Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Gardeners Questions?

Growing in Haringey 2014 Gardeners Questions 

Bring your questions – and answers; meet others interested in gardening and all that goes with it; and share news about what’s going on in the very active local and community gardening networks hereabouts!

3rd Thursdays of month, 6.30-8pm at 
Big Green Bookshop, (Brampton Park Rd, off Wood Green High Rd, N22) 

Mar 20 How much food do people around here grow? 
How important is locally grown food -- for health, sustainability, and quality of life? How can we find out about what is already being grown and by who, how many would like to grow more and what would help them with this?

No April session – too close to Easter

May 15 Pollinators, pests and predators: mini-beasts in garden ecology 
How important are our gardens to local bee-keepers, to the bumblebees and other native pollinators that fertilise fruit and seeds, and to the mini-beastie creepie-crawlies that Buglife calls ‘the small things that run the world’? What can we do to help them help us? (You can bring photos/specimens for ID)

Jun 19 Climate-proof gardening
We might be lucky with the weather, for a change, but chances are we’ll be facing either another wash-out summer, or drought, again! Your tips and experiences on ‘climate-proofing’ your gardening?

 Jul 17 Wild harvests and urban forage 
Even in densely built up cities, there’s a surprising amount of free fresh food available if you know what to look for….

Aug 21 Finding space to garden?
Containers and balconies, roof gardens, garden shares, guerrilla gardening – and reclaiming neglected patches of green-space as community gardens – bring your experiences, and find out how others hereabouts have tackled these challenges. What more is needed to let everyone who wants to garden have space to grow?

Sep 18 Why save your own seeds -- and how to?
Breaking the power of the market, local and heritage varieties – but under threat from EU rules!

Oct 16 Celebrating harvest season How’s it been for you?

Nov 20 How much do gardens matter in modern cities, and why?
 Looking back over the year, and forward to next growing season – what does gardening mean to you?

Dec? -- Maybe a Xmas party if we feel like it?

22 Feb 2015 Seed Swap Sunday! 

More about Big Green Bookshop: http://www.biggreenbookshop.com/ 



 

Monday, 2 January 2012

Sparrowhawk

In the winter-bare
Apple-tree, the sparrow-hawk’s golden eye:
A fierce-glowing small sun.

Monday, 14 March 2011

Magnolia stellata

This week, my magnolia
Is in star, a white galaxy.
Spring supernova!

Spring bursting out all over: purple-blue pulmonaria (lungwort) carpet the front garden, under the star magnolia, mixed in with crocuses. Grape hyacinths (muscari) are pushing up their flowering stalks, so are forget-me-nots. My Maysie Memorial Garden at the end of the street is a mass of crocuses and daffodils, with patches of lungwort and forget-me-not starting to do their stuff. Interesting to note that the west-facing (afternoon sun) side seems to be coming out about two weeks in advance of the east-facing (morning sun) side, which the sun has to warm up from night-time chill before it passes over to an already warmed up west side. Down the allotment, I sowed some rows of brassicas and radish today, lured down by sunny morning, with the soil warm to the touch. Then a chill east wind brought clouds, and I headed back to city life.

I planted out shallots and leek seeds into the same bed a couple of weeks ago, and have two beds of broad beans, early peas and lettuce. dug up what will be this year's potato bed at the weekend -- which may have something to do with his back now creaking and requiring pummelation. I'll probably 'pink manure' red orache and cornflower seed liberally over beds not needed for early planting -- let them fallow over April.

Having taken on co-chairing Growing in Haringey, the umbrella network for community gardens and sustainable food activity in the borough, I now need to do paperwork -- secured a small 'Local Lead' grant from Capital Growth, so have to organise getting it spent. The key thing we're using it for is to pay for at least a small amount of core organising work, to hold together communications. keep track of the various things being done on volunteer basis, and manage event organising particularly for the summer round of local outdoor festivals. Better get back to it...

Thursday, 3 March 2011

Hature heals trauma (cultural ecosystem service)

Or: "gardening isn't really about gardening, it's about life":

"Nature has a place for those most damaged by torture" is the headline on a Medical Foundation for care of Victims of Torture leaflet on their 'Natural Growth' gardening project, sub-headed "The healing power of a garden" -- "It is a place where people who have been tortured find moments of peace. it uses the power of nature to bring people back from the brink of mental disintegration. Perhaps the best way to explain is to tell the story of one of the people whom the garden has helped."

The 2007 film 'Growing Your Own' about asylum seekers on a Liverpool allotment site, and the 'Laying Down Roots' TV documentary which sparked it off, also dramatise this theme, of the healing power of nature for recovering from trauma.

