Car-free

As January arrives, I am celebrating my own anniversary. I have made it in California with no car for one year. Though I've already blown the punch line, here's the story. 

I bought my first car at 16, proud as any American to have graduated into vehicular independence. I never questioned its necessity, nor thought it odd that seemingly everyone owned a car. I didn't miss public transportation because to put it quite simply- I had never experienced it as a daily possibility. That all changed when I left my car and moved to New York City, where millions of every-day non-radical folks take public transportation and refrain from owning vehicles. There I too, learned to live without one. I took trains, buses, and subways everywhere I needed to go. I even commuted to see friends who lived hours away via public transportation. I did it because I didn't have a choice. And more importantly- I enjoyed it! I began to realize that there were other ways to be mobile, aside from personalized transportation. 

When I moved back to California to farm, my family assisted me in the purchase of a truck. A new truck. A big truck. A non-environmentally friendly, heavy duty, gas guzzling type of truck. Useful as it was when there was dirt to move and farmers markets to haul for, the truck outwore its welcome when I moved into town and began to work 40 hours a week at my computer producing movies. I could walk or bike anywhere I needed to. The truck lay idle. It accumulated parking tickets. I was paying for insurance, monthly payments, gas, maintenance up to $400 a month for...? Driving it once or twice. And on top of all of this, the environmentalist in me was screaming about peak oil and global climate change and air pollution and.... At that point, I woke up. 

I looked for options and I found out that a) Santa Cruz is pretty accessible by bike and public transport and b) a new program of car-sharing had just come to Santa Cruz. Enter- Zipcar. Not to promo for a private company, but Zipcar has revolutionized my life. Please google them if your curious about the details. I sold my truck, joined Zipcar, and upgraded my bike with Ortlieb panniers (another product placement). 

I now bike everywhere in town, and rent a Zipcar when necessary, which is usually about twice a month. I spend under $100 a month on total transportation and take the bus and train often. (The money from selling the truck is in a CD at my community bank from which the interest all but covers my expense.) I'm making it a personal mission to hold out on buying a car until I can buy a currently non-available plug-in hybrid or fully electric car. I am not holding my breath.

California still may be the place where it's taken for granted that you need to own a car. But as my one year anniversary without a vehicle rolls around, with my hot pink road bike, shapely thighs, and train pass in hand,  I have little hesitation looking into a car-free future.

"Daisy Chains and Milk Maids: An Open Letter to Michael Pollen"

I'm writing to recommend a scathingly insightful letter by Andy Griffin in critique of our food-writer in chief, Michael Pollen. I whole heartedly support this piece that comments on how Pollen continually fails to mention the backbone of our food system: farm workers.

Check it out here:

http://www.ladybugletter.com/?p=64 

Fire for Family

Every year my Grandmother hosts a Winter Solstice Celebration for her Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. She and the members of her community get together to light a bonfire, announce their wishes for the year, and share time in reflection as the shortest day of the year comes to an end. For the past couple of years, I've been able to lend to the ceremony by dancing with poi, small wicks on chains that I light on fire. It's one of my favorite ways I give back to my grandmother. I dance with fire for her and all of her friends, symbolically ushering out the dark and welcoming back the light. 

In Good Heart

I've shared with many about the movie that I've been working on for the past two years, but much of the work has been inexplicable. The making of  'In Good Heart: Soil and the Mystery of Fertility" has taken me across the globe to India, to the edenic farms of Wales, and to the polar glaciers of Norway. IGH will be a full length feature film all about soil and our interdependence with this mysterious underworld. The movie is not yet set to be released for another year now, but we've just launched our website, and I thought it fit to share. Please see the web address for more details. 

http://www.ingoodheart.com/ 

Ms Keds Oganic

For a few days, I thought I might be the new Keds organic model. Hand picked from a nation wide search of emerging green leaders in their twenties, last week I made it to the final round of cuts. The prize was to be 25,000 of donate-able money for the charity of my choice, and a lifetime supply of Keds organic shoes. Who could pass that up? I went back and forth about the possibility of representing a corporate green washing campaign, especially when my research availed that Keds are made in China by very young females. I contacted Global Exchange in San Francisco and coordinated with their labor specialist just in case I won. I was still dealing with the head trip of being able to donate money that was siphoned from wages in China back to organizations working on fair labor standards in China. One giant game of cat and mouse. However, Keds ended up choosing the other girl, the 25k isn't coming my way, and I'm excited that I don't have to get on a plane. 

The Edible Christmas Tree

I'm not entirely anti-Christmas tree. I love the ritual of going with the family to pick it out, I love the glowing light in the living room, and of course I love the smell. I just can't fathom spending sixty dollars on a dead tree that was shipped across the US to sit in my house for three weeks before it's thrown by the curb. 

