). We, as a species, survived for thousands of years living a hunter-gatherer lifestyle. Such a way of life made us not only appreciate animals, but in many cases revere them almost like deities. It was when we discovered agriculture that many of our greatest problems were born. We started buying and selling land. We began trading goods. We started treating animals like chattel. We began fighting over property. Hey, I’m just saying.

This is how far I have evolved since I bought my house two years ago. I chose this place based almost solely on conventional thinking: its location, its price, its curb appeal. Today, what I prize most about it are the two large pecan trees in the front yard. Those trees represent the heart of the food forest I am trying to create.

I didn’t realize what I had until last fall when it rained pecans every single day. The harvest was particularly bountiful because of all the rain we’d gotten in the spring. I collected five large paper grocery bags full of nuts and proceeded to start shelling them one by one. I had to stop when no more would fit inside my freezer. I have since made pecan pie, pecan clusters, even pasta with bits of pecan thrown in. I gave boxes full of pecan turtles to friends and family for Christmas. I’ve even tried feeding my chickens pecans (I also know of several dogs that love them). And I still haven’t even put a dent into my pecan stash!

Supposedly, my pecans are particularly large and tasty. More than one person has remarked upon the size of my nuts, a joke that never seems to get old (at least for the person telling it). One of my neighbors claims my pecans are so big because my trees were grafted, but I don’t know enough about the subject to offer an opinion. All I know is that I have been blessed by one of the greatest sources of protein in nature, and I don’t have to water it or worry about it. For anyone contemplating putting a food-producing tree in their yard in Austin, I highly recommend planting a pecan tree. (The only real negative is how brittle they are; a good wind storm will fill your yard with limbs.) You’d also be wise to contact the good people at Tree Folks, who have been known to give away saplings from time to time.

In the picture above is a pecan sapling that recently appeared in my front yard. It’s at least 15 to 20 years away from producing any nuts, but that’s fine by me. I’ve already got two mature trees and, even better, lots of patience.

Self-Sufficiency Meter: 30%

While everyone is bitching about their own personal “pain at the pump” (dumbest. phrase. ever.), I’m all smiles. Finally, the market price of gas is starting to reflect its environmental cost! I can’t wait for the day it hits $10 a gallon because that should force us all to make smarter choices like looking for an alternative fuel that is sustainable instead of grasping for stop-gap measures like eliminating the gas tax (dumbest. idea. ever). Our politicians remain hopelessly short-sighted so, once again, it’s up to us as consumers to make forward-thinking choices. Like using public transportation. Or riding bikes to work.

I haven’t talked much about transportation yet because, frankly, I’m still behind the times. I drive a gas-guzzling van. I don’t ride my bike enough. My only defense is that I have a three year old, and the easiest way to get him from Point A to Point B is to strap him in his car seat and hit the road. When he’s with his mom, I do much better. I will often go days without driving. I did especially well last week on my birthday when I hit the trifecta of alternative transportation: I took the bus to Wheatsville and back, I rode my bike to pick up some Thai food (and used my own canvas bag and refused their plastic utensils), and carpooled to Stubb’s to see Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. Pretty good, but I know I can do better.

I hereby promise that I will never buy a gas-consuming vehicle again. When the van dies, I hope to go electric or, better, rely solely on buses and my bike. After all, that is one of the greatest reasons for living in a city; it’s so easy to get everywhere without using a car. I find it odd that when I visit New York City or San Francisco I almost solely use public transportation, but in Austin I rarely do. That’s going to change, and not just because gas now costs more than Makers Mark.

For those seeking an alternative to the car, I suggest checking out the Austin Yellow Bike Project, which promotes bicycling by teaching people how to fix their own bikes and offering free community bikes, and Austin Car Share, which hopes to limit the amount of cars on the road by allowing its members to borrow cars only when they need them.

The Kerrville Folk Festival ended yesterday. That’s right, it lasted 18 days, which is 11 days longer than the next longest music festival I’ve attended (the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival). Kerrville is also the only music festival I’ve been to that actively promotes permaculture. Sandwiched in between the booth where Clif bars were being given away and the music store where CDs were being sold was a booth (wo)manned at nearly all times by Jenny Nazak, the public-relations coordinator of the Austin Permaculture Guild.

The impact of all the permaculture and natural building workshops that have been held at the Quiet Valley Ranch (the festival’s home) over the years is immediately felt upon entering the front gate. The first structure you come to is made out of cob and locally harvested cedar. It is just one of the many buildings on the ranch made out of natural materials. The headquarters for the staff is a small house made of straw bales. And my personal favorite, the gazebo atop Chapel Hill created by Sun Ray Kelley, was made of wood found on the property. It has a living roof that was quite green the last time I saw it. Here’s a photograph of one section of the roof:

All around the ranch, trees have been planted and swales dug to direct ran water to them. The greening of the property will take some time as this is classic Hill Country land, dry, dusty, and rocky. As it is, Quiet Valley Ranch is an oasis of forward thinking in a part of the world that is often quite content with the status quo. I look forward to my next visit to this famed spot (perhaps as soon as October when an intensive Permaculture Design Workshop is being held there. Stay tuned to the Kerrmaculture website for more details….

Obviously what I’m doing here is a little different. I can’t tell you how many times people have stopped and asked me why I’m throwing mud on my house. I don’t even want to get into the whole peeing-on-trees thing. Luckily, my confidence rarely flags, mostly due to two important points:

1. I live in a town whose motto is “Keep Austin Weird.”

2. Bonnie, the elderly woman who lives directly across the street from my house, is crazy as a loon. Witness the official road sign she somehow obtained and nailed to the sycamore in front of her house. I once made the mistake of allowing the plumber who installed my tankless water heater to park in front of her place. Unseen for days, she suddenly burst out of her house as if her pants were on fire. According to the word on the street, the reasoning behind her no-parking crusade is two-fold: She moved here when the road was dirt and it was her tax dollars that paid to have it paved; and, when that terrible day arrives, the ambulance has to have someplace to park.