From Valentine Low's review in the Evening Standard, 18/5/2007:
"It shows what happens when a group of refugees are given plots on an allotment to help them overcome their trauma, and how they fare when they encounter the entrenched values of the traditional English working-class plot-holders (with an avaricious mobile-phone company to add some spice to proceedings).

In short, Grow Your Own is not a film about gardening. But then gardening isn't really about gardening, either; it's about life. Half the people who are down on their allotment at the weekend, digging their potatoes, planting their Brussels sprouts, are not doing it for the fresh fruit and vegetables they will get at the end of it - they are doing it to escape the drabness of their home lives, to get away from the pressures of their job, or to connect in some atavistic way with the seasons and the earth in a way that we, as city dwellers, have fundamentally forgotten."

And link to Guardian film review: http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2007/jun/01/1

Pasted from

In parallel, I'm writing up how the 'cultural ecosystem services' relate to 'value'. Although subjective 'values' are part of monetised economic values -- both attributed and actual market prices -- monetisation is an unsatisfactory and clumsy way of dealing with 'value', as many have argued.

But working with the 'cultural' ecosystem services -- emotional, cognitive and ethical responses to nature -- and with cultural patterns of norms, values and ways of behaving is the basis for what are being called 'participative-deliberative' techniques and approaches -- working with people, involving them in decisions and action planning. PDT approaches aren't a magic wand -- but they give at least a prospect of success rather than certainty that any social or environmental 'solution' will fail if it is designed without the involvement of those who you're relying on to make it work. They are simply the way that people work -- as emotional, ethical, cultural primates with highly developed cognitive curiosity and contrariety.

Once you start thinking about the 'cultural' (emotional, ethical, knowledge) aspect of nature, examples rain all around, daily, hourly.
Does the 'asylum seekers - gardening - psychological healing' example connect with the question of how to prove 'value of nature'. "Perhaps the best way is to tell the story..." says the Medical Foundation, and of course a piccture of a woman gardening accompanies the story. That is the level on which, again and again, in many ways, the 'cultural' meaning and appeal of nature gets used to argue the case, to interpret what really matters -- both for environmental and social values,

Sunday, 28 November 2010

'Cultural ecosystem services' in everyday life

'Cultural ecosystem services' in everyday life

Leave aside (re)defining just what role 'culture' plays in ecosystem services -- I'm currently writing up an 'unwrapping' of this, working title 'Nature in the Mind'. Once you (I) start looking for them, the texture of daily life is thick with them. Here's a tally from my recent days:

Yesterday (Friday): sunshine!

Maysie Memorial community garden:
quick weed/clear-up session. Two 'social relations' roles: 1) working there is as much episodic conversation with passers-by as it is gardening -- older, settled residents who know about it, and others asking about it. This session, I was offered a hydrangea bush -- and decided that we might as well expand the garden area to accommodate it, and some fuchsias that others have offered, and make more space for the lavender and rose bushes I ordered from our Council grant. 2) The site, where our residential street meets a local main (distributor) road used to be heavily littered -- these days, very little litter. I think this is a combination of less being dropped now it's a garden, rather than just dog-emptying grass, and passing residents picking up litter as their contribution to the garden. Whenever, I produce a newsletter, it thanks people for helping keep the garden litter-free. Interesting how many people just don't see the noticeboard there despite having just walked past it -- large, bright green -- until I mention it to them.

I contemplate the problem of pigeons: vast herd of them trampling one end of the garden. They are used to finding whole or half loads of bread, and dropped take-aways from the shops across the road. Realise that once the roses and lavender go in, they should provide reasonably effective anti-pigeon baffles. Must draw a 'please do not feed the rats' sign for the noticeboard -- or ask some of the local kids to do it.

Broadwater Farm/Lordship Rec:
Walk through Downhills Park, past the new clay-puddled pond (about half-full), into Lordship Rec --past the wildlife woodland, then along the (culverted) Moselle, where more of the ancient willows are being cut right back to their trunks, to the Community centre, where a friend who lives at the Farm is holding her 60th birthday lunch at the weekly 'Community Cafe'. This is run by Back to Earth, a small local social enterprise/charity, as part of much more ambitious plans to 'Revive the Rec'. The cafe provides food hygiene and catering training and certificates, which draws in Farm residents -- the cafe features a different national cuisine each week. Last Friday each month a Food Co-op runs alongside it -- organic veg direct from a nearby (Herts) farm, and range of organic dry goods. I've volunteered to help on it next week, so check what time to turn up. Three of the dozen or so birthday group are allotmenteers -- one a neighbour on our allotment site -- so we talk gardening.

Daffodil sharing: I take some spare daff bulbs around to the old British Legion building -- now Chances Club, another local social enterprise. I ordered 50kg at bulk wholesale discount as part of our Maysie Garden order, so am now sharing the spares around. I'm working down a little list of about 20 local places and projects: church, arts centre, other community gardens... Lots of lights on at Chances, but no-one answering the doors.

