Beautiful. I think a lot about how easy it is not to know these things. To not know where my trash goes every week or the water it takes to grow almonds. I try to know where I can and I’m so grateful for our compost service. It’s painful when we travel and have to put all the food scraps in the trash.
What an amazing gathering it would be! Thank you for summoning us and reminding us we're already there.
I especially loved listening to this as I readied some seeds for planting (what I jokingly refer to as the squirrel buffet, because that's probably what it will amount to) including getting some compost ready from my indoor worm composters.
Absolutely this, thank you for nailing it. And I love the idea of people compost: work to be done, no hiearchy, no leaders, everyone has their part to play.
You are so wonderful, Antonia, and I've missed having the time to read your writing. What a joy this was. I love the ways in which you meander through the beautiful and destructive and weave them together. What really gets me here is your hopefulness, your connection to the land, and your connection to your local community. It inspires me to seek more connection where I am. Although I feel so separate from Florida as a concept, I do live here, and there are local farms and maybe even some compost I can use next year for planting things...thank you for this.
You really do extend the best symbolic invitations, the ones that produce the best kind of ache. (I still haven’t stopped thinking about your tea invitation I stumbled across in the comments of Swarnali’s piece!) It feels so important to keep a pulse on that desire, for the gatherings we know we need but don’t know how to create—and to extend the invitation in any form we can muster, even in the form of a wish. The question—how do we live together?—it’s not an impossibility, is it? I think it’s actually a lot more “possible” than whatever it is we’re doing now. It’s how to get from here to there—that’s what feels impossible. But we’ve got to keep a pulse on the desire if we’re going to find the way out of no way. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for an invitation I know would be a reality in a heartbeat if it weren’t for the miles between us.
Listening to this while I lay in the hammock and the shingles vax does its thing. I love how you and Erika Moen both share the gleeful centering of your garden lives. I envy the surfeit of flickers.
Loved listening to this as the city truck pulled up and dumped a pile of mulch on my driveway. I’ll have my own spreading party with my spouse and kids this weekend 😆 Sam also ordered topsoil and I have no idea where he plans to put it! Lol. So I may be reaching out to neighbors to see if we can share. I also heard the chickadee and a pair of ducks added their calls while I was listening to your recording too. Love listening. Thanks for sharing 🩷🩷
ACK! I can see that gathering and long for it so much. What a beautiful thing it would be if we could all join in as the soil warms, and we talk about what will rise from it over the warm months to come. The fire, the work, Moon. All of it. 💜
So, I'm waiting at the immigration office distracting myself with my handheld "misery rectangle" (borrowed phrase) when I read this: "That would be a gathering, wouldn’t it?" and the tears were/are ready. Such a clear vision. How wonderful it sounds! I know that I have more to say but for now, let it be thank you and yes, one day.
It's funny but currently living in our neighborhood in Istanbul, I have found we are somewhat limited in what produce we can get from the small fruit and veg shop down the street. Everything seems to be grown quite locally -- okay, not the pineapple! -- and I realize how relatively easily I've learned to make do with what's here and to not miss the mango and avocado and other things.
I'm no saint. I know I'll buy mango again at some point, but probably less of it knowing the environmental cost.
I’m in. I’ll come and shovel the compost with you all. I think there are great benefits from physical, grunt work to help us with all our cerebral writing shtick. And when that’s combined with something to do with growth, of gardens and a better world for all, even better.
"A gathering like that would be something like compost, where there are no hierarchies or leaders, no necessary suffering, no waste, and everyone has a part to play, a contribution to make, simply by existing. We could create our own human ground where the potential still remains for so much to grow."
We get close to this where I live, in many ways, with different groups. And we must. We must build this, build the future we want and need from the ground up.
Beautiful. I think a lot about how easy it is not to know these things. To not know where my trash goes every week or the water it takes to grow almonds. I try to know where I can and I’m so grateful for our compost service. It’s painful when we travel and have to put all the food scraps in the trash.
