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.
I feel the same. Food is so easy to turn back into life!
It's too easy, too, to be accused of trying to take all the joy out of people's lives by encouraging paying attention to the supply chains and damaged lives that provide for us. It's something else to realize we can find joy and pleasure in bringing our consumption closer to home, isn't it?
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.
Thank you, as always! And I hear you -- I am curious to see if any of the milkweed seeds I put in last fall survived the birds who were watching my activities closely.
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.
I _love_ the idea of rewinding! Picking the thread out, starting out over again, winding a different story this time, rekindling a near forgotten flame
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 are planting so much yourself, and deserve your own nurturing and care -- and people to make food that brings you pleasure and peace! 💚
I've only been to Florida twice. The first time, we didn't realize it was the Super Bowl weekend in Ft. Lauderdale, and ended up staying by that big lake further north and the highlight of the trip for me was randomly following trucks full of oranges as we drove around. Citrus does not grow where I live. I know Florida and agriculture is its own hot mess of a situation, but it was nice to see oranges in such abundance. Kind of like visiting my sister in California recently and seen lemon trees everywhere. You can just go pick a lemon! It's magical. 🍋
Thank you for this reminder to enjoy what is here! It's true— there are citrus trees in people's yards and I am always pleased (and I always have to stop myself from picking other people's lemons and grapefruits). And there are a couple organic farms where I live. I am so looking forward to being finished with coursework and being able to dip into the community a bit more. I've even thought about volunteering or working very part-time at a local farm just so I can feel closer to the land. For now I am going to go to the cute little farmer's market :).
That sounds beautiful. Where we lived in upstate New York there was a group that did seasonal gleaning on farms (with permission) and took the produce to food banks. A commons system! Of a kind, but it's a step at least.
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.
You're so kind, Shaina! And this would definitely also involve tea, but I'm still daydreaming of tree near Swarnali's home, soothing talk and hot beverages as heart balms.
I love how you put that, "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." I do, I do think it's important to awaken our imaginations, if they're asleep, to what is possible. How to get from here to there starts with believe we can, probably. Thank you. 💚
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.
Shingles vax! I hope the side effects aren't too bad, though no matter what it's better than getting shingles. I've known 3 people who had shingles and it sounds horrible. Good for you!
The flickers are wonderful, but I bet you have a richness of birdsong in that forest near you. 🐦⬛
This week I finally read Mannie Murphy's brilliant ode to River Phoenix, I Never Promised You A Rose Garden (highly recommend). Then I remembered how bad Murphy crashed out with shingles last year and went right in for my first shot. My childhood chicken pox event coincided with a full-leg cast; didn't want shingles to go try and top that.
So, so true. I wish I could put my hands in the dirt on those nights. Maybe I should try it when the weather warms. The stars help, when they're visible. ✨
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 🩷🩷
Oh how fun! And that brings back a lot of memories. In our old house in upstate New York, we had a truckload of mulch delivered a couple of times. Once, we went for the steeply discounted mulch -- cheaper because it had started rotting. It was so rank! It took us all summer to move it all, and it stank so much. Sour like ... something I don't want to think about probably.
I'm glad the birds came through, and I wish you and your family could be here! I would love to just sit and talk and listen and let the kids watch the deer graze the yard ...
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. 💜
All of it! I look at all the people here, reading the comments and the connected minds and longing for this kind of time and gathering and connection, and suddenly want it to be real so badly. Moon watching over us all.
I would love that! That's some kind of freedom, isn't it? To have room for a garden and compost, and the time to help friends deal with it all. There's a dream to hang onto.
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.
How I would love love love to host you in the garden, Sherri! What conversations we would have and what wonderful strawberries we would eat (if you like strawberries -- the raspberries have also finally established themselves). 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 do buy the occasional mango. 😉 Sadly it's disappointing after living in a place where they grew. But you're right, it's amazing how easy it is to adapt when you're not given the obvious options. Even in far north places like where my father's from, there are all kinds of berries. It just takes a little more planning and effort. But it tastes so good!
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.
Yes please! That would be wonderful. This was just a thought-thread, but the more I imagine what that would be like, with all the people here who care about the world, the more I think of how lovely it would be.
And I do believe strongly that physical action makes our creativity better! Hard not to after all the research I did on walking for my book. It's really true.
Thank you for loving your ground, and all the ground, Nicolas. 💖
I
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.
I feel the same. Food is so easy to turn back into life!
It's too easy, too, to be accused of trying to take all the joy out of people's lives by encouraging paying attention to the supply chains and damaged lives that provide for us. It's something else to realize we can find joy and pleasure in bringing our consumption closer to home, isn't it?
Ooh yes. Finding joy over guilt is much more motivating.
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.
Thank you, as always! And I hear you -- I am curious to see if any of the milkweed seeds I put in last fall survived the birds who were watching my activities closely.
> 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.
