Berry delicious

Fresh-picked raspberries; pic does
not do bowl size justice...

It's the season for fresh berries, and here's a great tip for preserving that just picked flavor: make fruit leather! We tried this a couple of years ago and a friend liked it so much she said we should package it and sell it. Dang. Now that's a vote of confidence. 


Easy, healthy and delicious snack

While I can't take credit for making it myself, I picked the berries and then watched the procedure, and it's pretty darned easy. Blend fresh berries with SCOBYs  from your homemade kombucha, spread thinly on parchment paper or silicone drying sheets, and place in a dehydrator on low for about 10-12 hours (or in the oven if you don't have a dehydrator).

Finished product, coming off the silicone sheets

You can read some fun editorial along with instructions in Bon Appetit (go figure!), or on the Wellness Mama blog. Unlike Bon Appetit, though, we didn't use kombucha in the mixture, and we didn't add any herbs for flavor, as Wellness Mama did, nor did we add sugar (I don't think it's needed). 

Once the fruit mixture is sufficiently dry, wrap it in wax or parchment paper (if you used silicone sheets), then store in glass or plastic. This deliciousness will keep indefinitely; it'll last an entire year if stored in the freezer, assuming you can keep it around that long. Not only does it taste like fresh raspberries, but you'll do your microbiome a favor with the probiotics from the SCOBY. 

Thirst quencher

And here's a quick idea for a refreshing beverage, thanks to my cousin Gin, co-host of the YouTube channel, Almost Homestead. They have a cabin in the Cascade Mountain foothills, near Mt. Index, and they have great tips for living more sustainably. 

An easy and refreshing beverage

Place fresh fruit or berries in a Mason jar, add some sugar and fresh cut ginger, fill with water and put the lid on. Let it sit a couple of days, giving it a shake here and there, and then drink. It's a flavorful sparkling soda, with no nasty additives. You can refill with water and add more sugar to the mix at least a couple more times. 


We interrupt this program... 

Honestly, this post could have been about self-preservation after the few weeks I've had, but berries are a much lighter and prettier topic. And this blog is all about growing, after all, whether it's growing things or growing self. 

Onward. 

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here.

10 years: On anniversaries, getting started, starting over, and now

Our garden path, today

This month marks 10 years since I first wrote in this space—full of hope, excitement, and commitment to this new journey of writing—and gardening. 

The beginning

Growing Things started as a gardening blog, when we launched a community garden in our yard through Urban Garden Share, an online matching service for gardeners and homeowners (you can read more about that in the 'about' sidebar). But it quickly became personal when, a few months later, my partner and I separated after 13 years together. 

That first year I wrote with fervid commitment—at first it was fun as we transformed the garden space, and then it became a place to share my challenges, my pain, to express, and be witnessed. The name "growing things" took on new meaning, and the garden became a metaphor. 

Backyard

After that, even though the garden thrived, the blog languished as work and life took over. Just over a year after separating, he and I got back together, and began putting the pieces of "us" together in a new, different, and ultimately better way. 

Starting over

With help from an extraordinary therapist, he and I learned to relate to each other differently, to talk with each other and hear each other while noticing and monitoring our own filters. We learned to call each other on our stuff, gently but clearly, and even laugh about it, too. We both learned we got in our own way, and it was the "I" in the relationship who could fix it, not the we. So we focused on ourselves, and became capable of moving forward independently and together—interdependent, as we learned to call it. 

In the years following that first year, I worked hard to find my voice, both here and in real life. To speak up, not withhold or wither, to know my worth, know my value. To understand that life just is, and continue to nurture new ways of thinking and being. I still struggle on occasion with these—with my own self-confidence and the limiting beliefs that linger in the background, threatening to unearth themselves and derail me. 

But overall, I wouldn't trade any of these experiences. I've learned to be comfortable being uncomfortable, to be more brave, and that without challenges and pain, my life would be very different, and far less satisfying. 

Recommitting

Together and separately, we have dreams, goals, and ideas, respect how each other interacts with the world, and know we both act with our best interests in mind—no longer in our own way, or that of each other. 

Early years

Since this online journal came to be, he's traveled the world by ship, I've had a couple different jobs, and thanks to life's constant insistence that we grow and not get complacent, we've had many opportunities to further our inward journeys. 

To say it's occasionally been a slog, well, yes. Yes it has. Nothing seems to move at the pace we'd prefer. We've had countless bumps, hills, roadblocks, potholes, and the occasional crater slow us down. His recent work injury is the latest crater, with a 9 - 18 month healing window and an inability to do much with his right arm due to intense shoulder pain. A few years ago, I was laid off when my employer re-organized and I nosedived into a confidence crisis. A few years earlier, he took a circuitous route to a career change that required more learning and growing. And within those 10 years, our three precious furkids all took turns going over the rainbow bridge and for the first time, we are without cats. 

"In the shade of the old apple tree,
there's a place just for you and for me... "

And here we are, 10 years later. I'm still writing. We're stronger together. The garden continued until two years ago, when we ended the relationship with the current garden partners and made plans to sell the property. That's one of those slow parts—two years later, the city is still backlogged and we haven't moved forward. While my heart will ache when we finally say goodbye—I have often said I'd miss the Gravenstein more than I'd miss the house I live in, the tree and the property require more time, money, and resources than I can give them. It's more complicated than I'll go into here, but the house and garden are on separate lots, and given circumstances, keeping the house makes more sense than keeping the garden. 

While I'd love to kick things into higher gear—his healing, his work goals, the property sale, my developing career and personal goals, travel plans—there's not much I'd change. I know that through pain, we grow, and without it, we wouldn't have joy. 

We have a lot of joy in our lives, and much to be grateful for—good friends both near and far, a warm and (mostly) comfortable home, nourishing food, overall health, our careers (and my job), cars that get us where we're going, and plenty of resources and tools when we need them. We've even hung onto some of those earliest gardeners who became our friends, and I'm so grateful they continue on this journey with us. 

Lush life: first year with Urban Garden Share.  Shiv, 
our neighbor, often sang mantras to the plants, saying it 
helped them grow. Together, we created something amazing.  

This year I recommitted to writing and for the most part, I've penned my thoughts about once a week. Some posts take longer than others, or morph in an unexpected direction, so which day they publish isn't guaranteed. But I have a lot more to say and share, hopefully with insights that help those who join me here. Stay tuned. 

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find out more here.

How does your garden grow?

Since this started as a gardening blog (oh, so long ago, it seems), there might be a few of you who want to see the state of things. So here are some recent pictures.

While this blog morphed into something completely different, the garden remains a constant and, at times, a saving grace. Forrest and I have met many amazing people -- some still friends now, even though they're no longer gardening -- through Urban Garden Share, including Diane and Michael, our current garden companions. They insist that gardening comes first, work second (so much to learn from them!).

What a gift to pick fresh produce for a dinner salad, or saute' some bitter greens, or taste the sweetest, freshest, pea from a vine. There's even some cat mint for the little white cat. Our soil is second to none, so I know we're taking care of our wee spot on the planet.

Full circle: Sustainable Ballard's 5th annual Edible Garden Tour

We were sitting in the backyard when a woman walked around the corner of the house. "Would you like to be part of Sustainable Ballard's Edible Garden Tour? Your garden is really inspiring."

And so it is we're once again on the Edible Garden Tour - five years after the first, which was our first as a community garden. A few things have changed. The gardeners, for one, although several of them remain our friends. My neighbor, Shiv, is the exception, although he's brought family members along to help.

And all that work we did in 2009? Well, I have news for you. We have some invasive grass that's beyond tenacious. The layers of impermeable paper and plastic, along with the foot or so of bark, were no match for the invasives. And we have no shortage of various types of nightshade, holly, ivy, and brambles - and who knows what else. Oh - and oregano, lilac, ocean spray and maple. Who knew these would spread the way they do???

But that said, it's all coming together again this year. Thanks largely to Ice Jackson, as the bluetooth in my car so designates him (he's my ICE - In Case of Emergency - contact). He's now back from seven months at sea, and the garden is grateful. As I am. I think both the garden and I have felt parched, and his return is like quenching a long-held thirst.

I like gardening. There's something very satisfying about pulling weeds and watching seeds grow into edible plants. But because this yard is so huge, and there are so many weeds, it's just too much on my own. He is so much more able than I am - so much stronger, and allergy-free. That combination makes the work go much faster, and the visual sense of accomplishment that much more rewarding. And while so much work is required to keep it up, this garden continues to be a very special place.

The garden tour is Saturday, June 29 (here's the event website with details). If you're reading this and in the 'hood that day, come on by. I suspect it'll be a bit of a party.

May 2013: Getting started

May 2009: Getting started

June 2009: Edible Garden Tour day

Late Starts

Being somewhat new to growing 'real food' (I've grown herbs, greens, and flowers, and I've been around a lot of gardens, and somewhat recently, farms... ), it didn't occur to me - until it was long past the "six weeks prior to last frost" - that I would need to start some of my seeds in pots, indoors. And even if it had, I don't have a single inch of indoor space for extra plant pots.

I've started some anyway. Growing up, a delicious treat grew alongside the garden's edge - we called them 'ground cherries,' or 'husk tomatoes,' but they didn't really look like either. They were berry-like, small, sweet and yellow, and grew inside a husk. I've looked for seeds or starts for years and couldn't find them.

Apparently they're a type of Tomatillo and Territorial Seeds had a few organic types to choose from in the 2008 catalog. I ordered two varieties, but never planted them. In fact, I forgot about them until about a week ago.

Shiv had some no-longer-used pots, so I borrowed them and planted my seeds. I thought a greenhouse effect of some sort might help, so I re-purposed some plastic storage boxes, placing them over the pots to trap the heat. I think it might be working - I see wee plants popping up. Forrest seemed to think it could work, and did the same with some tomato seeds.

I'll keep you posted, and if they transplant successfully and actually produce fruit, you'll have to come by for a taste.