What an amazing gathering it would be! Thank you for summoning us and reminding us we're already there.
I especially loved listening to this as I readied some seeds for planting (what I jokingly refer to as the squirrel buffet, because that's probably what it will amount to) including getting some compost ready from my indoor worm composters.
Deep appreciation, as ever.
> how do we live together?
Absolutely this, thank you for nailing it. And I love the idea of people compost: work to be done, no hiearchy, no leaders, everyone has their part to play.
You are so wonderful, Antonia, and I've missed having the time to read your writing. What a joy this was. I love the ways in which you meander through the beautiful and destructive and weave them together. What really gets me here is your hopefulness, your connection to the land, and your connection to your local community. It inspires me to seek more connection where I am. Although I feel so separate from Florida as a concept, I do live here, and there are local farms and maybe even some compost I can use next year for planting things...thank you for this.
In the brief years I had a vegetable garden I grew choke cherries and loved them. Thank you for the thoughts and the memories
You really do extend the best symbolic invitations, the ones that produce the best kind of ache. (I still haven’t stopped thinking about your tea invitation I stumbled across in the comments of Swarnali’s piece!) It feels so important to keep a pulse on that desire, for the gatherings we know we need but don’t know how to create—and to extend the invitation in any form we can muster, even in the form of a wish. The question—how do we live together?—it’s not an impossibility, is it? I think it’s actually a lot more “possible” than whatever it is we’re doing now. It’s how to get from here to there—that’s what feels impossible. But we’ve got to keep a pulse on the desire if we’re going to find the way out of no way. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for an invitation I know would be a reality in a heartbeat if it weren’t for the miles between us.
Listening to this while I lay in the hammock and the shingles vax does its thing. I love how you and Erika Moen both share the gleeful centering of your garden lives. I envy the surfeit of flickers.
Sleepless busy minds require the calming of compost and all the yuk and yum it bestows on our body and soul
It's a lot to think about. I think about it a lot.
Oh you know I’d be there!
Loved listening to this as the city truck pulled up and dumped a pile of mulch on my driveway. I’ll have my own spreading party with my spouse and kids this weekend 😆 Sam also ordered topsoil and I have no idea where he plans to put it! Lol. So I may be reaching out to neighbors to see if we can share. I also heard the chickadee and a pair of ducks added their calls while I was listening to your recording too. Love listening. Thanks for sharing 🩷🩷
ACK! I can see that gathering and long for it so much. What a beautiful thing it would be if we could all join in as the soil warms, and we talk about what will rise from it over the warm months to come. The fire, the work, Moon. All of it. 💜
If we lived near each other, I'd gladly help with the compost!
So, I'm waiting at the immigration office distracting myself with my handheld "misery rectangle" (borrowed phrase) when I read this: "That would be a gathering, wouldn’t it?" and the tears were/are ready. Such a clear vision. How wonderful it sounds! I know that I have more to say but for now, let it be thank you and yes, one day.
It's funny but currently living in our neighborhood in Istanbul, I have found we are somewhat limited in what produce we can get from the small fruit and veg shop down the street. Everything seems to be grown quite locally -- okay, not the pineapple! -- and I realize how relatively easily I've learned to make do with what's here and to not miss the mango and avocado and other things.
I'm no saint. I know I'll buy mango again at some point, but probably less of it knowing the environmental cost.
I’m in. I’ll come and shovel the compost with you all. I think there are great benefits from physical, grunt work to help us with all our cerebral writing shtick. And when that’s combined with something to do with growth, of gardens and a better world for all, even better.
Loved our own human ground, Antonia.
"A gathering like that would be something like compost, where there are no hierarchies or leaders, no necessary suffering, no waste, and everyone has a part to play, a contribution to make, simply by existing. We could create our own human ground where the potential still remains for so much to grow."
We get close to this where I live, in many ways, with different groups. And we must. We must build this, build the future we want and need from the ground up.