And then maybe some rewinding ... 🌱
I _love_ the idea of rewinding! Picking the thread out, starting out over again, winding a different story this time, rekindling a near forgotten flame
I meant to write "rewinding" but didn't notice the autocorrect 😂 I like this characterization of rewinding, too! Like a spool. 🧵
REWILDING!
Good grief.
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 are planting so much yourself, and deserve your own nurturing and care -- and people to make food that brings you pleasure and peace! 💚
I've only been to Florida twice. The first time, we didn't realize it was the Super Bowl weekend in Ft. Lauderdale, and ended up staying by that big lake further north and the highlight of the trip for me was randomly following trucks full of oranges as we drove around. Citrus does not grow where I live. I know Florida and agriculture is its own hot mess of a situation, but it was nice to see oranges in such abundance. Kind of like visiting my sister in California recently and seen lemon trees everywhere. You can just go pick a lemon! It's magical. 🍋
Thank you for this reminder to enjoy what is here! It's true— there are citrus trees in people's yards and I am always pleased (and I always have to stop myself from picking other people's lemons and grapefruits). And there are a couple organic farms where I live. I am so looking forward to being finished with coursework and being able to dip into the community a bit more. I've even thought about volunteering or working very part-time at a local farm just so I can feel closer to the land. For now I am going to go to the cute little farmer's market :).
That sounds beautiful. Where we lived in upstate New York there was a group that did seasonal gleaning on farms (with permission) and took the produce to food banks. A commons system! Of a kind, but it's a step at least.
In the brief years I had a vegetable garden I grew choke cherries and loved them. Thank you for the thoughts and the memories
Chokecherries are one of my favorites! I'm so glad you got to grow them.
I can’t believe I haven’t found you before!! So glad Amanda Hinton shared this because it is all right up my alley!
Amanda is such a wonderful connector! I found you through her, too. 😀
🖤🖤🖤
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.
You're so kind, Shaina! And this would definitely also involve tea, but I'm still daydreaming of tree near Swarnali's home, soothing talk and hot beverages as heart balms.
I love how you put that, "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." I do, I do think it's important to awaken our imaginations, if they're asleep, to what is possible. How to get from here to there starts with believe we can, probably. Thank you. 💚
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.
Shingles vax! I hope the side effects aren't too bad, though no matter what it's better than getting shingles. I've known 3 people who had shingles and it sounds horrible. Good for you!
The flickers are wonderful, but I bet you have a richness of birdsong in that forest near you. 🐦⬛
This week I finally read Mannie Murphy's brilliant ode to River Phoenix, I Never Promised You A Rose Garden (highly recommend). Then I remembered how bad Murphy crashed out with shingles last year and went right in for my first shot. My childhood chicken pox event coincided with a full-leg cast; didn't want shingles to go try and top that.
I might have to look that up -- the only book I know of by that name is a novel based on the author's schizophrenia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Never_Promised_You_a_Rose_Garden_(novel)). This sounds different!
And yeah, let's keep the viruses at bay and our legs out of casts. That sounds brutal.
Oh yeah, this is Not that book. This is THIS book: https://www.fantagraphics.com/products/i-never-promised-you-a-rose-garden
Sleepless busy minds require the calming of compost and all the yuk and yum it bestows on our body and soul
So, so true. I wish I could put my hands in the dirt on those nights. Maybe I should try it when the weather warms. The stars help, when they're visible. ✨
It's a lot to think about. I think about it a lot.
Think about it while moving compost! 🙃
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 🩷🩷
Oh how fun! And that brings back a lot of memories. In our old house in upstate New York, we had a truckload of mulch delivered a couple of times. Once, we went for the steeply discounted mulch -- cheaper because it had started rotting. It was so rank! It took us all summer to move it all, and it stank so much. Sour like ... something I don't want to think about probably.
I'm glad the birds came through, and I wish you and your family could be here! I would love to just sit and talk and listen and let the kids watch the deer graze the yard ...
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. 💜
All of it! I look at all the people here, reading the comments and the connected minds and longing for this kind of time and gathering and connection, and suddenly want it to be real so badly. Moon watching over us all.
If we lived near each other, I'd gladly help with the compost!
I would love that! That's some kind of freedom, isn't it? To have room for a garden and compost, and the time to help friends deal with it all. There's a dream to hang onto.
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.
How I would love love love to host you in the garden, Sherri! What conversations we would have and what wonderful strawberries we would eat (if you like strawberries -- the raspberries have also finally established themselves). One day.
"Misery rectangle." Perfect!
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 do buy the occasional mango. 😉 Sadly it's disappointing after living in a place where they grew. But you're right, it's amazing how easy it is to adapt when you're not given the obvious options. Even in far north places like where my father's from, there are all kinds of berries. It just takes a little more planning and effort. But it tastes so good!
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.
Yes please! That would be wonderful. This was just a thought-thread, but the more I imagine what that would be like, with all the people here who care about the world, the more I think of how lovely it would be.
And I do believe strongly that physical action makes our creativity better! Hard not to after all the research I did on walking for my book. It's really true.
Thank you for loving your ground, and all the ground, Nicolas. 💖