About a week ago my boyfriend and I helped my parents wrestle their tree into their house. After the gargantuan tree was off the truck, up the two flights of stairs, and roped to the wall (we had one fall over at one point)- we stopped to admire its piny glory. At that moment Damian noticed the price tag- $120. To which he exclaimed "wow, that's five fruit trees." A week later, my newest Christmas tradition was born. The edible tree. This year I picked a citrus; valencia orange to be exact. I figure that by the time I'm 50 I'll have planted an orchard of Christmas trees. Sure I forgo the picking it out with the family and the lights are not as bright as the tree is small,  but least ways the smell is amazing. I have a Christmas tree that is blooming.

Olivos de Oro

Decades back, the Sacramento Valley produced olives commercially. I imagine that the fruit did well in the hot climate, and that Mediterranean families planted them in droves. But as many things in the central valley do, they fell the way of industrialization. The farms left are few and far between. The fact that Davis roads are now flanked with olive trees are a testament to those times. Relics of a former incarnation, the Davis trees now beg for foragers to relieve their heavy limbs. 

Last weekend, Damian and I joined other sustainable ag students in an olive harvest. The snap shot at left is the top of one of our bags (for all you Ortlieb pannier fans, they work fantastically as picking satchels). He and I picked just over a hundred pounds of olives, and then headed with the group to the press of Mike Madison, a local farmer who traded us the use of his press for a portion of the oil it will become. Again I am in awe of the simple pleasure of creating a seemingly intangible food product. Oil. Our hundred pounds will equal between one and two gallons of it. If petroleum oil is black gold, then what is olive oil? I would say liquid gold, but unfortunately the industry has also assumed that name. Keep it simple. Olivos de Oro. Oro de Olivos. Olives of Gold. Gold of Olives. 

In search of the perfect Home.

As a child I grew up in many houses. My parents are builders and we moved once or twice a year for my entire childhood. They would buy a house, tear it down, and then we'd live in it until it sold. And then we'd move on. From big house to small house, one side of town to the other. When my parents divorced they began to repeat the movement pattern on their own, and as such, my own movement doubled. I developed a strong skill of setting up home very quickly. I can feel at home nearly anywhere and have never really felt the need to set down deep roots or nest. But as I've grown into my mid-twenties, and subsequently taken a job that has me traveling all over the world my need to find a stable place to call home has become increasingly intense. In April I came across my answer- The Tiny House.

A growing movement, buyers and builders of Tiny Homes have been springing up all over the States. I have a mind to build one.

There are a ton of models on the web. The one in the pic is done by the Tumbleweed Tiny House Company out of Sebastapol California.

The reasons that I believe that this tiny house is my perfect home are several fold. First, the tiny house is in line with my ecological beliefs, it is an all around perfect low impact example (aka it can be fitted with solar and composting toilet). Secondly, it's low-commitment. I am still at a place in my life were I feel unable to commit to owning something larger than a studio. Lastly, this little house is built on the back of a horse trailer- that's right: it's mobile! I can't think of something more perfect for a wandering twenty five year old than an enchantingly small mobile-house. Now... if only I can figure out how one of these beauties fits into my life plan...

Barack the Nation

I am breathing daily sighs of relief. In each new city I visit since the election I see more signs of celebration and hope. In Miami, victory posters were erected. In Washington DC the train conductor told me he was calling in sick on Inauguration day. In New York tables have been set up all over town that present the opportunity for passerby's to buy any possible thing with the Obama theme.  Even with all of the hype, I wish our new president the best in these troubled times. I think that he is going to have a tough row to hoe unless all of those who voted for him pull together in support of his policies and ideas. May we all as citizens continue to hold him and our other elected officials accountable to their actions through continued participation in our representative democracy. Winning the election is not enough. I encourage everyone to continue to make their voice heard, believing that only through continued sustained pressure will we achieve a semblance of true democracy. Thankfully, Mr Obama has streamlined the process for us with his new transition website (note that it is concurrent with the philosophy that drove his campaign all the way to the white house.)  

Please check out:www.change.gov 

Transition Towns

In the final days of the move toward a new Administration, I'm turning my sights to the next political frontier. I believe that together, the economic crisis and the coming election in the US are going to create an opportunity for a new conversation in our political planning. The most inspiring thing I've come across yet is the Transition Town movement. Started by a former permaculture designer in the UK, the concept behind the movement is for communities to create energy decent plans incorporating transportation, food system, and civic planning- any city variable dependent on fossil fuels. Santa Cruz just started a chapter and I'm going to participate. The movement is inclusively designed, using Open-Space technology and wiki based websites. Looking forward to participating in the design of a new American social structure; one that is locally based, self-reliant, non- exploitive and above all- Resilient. 

http://www.transitionnetwork.org

http://transitionsc.org/