Fox: gate open down to the railway track back of the sports centre, with 10-12 yo boy hanging just inside. I stop, wondering what I should say about danger, trespassing. He puts his finger to his lips and whispers "There's a fox!" In the dusk, I don't expect to make it out until it moves, but gradually resolve a foxy face and ears, and coiled up body and tail, lying in the tussocky grass on the far side of the track. It promptly stands up, stretches, and disappears into the brambles behind. The Turkish-looking lad and I head on down the street; I pull the gate as we go.

Ferry Boat Inn for dinner: walk down to the Lea, swans swinging through pearly mist and reflected lights, past the Paddock Local Nature REserve, to our local country gastro-pub by the Walthamstow Reservoirs SSSI/SPA/Ramsar site. More swans, mistier when we walk back home again.

Thurs: skulk indoors, theorising 'culture as process' which mediates all human interaction with nature. Autumnwatch and Unsprung on the evenings TV menu: focus on starlings. We've not had them turn up at our back garden feeder so far this winter -- though the robin and blackbird are now in attendance. We get blue and great tits, sparrows and chaffinches, goldfinches and three types of pigeon (collared, wood, feral) all year -- blackbird, robin and wren mainly just as winter visitors. JN is backgarden bird cafeteria manager -- keeps the feeders full, mail orders big bags of bird-feedery.

Weds: swim at sports centre -- at one with my inner fish. Murals: tropical island paradise at shallow end beyond the kiddie-pool,Mediterranean fishing village at the deep end. Both, of course, as seen from the sea lapping them. Pigeons and seagulls shuffle on the translucent roof panels, presumably for heat that rises up from the pool, the seagulls distinguishable by leaner shape, more distinct feet even when not strutting about, and gleam of white breast.

Before that? Memory gets patchier. Last weekend: Horniman Museum on Sunday -- world-famous anthropological collection -- but very poorly labelled. Set in gardens, but its dripping with rain so we duck inside. I'd noted from the info that it has a natural history collection: huge stuffed Wandering Albatross, but the main natural history galleries under renovation. But: in the kiddie-teeming 'nature box' room there's a live glass-sided bee-hive, a mass of real live bees, the queen marked with a white spot. In a corner, a case of dried grasses -- then I spot a tiny furry face with beady eyes that vanishes with the flick of a long tail -- harvest mice! Real live teensy-weensy micromus! And down in the basement, an aquarium -- its stars a case of spectacularly graceful black-star nettle jellyfish, a ballet of pulsing parasols and long, long, long elegantly trailing silver strands catching the light against a deep blue background. In other cases: a yellow sea-horse, hermit crabs, a Caribbean swamp with four-eyed fish and a shy chap whose head just popped up from his burrow in the mud every now and then. And of course, a tropical reef -- a real live screensaver -- with a kaleidoscope of multi-colour fishies including the obligatory Nemos bathing in the tickling tentacles of their sea-anemones.

Allotment on Saturday: harvested raspberries, corn salad, sorrel, alexanders, rocket and garlic mustard leaves, mass of chard. JN pollarded back as much as he could reach of the sycamores along the (south) boundary hedge. Light faded before I got around to sowing broad beans. Must sort out seed collection, so know what to order for next season. Must remember to bring along saved shallots and get them into the ground. Must empty out the made compost from 'dalek' bin -- now, which bed should get it? Dumped half a sack of old horse manure onto the rhubarb, as both blanket and feed.

Before that, Friday: manifestation of St David of Attenborough, bringing ancient fossils to life. With added Richard Fortey, several of whose suberb books we've acquired and read -- including Trilobite! and Earth: an intimate history. I also have, sitting on my bedside 'To Read' chair, 'David Attenborough -- Amazing Rare Things: the art of natural history in the age of discovery' -- the book of an exhibition of the Queens holdings of five natural history artists including da Vinci.

Somewhere in there: hyperbolic coral reef crocheting -- colourful plastic bags cut up into 'plarn' strips, and crocheted up a couple of coral creatures from some of them, as TV-watching handiwork, by way of prep for running a 'crochet coral reef' activity stall at next Sustainable Tottenham 'Skill-share', 5th Dec at Chances, if you're in the area. Background info will cover the collapse of marine biodiversity, death of turtles, and the floating 'plastic continent' at the heart of the Pacific (and Atlantic?) gyre. I have also been actively procrastinating about repotting various house-plants, planting up tulip bulbs into window boxes for spring, err long list...

Nature, and ideas and imagery, attraction and enjoyment of nature, just permeate human life -- even in the densely built up megalopolis. We use nature to humanise the bricks, tarmac and cement of the ant-heaps we live in.

Friday, 19 November 2010

Hibernation season?

Grey days close in, leaves are stripped from the trees, and the seasonal clutch of 'Seasonal Affective Depression Syndrome' articles appear on 'health & lifestyle' media pages. Personally, I reckon SADS comes down to modern industrial economies that make no concession to the desire to just curl up and hibernate until the sun comes back. We're not phsiologically adapted for proper deep hibernation, metabolism shutting down for the duration, nor is the UK cold and dark enough to warrant it. Nor, as a species that left Africa a mere 100,000 or so years ago, are we adapted to short winter days and waking up while the world is still dark. Until the Industrial Revolution, there wasn't much alternative to winter slow-down, huddling around hearth-fires -- just venturing out to top up wood and fuel supplies, or throw a defiant, fire-centred winter festival. But coal, oil, nukes make artificial light, tarmacked over muddy roads to keep trade and transport running, kept machinery clacking over -- and humans rat-racing to keep up. I've found two approaches that help deal with the winter cooped-up, stir-crazy depression: one is ways of upping my sunlight, the other indulging the hibernatory instinct. I suspect most of us use pretty much these strategies to cope without special sunlight SADS lamps.

Getting an allotment has helped immensely: we head down there most winter weekends, just to check it over, and end up spending a couple of hours, usually until the sun goes down -- there's always more than we remembered that we really ought to potter into order. A couple of hours down the allotment seems to provide sufficient sunlight 'fix' to last most of the week, even on a grey day -- out under the open sky it is always much brighter than it looks from inside.

By contrast with outside, inside the house even with the lights switched on is very dim, much lower light levels. This really came home to me after we put a 'solatube' above our home stairwell, to channel natural sunlight down through the heart of the house. On clear days, it's bright as a floodlight, extravagantly stronger than any normal home lightbulbs, even the 120 watt equivalents in our living room. So I recommend solatube or lighttube (google them) as zero-carbon SADS treatments.

Number three 'light and bright' adaptation is going swimming in a tropically heated turquoise pool -- the one just behind our house even has tropic murals painted on the walls at each end. The exercise itself, getting the endorphins kicking along,in itself helps see off depression. Despite having spent a lifetime avoiding organised sports and embracing laziness, even I found that a winter of being cooped up indoors (or in Tube trains) left me craving muscular exertion. Yep, not adapted for proper hibernation.

Hibernatory behavioural adaptations: the unforgiving pace of modern life, at least in London, makes it harder to actually slow down and opt out -- but I find that simply acknowledging those mornings when you just can't tear yourself out of the warm cavern of bed-covers into the cold world, or just want to curl up and drowse, as perfectly justifiable and sensible hibernation helps a lot. So of course do the traditional stodgy warming comfort foods -- soups, stews, puddings, choccies -- and cosy woollies to huddle into.

I wonder what research has been done on relative incidence of SADS in dog-owners and others who spend regular time outdoors in winter, compared with those who don't -- or on change in incidence of SADS after taking up outdoor winter activity?

Monday, 27 September 2010

Barefoot Indicator of Well-being?

Whenever I see ‘going barefoot’ used to mean pitiable poverty, I think of my own barefoot childhood. Sure, growing up in Australia, we had shoes if we needed them or were forced into them: go to school, dress nice to go into town or go visiting, dress up for a party. But soon as we were released from propriety, off went shoes, sandals and out with bare wriggling toes. For us, running round barefoot was freedom.

Tough leathery soles able to withstand the prickles of clover burrs, vicious ‘double-gee’ and ‘bindi-eye’ thorny seeds were a badge of pride; we competed to stand longest on searing black bitumen road surfaces ‘hot enough to fry an egg’ (but were never allowed to waste an egg on testing this). I recall the shock, when I went off to university in small-city Perth, finding that wearing shoes was expected – but soon enough, at least around the campus, I was “Oh – you’re the one who goes around barefoot.” It was only when I moved to big-city Sydney that the amount of broken glass and dog-crap underfoot forced me into footwear more often than not. Living in London, the combination of grunge, broken glass and cold climate has consigned my feet to growing soft and lily-white in uncomfortable confinement that rubs into blisters and distorts toes into bunions.

So when I see pictures of barefoot children, my first response is envy -- kids shoeless in grubby t-shirts doesn’t in itself signal pitiable poverty to me. Rather, I’d suggest the degree to which life conduces to smiling barefootedness should be seen as an indicator of well-being – especially for children. Given that the UK has been found worst in the OECD for childrens well-being [add ref/s], a child-focused wellbeing indicator seems sorely needed. Such an indicator, I suggest, could comprise three physical environment and three social factors.

Physical environment factors

These are fairly simple and obvious practicalities -- places where you don’t need shoes for protection and comfort are simply better places to live. