Reverse raspberry tart(or, how to get one's grunt on)

My Lady Friend likes sweet things.

Last night, when she saw an example of this strange dish called a blueberry grunt in a book on fruits and herbs, she turned to me and said, "You need to make this for me for dinner."

Surprisingly enough, I said yes.

"But it'll look better than that," I added, "because that looks like a jacked-up duck in a bowl."

Here's the grunt recipe as it appeared
in "Vegetables, Herbs & Fruit --
An Illustrated Encyclopedia:"

2 cups blueberries
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon allspice
1 small lemon
Maple syrup to taste
1 cup white flour
A pinch of salt
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
1 cup half-and-half

"Gently simmer berries along with sugar, allspice and the lemon's juice (and the grinded rind). Add maple syrup to taste.

"Meanwhile, rub the flour, salt, baking powder and butter into crumbs and blend in enough cream to make a smooth, creamy dough. Carefuly spoon the dough on top of the berry misture, cover pan, and simmer until the crust puffs and sets. Serve with additional syrup, if desired. Serves four to six."

We had everything listed in the recipe except blueberries. So off to the store and then back to the kitchen we went.

Things were changed up a bit by the time it was over. First, we put in more or less equal amounts of blueberries and raspberries. Second, we used vanilla yogurt and a bit of rice milk instead of half-and-half. We also used sucanat instead of sugar, and Earth Balance spread instead of butter. Third, I decided to put the dish in the oven for 35 minutes at 350 degrees instead of simmering it all in a skillet. That made no sense to me.


Five minutes more (with a lot less of opening the oven) might've let the dough thoroughly cook. But, you know... it tasted good, and no one grunted with displeasure.

Allow me to add that I also sprinkled liberal amounts of cinnamon and clove on the dough. I added a capful of apple cider vinegar to the berry mixture, as well.

Fin.

Death Cap or Destroying Angel?

Or perhaps what follows is neither of the Amanita mushrooms named above, but Chlorophyllum molybdites instead.

In any case, we came home Tuesday evening and I spotted a broad, white cap that had emerged from the lawn. It was the largest free-standing fungus I've seen around the house. Its white stem and slightly pointed cap made me think it was also quite poisonous. So I wanted to analyze it a bit more.





The mushroom had a shiny, slick texture; a dingy yellow coloration on the cap, which was four inches wide; tightly packed gills that ascended toward the stem (those would be "free" then, yes?); and a bit of a fishy odor. It was that list detail, the smell -- along with a split in the cap -- that led me to consider it to be Inocybe fastigiata. But I see that that mushroom only grows to three inches. This specimen was five inches tall, and I obviously didn't find it in the forest locale that's typical of the Inocybe.

So back to the Death Cap, Amanita phalloides. This mushroom had most of the typical features for that variety -- one of the most lethal mushrooms known -- except for remnants of the volval cup at the base. There was also no tissue ring around the stem. Even though this mushroom had a light yellow tinge to it, I knew that rain (which we'd had the previous two days) could cause this otherwise green or olive-yellow mushroom to lose its color. I suppose, then, that this coloration issue would rule out the Destroying Angel, Amanita bisporigera, which is always white.

Anyone have a more definitive ID?

One-off of the waxing Moon

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I dragged the reflector 'scope
out onto the lawn for the first time
since April. It still proved to be
difficult to get a decent photo
through the eyepiece, but this
was an exception.

Little beingsgoing abouttheir business

Backyard botanical

I was doing my thrice-daily rounds near the Concentric Garden when I noticed some intriguing plants at the edge of the property. I pulled out a whole lot of invasive garlic mustard from that area in May. Now it's overgrown with as-yet-unidentified native plants, blackberries, buckwheat (that I planted to replace the mustard) and grasses.


As I took a closer look at the plant that first caught my eye -- it's milkweed -- I noticed another specimen with spearheaded leaves and star-shaped, purple flowers. "Must be some kind of nightshade," I thought.

"Woody nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) is also known as bittersweet nightshade, felonwood, and felonwort. In the Middle Ages, the name dulcamara was written more properly as Amaradulcis, literally meaning 'bittersweet.' Felonwood and felonwort are not as sinister as they might sound; 'felon' is not referring to criminals, but rather to whitlow, which is an inflammation of the toe or finger around the nail.

