Inner City Farmer

So, yeah, I’ve been a little removed for the past month or so. Just surviving, really. The heat came early this summer and hit hard and won’t stop. Living in Texas, as far as I can tell, used to be all about counting the number of 100-degree days in July and August. This year, like last year, the 100-degree days started in early June, and all-time record highs continue to be set what feels like every other day. 105. 107. Oof. My trees and plants have all gone into shock. My garden is dead, save for a sweet potato vine that’s flourishing and some hardy basil that’s contributed to five or six batches of pesto (along with the pecans off my tree) and that I am now propagating, piece by piece, in cups of water scattered throughout the house. My relationship with the outdoors has been pretty much put on hold lately. All projects stopped. And then the other morning, when it was only 90 degrees outside, I made this fence thing at the very front of my front yard. It’s going to look much cooler, at least from the street, once I have attached the pieces of weathered cedar fencing I scavenged several months back. I intend it to function as more of a berm than anything, a little hill that keeps rainwater on my property instead of trickling off. Plus, in the process of digging the dirt to make these berms I will be creating little depressions where that water will hopefully end up. Here, I intend to plant hardy native plants that can survive on their own from one good soaking to the next. This was something I have been wanting to do ever since I saw Brad Lancaster speak. He transformed his tiny lot in Tuscon from a barren desert into a lush oasis simply by designing his landscape in such a way that every drop of rain that hit his property stayed on his property. Sinking water into your soil, our soil, may be the greatest investment you ever make, for there vegetation and the creatures that feed on it will flourish. Meanwhile, the City of Austin continues to chop down trees because, get this, they were getting old. As if trees don’t know how to die on their own.

I just published this little story on CNN.com. Anyone can do it. The beauty of modern technology.

All the talk on my neighborhood’s listserv right now has to do with traffic calming. No one likes cars whizzing by their house, but let’s face it: in our society cars have more rights than people. The logical way to put an end to this would be to call up the city and request they put a speed bump on your street. The problem is that the city of Austin has no budget for this right now, which means it’s up to us to make the change we want to see happen.

A great solution to this problem is to erect some sort of art installation in your front yard, something so visually arresting drivers will simply have to slow down to check it out. The rock wall and rock pathway I am making have done a pretty good job of making drivers hit the brakes, but I think I could do better. For example, my neighbor Jim (of JimHatesWork fame) has a giant lollipop in his front yard. Even though he lives on the busiest street in the ‘hood, drivers practically slam on their brakes as they pass by and you can almost hear their thoughts: what the hell is that?

If only Jim would take some of the treasures he has hidden in his back yard and stick them in the front, traffic wouldn’t be a problem at all. Check out some of these goodies. The Christmas Scene:

The Aquatic Bear Man:

The Outdoor Bathroom:

I am hoping to talk to someone who works for the City to determine what they can or cannot do to help with the all the cars that speed through our hood. If they can’t help, then I believe it’s time to start taking matters into our own hands. I am hoping to motivate some others to help me with a project very similar to what City Repair does in Portland, Oregon. Who could complain about citizens beautifying the neighborhood, fostering a better sense of community, alleviating crime, and calming traffic?

With the Man Cave nearly complete, I’ve started focusing on the next round of projects, most of which involve scavenging free materials from around town. Last week I began building a back fence that will, hopefully, shield my urban oasis from the rantings and ravings of Linda, the drunken Cajun woman who lives directly behind me. All the materials I’m using on the Funky Fence, with the exception of five four by fours, I found in a construction dumpster one of my neighbors used while having an addition on their house built.

As much cedar siding as I scavenged last fall, I realized the other day that it wouldn’t be enough to finish the fence and so I got back in the habit of cruising the Free section on Craigslist. Yesterday I found a gold mine: free cedar fencing and the four by fours it was attached to. Yes, the wood was old, probably somewhere between 15 and 20 years, and, yes, some boards were hopelessly rotted, but generally it was in good shape and it was all free free free.

Even better, Deb, the woman in charge of demolishing it, helped load it into my van and even offered to haul a load of it to my house! That’s how committed she was to not seeing the stuff end up in the landfill. Incredible.

And here is the result of a mere hour’s labor. I now have more than enough wood to finish the Funky Fence, and perhaps there will be enough left over to embark upon another endeavor.

Last month I had the pleasure of meeting Bill Gordon, an older gentleman who spends much of his free time cruising the streets of Austin observing and documenting the locations of various fruit trees, particularly pomegranates. He informed me that there was a fifty-year-old tree right around the corner from my house that had been chopped down by a construction company. He showed me how to propagate a new tree by taking a cutting from a mature one and ever since that day I have been snipping pieces off various trees from around town. I have also been aided by the information I found here. Now my house is full of pots with cuttings of pomegranate trees and jasmine bushes in them. Why pay for trees and shrubs when you can make them yourself?