Native Sun Chokes

 It's time for Jerusalem artichokes, which are now marketed as "sun chokes." One friend says sun chokes are better than potatoes. Sun chokes are just a little bit sweet.

I like all the perennial vegetables (and fruits) that show up in my garden. I do hardly anything, and voila! There they are.

If i want to decolonize my diet, sun chokes are a good way to begin. They were grown by the indigenous peoples of North America. They are native to this continent. No fossil fuels were used in the transport of this vegetable. Just foot power. One foot for the spade to dig them up, and two feet to walk them from the garden to kitchen.

Delicious.

Big Move

The big move is happening. The seasons are changing. Potatoes and winter squash have been drying in the woodshed, along with the gladiolus corms. Now it's time for everything to move to the basement, so that the wood can start coming into the woodshed.

Onions and garlic are already in the basement, but i have to shuffle them around to make room for incoming vegetables. I need more shelf space.

They say that wood warms you twice: once when you stack it and once when you burn it. Potatoes and squash aren't nearly as heavy, but there's a lot of up and down on the basement stairs. Good exercise!

Change. It's the only thing that's constant.

No Potatoes

After 10 days away, we returned from vacation and stopped at the food co-op to stock up on supplies. No potatoes. No onions either.

This is where my personal "victory" garden comes in handy.  I have six meals of last summer's potatoes stored in my basement. Right outside the back door, the Egyptian onions are sprouting green. I can eat out of my garden, right now.

Mindfulness is never far away. Mindfulness brings us right into the present moment where peace lives. Yes, peace in this present moment. Right now.

Feel this moment. Don't fry your mind by lolly-gagging in the future. Come right back here to this present  moment. My moment is fine. How about yours?

Old Potatoes

All my red potatoes have sprouted down in the basement, even though i covered them with a towel to keep them in the dark.

Planting season is 3 months away, so i won't keep them for seed potatoes--although that idea is quite enticing.

Instead, i'm cutting off the sprouts and grating up those wrinkled red skins to make hash brown potatoes. Yes, the skins are wrinkled. They look old. The potatoes are not pretty, but they still are a vegetable contributing to my well-being.

We get old and wrinkled too. We sprout hairs in unexpected places. We sprout brown spots in unwanted places. But we are still good for something.

An old person eating old potatoes. Why not?

Thanksgiving Prayer

Max Coots’ Thanksgiving Prayer

Let us give thanks for a bounty of people:

For children who are our second planting, and though they grow like weeds and the wind too soon blows them away, may they forgive us our cultivation and fondly remember where their roots are….

For generous friends with hearts and smiles as bright as their blossoms;

For feisty friends as tart as apples;

For continuous friends, who, like scallions and cucumbers, keep reminding us that we’ve had them;

For crotchety friends, as sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;

For handsome friends, who are as gorgeous as eggplants and as elegant as a row of corn, and the others, plain as potatoes and as good for you;

For funny friends, who are as silly as Brussels sprouts and as amusing as Jerusalem artichokes, and serious friends, as complex as cauliflowers and as intricate as onions;

For friends as unpretentious as cabbages, as subtle as summer squash, as persistent as parsley, as delightful as dill, as endless as zucchini, and who, like parsnips, can be counted on to see you through the winter;

For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time, and young friends coming on as fast as radishes;

For loving friends, who wind around us like tendrils and hold us, despite our blights, wilts and witherings;

And finally, for those friends now gone, like gardens past that have been harvested, and who fed us in their times that we might have life thereafter;

For all these we give thanks.

A Rainbow of Potatoes

I planted potatoes yesterday--red, gold, and blue--while the moon is still waning. If you believe in planting by the moon, underground vegetables, such as potatoes, onions, carrots, beets, and parsnips, grow better when they are planted in the dark of the moon.

My sweetie hasn't liked potatoes because, he says, "they are starchy." But now that he has a bushel of allergies, potatoes are one of the few vegetables he can eat. That makes me happy: i remain a steadfast lover of potatoes.

I cut up the seed potatoes, leaving 2 eyes in each piece. Then i waited for 24 hours to plant them, eyes up.

Oh, if only we ourselves could "see in dark." The potatoes have to feel their way through the soil. They have no idea what color they are. To them, it makes no difference. For just a moment, can you feel your way through the (scary?) dark and feel the is-ness of life without words or labels?

I Hoed a Toad

This morning, while planting potatoes, i hoed a little
toad right out of the ground. She was surprised, and i was surprised.

Maybe you've felt sort of stunned yourself. For instance, when you're on retreat and something unexpectedly bubbles up from the sub-conscious or the unconscious. Maybe it's sort of ugly, which is a good reason to have repressed it all this time.

I just reviewed the last 12 hours of my father's life (18 years ago), and i suddenly saw it in an entirely different light.

Bringing things to light is part of what is called the purification process. We purify our minds, just like water is purified.

Surprising, yes! And unexpected. And lighter. I feel lighter without that dark thing hiding underground.

12 Fruits and Vegetables You Really Should Buy Organic

According to Andrew Weil, there are 12 fruits and vegetables you really should buy organic, due to the heavy pesticide loads these non-organic produce carry:

• Apples
• Strawberries
• Grapes
• Celery
• Peaches
• Spinach
• Sweet bell peppers
• Nectarines (imported)
• Cucumbers
• Cherry tomatoes
• Snap peas (imported)
• Potatoes

 No matter how much you wash these vegetables, you can't wash the pesticides out of them. And when you start thinking about potatoes--potato chips, french fries, hash browns--just how much pesticide do you want to eat?

Saying "No" to big beautiful California strawberries is not easy. Our sensual desire overwhelms us and whispers delicious rationalizations into our ears. We suddenly want to treat ourselves; we don't want to deprive ourselves of a big, beautiful, pesticide strawberry.

Sensual desire hinders our meditation and hinders our best intentions. But we want to see things as they really are. Look closely. And look again. Feel desire in your body.

You may be saving money by buying non-organic, but you are spending your health, your immune system, your very body.

Cultivating Generosity

The community garden i participate in increased its tillable size by 50 percent last week so we can plant a row for the hungry. Actually we're dedicating our new space to potatoes for the town Food Shelf. We're guessing we can raise 100 pounds.

The Buddha said, "If you knew what I know about the power of giving, you would not let a single meal pass without sharing it in some way." In our society, we barely share a meal with our nearest and dearest people who live with us, let alone friends or strangers.

Generosity is the very first in the list of 10 supreme qualities. We are growing potatoes in our community garden, yes, but more importantly we are cultivating generosity.