"Woody nightshade was used for many medical conditions, including dissolving blood clots (in bruises), for rheumatism, fever, and as a restorative. Farmers used it as a charm around the necks of animals they thought to be under an evil eye. Ripe bittersweet berries are red rather than black, as seen with deadly nightshade (Solanum nigrum)."

While I poked around in the back, I saw several plants that I thought could be poison ivy or poison oak. Unfortunately, the rule of "leaves of three, let it be" didn't seem that handy since blackberry and other plants have similar leaf structures. Some online examples that I saw were contradictory. And apparently, Virginia creeper looks like poison oak. So can you tell me what's what with the following photos?

Three weeks in the West,parts nine and ten

Yes, so here we go.

On June 3, we packed up the tent and drove to Santa Fe. I used to live a little bit further south of the city, in Cerrillos, in 1999. I hadn't been back to visit since 2000, so this was a part of our trip that I'd looked forward to quite a bit.

The first stop: Cafe Oasis, an eclectic, outrageouesly and wonderfully decorated, veggie/vegan restaurant that... oh, it's closed. The tile-and-glass mosaic walkway is gone. It's an antique store. Never mind.

Next stop, then: the plaza, with its abundance of high-end home decor, jewelry, art, and bric-a-brac boutiques. Racks full of ristras, ponchos and Western wear. A gallery and a figure of Kokopelli every 20 feet. The monument to Kit Carson and the soldiers who fought against the Indians (with the modifier "savage" chiseled off, finally).

We managed to find something light and inexpensive to eat. At that point, the only thing that I wanted to show my Lady Friend was the long row of Native artisans who sell jewelry, pottery and handcrafts in front of the Palace of the Governors. She commented on the apparent segregation between the Natives, sitting on the sidewalk with their wares on blankets, and the Caucasian vendors with covered tables and upright displays. The first thought I had was "Well, the Native people get to sell without permits."

Which is something like the truth. The Native American Artisans Program, which is overseen by the Museum of New Mexico, reserves the portal to the Palace for the exclusive use of Native artisans of all the regional tribes. There are several thousand artisans enrolled in the program, which has been in place for more than 80 years.

We bought a couple of items and then moved on to the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum, which had recently opened an exhibition of her abstract work, along with a series of documentary photographs of her life in New Mexico. It's always astounding to see O'Keeffe's paintings up close. First off, they're huge. Second, the subtlety and saturation of the colors, the blended forms, the texture. Third is the fact that you can see work of hers that seems (to me) not to have been reproduced anywhere else. The only drawback is that there's only one level to explore.

After O'Keeffe, we left town, but not before visiting my beloved Baja Tacos on Cerrillos Road. Tofu tacos and burritos, oh my. Sated and happy, we drove along the Turquoise Trail to the village of Cerrillos, where we stopped again so that I could pick up some stones and see my old place, and then we finally got on our way to Albuquerque and points south.

We spent the night in the Cibola National Forest, then set off toward the Very Large Array. The VLA receives and analyzes radio waves from celestial objects with 27 enormous antenna dishes on an open plain west of Socorro. Perhaps you'll recall the facility from the film "Contact." Geek that I am, this was my third visit to the observatory. I'd hoped to buy a new souvenir T-shirt, but unfortunately, the new designs weren't that appealing.

Our last stop in New Mexico was Pie Town (where, yes, pies are the attraction). Another friend from Seattle had been there a couple of months ago. She sent me a postcard from Pie-O-Neer Cafe that was signed by the owner. I had hoped to stop in, pick up a card to send to Seatown, and get a tasty treat myself. But, alas, they were closed. Literally, there was a "gone fishin'" sign on the front door. So we went to Pie Town's other pie place and then pushed on toward Arizona.



















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Photos from day eight are here.

Go forward to days 11 and 12.

A little garden love...

...because there's a lot to love in the garden.


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Check how much these have grown in a week,
thanks to heavy rain a few days ago.

And so begins this summer's time-lapse series,
which began on June 14th last year, as well.

Three weeks in the West, part eight

On June 2, we left our camp near Santa Cruz Lake and visited Chimayo. The Catholic sanctuary in Chimayo has been a site of pilgrimage for at least 200 years, so I thought it would be interesting to check out.

I was mixed up about why people go there, though, thinking that it was because of the Virgin of Guadalupe shrine when, in fact, it was because of the soil. Many have avowed that the soil there can heal any ailment. A small room to the side of the church where the faithful go to gather this soil was adorned with offerings, old crutches, crucifixes, photos of children and relatives, and all manner of paintings and collages of Catholic saints and Christ. My Lady Friend brought back a film canister-ful for her parents.

The Guadalupana shrine I had in mind is in Santa Fe.

Anyhow, after our visit to Santuario de Chimayo -- and the adjoining cafe that served some mean vegetarian tamales -- we drove to Taos. There, we took a walking tour of Taos Pueblo and spent some time in the shops (which are also the homes) of the pueblo residents. This was my third trip up there, so I didn't feel a need to take photos.

On the way back to Santa Cruz Lake, we gathered some wood in the national forest ("a long-standing local tradition," my Lady Friend read with some amusement) and then we settled in for the evening.

Ah, yeah, there was also that UFO I saw along the way... still haven't checked with anyone about that. For the record, it was a seemingly stationary, very bright object (at least magnitude -5; it was comparable to Venus) low in southwest (~five degrees above the horizon) at 8:30 p.m. MDT on June 2. It wasn't Sirius, which had already set (and which wouldn't have been visible, even at our altitude). No apparent blinking or twinkling, and it seemed to stay in the same place for a duration of 10 minutes. Thin clouds slowly blew in over the mountains, and that was the last I saw of it.

Perhaps it was an Iridium flare...




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Photos from day seven are here.

Go forward to days nine and ten.

Three weeks in the West, part seven

June 1, Chaco Canyon: My Lady Friend wanted to take a hike. So we set off from the base of the mesa behind Pueblo Bonito, got turned around a bit on the cliffs, and then we found the trail that led to Pueblo Alto.

The botanical tour photos that preceded this post came from our two-mile trek across the mesa. As one crosses the mesa to Pueblo Alto, it's possible to see overgrown sections of the Chacoan road system.

[By the way: follow the next link if you want to know more about the astronomical alignments that were employed in Chacoan architecture.]

We left Chaco in the afternoon and drove east toward Cuba and then Abiquiu. We'd planned to camp out that way, but it seemed better just to continue toward Santa Fe. After a little more getting turned around, we arrived at a campground above Santa Cruz Lake, where we tried not to let the things we'd just read about encountering bears get the best of us.




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Cerro Pedernal: you might recognize it from O'Keeffe's paintings.




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Here's a link to the end of day six (the last of four parts).

Or you can go forward to day eight.

Desert botanical tour(with a little wildlife)

These photos were taken early in the morning on June 1, 2007, at Chaco Culture National Historical Park. It was the seventh day of our desert vacation. The rest of day seven's imagery is here.














Friend Locust was content to hang out for awhile...








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ID anyone?







Thanks to my Lady Friend for the images of me.

See photos from day six.

Three weeks in the West,part six (the fourth and final third)

Right.

Well, in between all of the pic-snapping around the Chaco ruins, I turned the lens toward the fauna, the flora and the sky. There was also a Full (blue) Moon on May 31, which inspired a nearby mockingbird to sing all night and well into the morning.





















Photos from the late afternoon of the sixth day are here,
while those taken earlier in the afternoon are here.
These are the photos from the beginning of day six.

Here's your recap of day five.
Or just forge ahead to day seven's photos.

But wait: there's more!

I created a one-off post about
plant life on the Pueblo Alto mesa.

Three weeks in the West,part six (but not the last third)

The previous post featured images from Chetro Ketl, one of the larger ruins at Chaco Culture National Historical Park. The next series of images, except for the last two, were taken around Pueblo Bonito.

From the park's trail guides: "Chaco Canyon contains evidence of 10,000 years of human occupation. However, it is best known for the large-scale, multi-storied masonry buldings that were planned and constructed more than a thousand years ago by the ancestors of the Hopi and New Mexican Pueblo peoples. From AD 850 until AD 1150, Chaco was the center of a politcal, ceremonial and trade network that encompassed a vast area of the Southwest.

"The D-shaped geometry, symmetry and massive size of Pueblo Bonito are apparent from the overlook (atop the mesa behind the structure). The plaza area is divided in half by a room block aligned to true north. Other wall alignments suggest integration of the building with astronomical events such as solstices and lunar standstills."

From The Primary Architecture of the Chacoan Culture: A Cosmological Expression by Anna Sofaer: "Twelve of the 14 major Chacoan buildings are oriented to the midpoints and extremes of the solar and lunar cycles. The 11 rectangular major Chacoan buildings have internal geometry that corresponds with the relationship of the solar and lunar cycles. Most of the major buildings also appear to be organized in a solar-and-lunar regional pattern that is symmetrically ordered about Chaco Canyon's central complex of large ceremonial buildings. These findings suggest a cosmological purpose motivating and directing the construction and the orientation, internal geometry, and interrelationships of the primary Chacoan architecture."


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As I made my way around the pueblo, I noticed that the setting Sun was visible through a window that was above and behind me. As I tried to frame a shot with the Sun's light flaring through, I thought about the features for astronomical observation for which these ruins are renown. It was only in the last hour that I found out that the "windows" below were such features.


"...You will notice a southeast-facing corner doorway. Only seven are known in Pueblo Bonito, and all of them were built during later construction sequences in the eastern part of the pueblo. When the Sun rises on the morning of the winter solstice, rays of sunlight pass through the opening and strike the wall in the room behind it. Throughout the canyon, other architectural features, as well as modified landforms, correspond with astronomical events."


There was another set of intriguing portals that I noticed before I went back to the car. Three holes were set into a wall that faced the eastern horizon. The alignment reminded me of the solstice-equinox portals we'd seen at Mesa Verde.

Peering through, I could see a pair of holes in a second wall that were generally in line with the first set. Beyond the second set of holes, there was a third wall visible. As is clear from the photos, this wasn't the result of erosion or damage. Those stones were placed with intention.

The sight lines through each set of portals weren't visible head-on; one had to the side in order to see through all the way. There was no documentation about this specific room in the trail guide, but I'd say that this was another way for a calendar-keeper to mark specific solar or lunar transit.

I doubt that I was the first person to notice this feature, but just in case I was: I welcome a request from the National Park Service or The Solstice Project to have me come back to do more research :)


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Photos from earlier on day six are here, while photos from the beginning of day six are here.

This is the next and last post for day six.

And finally, these are the photos from day five .

Three weeks in the West,part six (the second third)

Soon after we left Navajo Lake State Park and crossed the New Mexico border, we stopped at a ranger station in Bloomfield. I picked up maps for the time that we'd later spend near Santa Fe and Taos, and then we continued south along US 550. We stopped again, however, when I saw a huge sign for frybread at Blanco Trading Post. Among the many things I'd been talking up about New Mexico to my Lady Friend, frybread was high on the list. And like the reunion that I felt had taken place while I stood among the juniper and sage in the morning, it was a delight to hear the inflections of speech and see the traditional crafts and jewelry of the Dine' (Navajo) and Pueblo people.

These examples of cultural diversity and artistic tradition are two reasons why northern New Mexico is one of my favorite places on Earth. Another is the depth of history in regard to the land and its inhabitants. Our next destination, Chaco Culture National Historical Park, was one of the best examples of that history.

I'd wanted to visit Chaco Canyon for some time -- when I'd lived in New Mexico and on different occasions after I moved away. A friend from Seattle visited the site a couple of years ago, and he came back with tales and reflections that only deepened my desire to go. Allow me to share a bit of text from the park's brochures to explain:

"The cultural flowering of the Chacoan people began in the the mid-800s and lasted for more than 300 years. We can see it clearly in the grand scale of the architecture. Using masonry techniques unique for their time, they constructed massive stone buildings... much larger than any they had previously built. Construction on some of these buildings spanned decades and even centuries. Although each is unique, all great houses share architectural features that make them recognizable as Chacoan. [The same can be said about the structures at Mesa Verde. -- Ed.]

"During the middle and late 800s, the great houses [of Chacoan culture] were constructed. These structures were often oriented to solar, lunar and cardinal directions... Sophisticated astronomical markers, communication features, water-control devices, and formal earthen mounds surrounded them. The buildings were places within a landscape surrounded by sacred mountains, mesa and shrines that still have deep meaning for their descendants.

"Researchers believe that the Chacoans used many of the prominent mesas, buttes and mountains in the area for signaling stations. The people could have communicated great distances -- as far away as Mesa Verde and Chimney Rock in Colorado -- using fires or reflectors made with selenite (gypsum crystals) ."

I need to get the photos, so let me wrap it up. After jostling along the graded road to the visitor center, we paid our fees and then decided to see if there were any open campsites (despite the sign near the highway that indicated that the campground was full). There were, in fact, two or three spaces available.

I thought that my Lady Friend wouldn't have been interested in staying overnight in order to see more ruins in the morning, but she showed an Indiana Jones-like interest in the place that made her want to spend a second day in the canyon. So not only did we arrive in time with the Full (blue) Moon, we had the fortune to spend the night at Chaco as well.


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Photos from the beginning of day six are here.

This is the third (but not the final) post for day six.

Photos from day five are here.

Three weeks in the West,part six (the first third)

Our plan, after visiting Mesa Verde, was to drive into New Mexico, camp somewhere in the Carson National Forest, and then go to Chaco Culture National Historical Park. But the forest was a longer drive from Mesa Verde than I had anticipated, and going from there to Chaco the next day would've meant going over some of the same ground twice.

Thus, our camping stop on the Colorado side of Navajo Lake State Park, which was satisfying because of the abundance of sagebrush and the variety of desert blooms to be seen the next morning.


















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Photos from day five are here.

This is the second posting for day six.

Three weeks in the West, part five

On the 30th of May, we left Ridgway, CO, and drove over the San Juan Mountains to reach Cortez. Our next destination was Mesa Verde National Park, an archaeological site situated next to the Ute Mountain Indian Reservation. The mesa was inhabited for several hundred years by the predecessors of today's Hopi and other Pueblo tribes. For a large part of that time, the Ancestral Puebloans (or Anasazi) lived on top of the mesa, practicing agriculture and hunting to survive. At some point (but for unknown reasons), the inhabitants built cliffside dwellings that were maintained for 100 years, after which time they left the area.

The ruins at Mesa Verde are some of the best preserved examples of early culture in the Americas. This is not only because of the dry conditions and remote location of the mesa, but also because of the skill that was employed in the construction. Research and excavation, along with contributions of knowledge from modern-day tribespeople, has shown that the Ancestral Puebloans fully understood which types of sediment, wood, stone and plants would provide the best oils, fire fuels, structural supports and bricks for their homes. Some of the same building methods and materials continue to be used today.

Park Service personnel lead tours to various dwellings at Mesa Verde. We visited Balcony House and Cliff Palace. Our guide to Balcony House was quite knowledgable about not only the historical details of the site, but also with the cultural practices and cosmological beliefs held by the Ancestral Puebloans. As we moved from place to place, she shared anecdotes about what today's tribespeople gain from their experiences at the site, as well as what we can learn (or have lost) in regard to attunement with nature, place and the self.

To my delight, our guide also dropped a bit of science about the astronomical knowledge of the Ancestral Puebloans. She pointed out three holes below a stone-and-wood balcony that faced the east. Inside that room, she explained, were markings or other holes that the Sun's light would hit on the days of the solstices and the equinox. A Sun priestess, our guide said, would monitor this and other celestial movements in order to discern the timing of important ceremonies for the people.

Our park guide also mentioned the importance that the Ancestral Puebloans (like the ancient Egyptians and other early cultures) placed on the constellation Orion, with the region of the belt stars and the nebula regarded as the "eye of God" and the place origin of their ancestors. Tingle, tingle, up my spine when I think of birth stars mine.

Anyhow: after an hour, we ascended from the Balcony House and joined another tour at Cliff Palace. After another hour, we made the winding drive off of the mesa and headed toward Durango and then Navajo Lake State Park, where we camped for the night.





























Photos from day four are here.

Photos from day six -- the first of four parts -- are here.

Three weeks in the West, part four

On our own in Ouray County, we chose to spend some time on the Ridgway Riverwalk and to visit Box Canyon Falls. It was the first extended, on-the-ground experience that we'd had in any area since we'd left Illinois. That's why there are so many more photos for this day then the previous three.

The park around Box Canyon featured a native plant walk, but except for a few trees, there wasn't much information about what was what. After some time there, we drove up the Million Dollar Highway between Ouray and Silverton, arrived just as shops began to close, and then drove right back (in a light snow that turned to rain).












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Photos from day three are here.

Photos from day five are here.

Three weeks in the West, part three

We left Colorado Springs on Memorial Day, bound for the western slope of the Rockies (Ridgway, CO, specifically). I called my colleague from the Doha days to tell her that we'd arrive in three or maybe four hours. She simply said "It'll take longer than that, but OK."

About an hour into the drive, we encountered a detour that took us off of US 50. We ended up on a couple of graded, dirt-and-gravel roads that ran though a wildlife preserve and a section of the San Isabel National Forest. That's where we saw the horses -- just chillaxin' in the road -- and the mule deer (that I thought were antelope). It was a long, bumpy arc to Salida, but certainly worth it for the views and the close encounter with a hummingbird on the side of Waugh Mountain.

We arrived in Ridgway after seven hours, chatted, and then made our way to the hot springs in Ouray. Again, it was nice to have a soak after a day on the road. And there was Friend Moon above Red Mountain to close out the day.






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Photos from days one and two are here.

Photos from day four are here.

Three weeks in the West,parts one and two

We left for Colorado on May 26, hoping to get as far as Omaha by the evening. We reached Lincoln by 7 p.m., but we encountered near-full campgrounds because of the Memorial Day weekend. We found a place, though, and marveled at the nighttime quiet: a big difference compared to holiday camping in Korea.

We left early on the 27th to continue the long haul across the Cornhusker State. At some point, while we listened to the audio from "Joseph Campbell and The Power of Myth," I decided we ought to veer off the highway to Denver and head for a small state park in eastern Colorado. Enormous storm cells and attendant lightning over the open plain discouraged that plan.

So we pushed on to Colorado Springs, where we paid a high price for a motel (Memorial Day, again)... but we were also able to have showers and cook up some waffles for breakfast.










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Photos from day three are here.

Do take the time to view the prelude. It's about an organic farm that we saw on the first day and took time to visit and have a meal at on the last day of our trip.

Exit for organics along I-80

Last things first in regard to our trip across the country...


On our way west toward Colorado last month, we noticed a sign for L.T. Organic Farm Restaurant outside of Des Moines. I can't recall why we didnt stop -- maybe we'd already eaten or stopped too many times in those first few hours. In any case, I circled the exit and we said we'd stop by on the way back to Illinois.

It's so good that we did.


L.T. Organic Farm is a small, family-run operation in Waukee, Iowa, that is managed by Ahilia and L.T. Bhramdat. The farm offers certified organic produce and chemical-/hormone-free livestock and livestock products. Seasonal vegetarian and non-veg meals are offered at the farm's restaurant, which also serves as a meeting place for those interested in learning about organic agriculture, natural medicine and the couple's East-meets-West Indian cuisine (Mr. Bhramdat hails from Guyana).

When we visited, we sat down to a meal of curried potatoes and beans, mixed greens and rice served with raita (a cucumber-yogurt dressing). Oh-so-good, oh-so-fresh... particularly satisfying after a couple of days of propane-prepared meals next to the tent. I enjoyed it so much, I didn't think to take a picture.

Anyhow, the farm operates as a CSA (community-supported agriculture), which means that local residents pay an upfront fee and receive fresh produce each week throughout the growing season. L.T. Organic Farm also donates food to low-income families through Iowa's Local Foods Connection program.

Before we ate, we walked around the farm with one of the Bhramdats' sons. He explained their farming methods: three-to-four-inch trenches dug the length of the acreage, with grass paths in between the rows to abate muddiness; catch-crop plants (weeds) allowed to grow alongside and into the rows so that insects can eat those plants instead of the food crops*; manure, mud and leaf-cover mulching; container-watering (the pole beans, for example, emerged from old steel cans that kept water close to the plant); and dense interplanting (two or three different vegetables grown all together in the long rows).



After we ate, we walked around a bit more and eventually talked with L.T. himself. He was quite happy to explain how and why he and his wife had undertaken this venture, leaving their work in professional health care to start a rural farm. The basic story is summed up in this article, Fresh Vegetables Beat Medicine:

"The Bhramdats moved to Iowa from Chicago seven years ago in search of a safer place to raise their growing family. He was a cardiac medical specialist at the time and she was a nurse. The longer they worked in hospitals, the more compelled they became to wage a war against what they believed to be the source of many people's conditions: the food they ate."

At one point during our discussion, Mr. Bhramdat looked toward the nearby subdivision and commented about how people have cultivated disease and imbalance around their homes, with their flat, manicured (and to the point) chemically treated lawns. Aside from the health effects that chemical fertilizers and pesticides pose, the fact that so many people don't use their land to grow food was astonishing to him. Those same people's ancestors, say in New England, he said, would have never had a flat, empty lawn because of the toil required to clear and maintain land in that state --and because it would've been used to provide food for themselves. We mentioned the widespread use of land for family agriculture that we saw in Korea, and our own bemusement at seeing vast areas of suburban development on what had been farms.

Earlier, Mr. Bhramdat's son had mentioned (and I'd just recently read myself) that one hundred square feet of garden space can provide enough food to sustain one person. So imagine what could be done with an acre.


Most of the Bhramdat's property was lined with beds, with pens for ducks, a goat or two, and a large show turkey to the sides. In the front, there were also box gardens for tomatoes, peppers and other herbs. It was an unmowed but well-managed dream to me -- but apparently it's an irritant to some of the neighbors, who moved to that part of the area for suburban homogeneity, not to see goats and clover and thistle. Fortunately, the agricultural zoning for the Bhramdat's property is grandfathered, so that space, at least, will retain its productive and Earth-nurturing qualities.

L.T. Organic Farm is located four miles west of West Des Moines at the Waukee/Booneville exit, #117, on Interstate 80. The address is 3241 Ute Avenue, Waukee, IA, 50263. Phone: 515-987-3561 or 515-987-9599. Email: ltfoodheals[at]msn[dot]com or llt[at]aol[dot]com. The restaurant is open seven days a week from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. between Mother's Day and Thanksgiving.

* I forgot the footnote again: My Lady Friend just told me about a farmer profiled in Michael Ableman's "Fields of Plenty" who planted his crops among established groundcover. This gentleman had discerned that more-or-less undisturbed fields had better soil health than cleared and cultivated fields. He planned to get to a point where he didn't even seed his crops, but instead let them self-seed along with everything else.

New Moon and Mercury Retrograde

My Lady Friend and I drove across the Great Plains, the Rockies, the High Desert, the Mogollon Rim and finally to the Grand Canyon and back. There will be virtual views, of course; but first, let's look to the sky:

The Moon conjunct with the Sun in Taurus at 10:23 p.m. on June 14, projected from Northern Illinois. Note Mercury in Gemini, which will begin its three-week retrograde swing on June 15. Many astrology writers mention a Sun-Moon conjunction in Gemini and the retrograde beginning in Cancer, but you know I don't play that.

New Moon is always a time to clear (or at least clean up) your table in order to move forward with new plans and tasks for the Moon cycle ahead. With MercRet in effect at practically the same time, one can see a real need to put things in order before taking that next step (backup data, recheck facts or plans, reconsider what you want to achieve, revisit an old project, etc). Since we returned from our trip a few days early, it'll be good to have the time to unpack, straighten up, and tend to concerns around the house.

Speaking of tending to things, here's what the Concentric Garden looked like before we left and upon our return.



Not sure what's up with the long herb bed at lower right and the empty-looking flower bed toward the upper left. But, as the motto of New Mexico states: Crescit eundo ("It grows as it goes.")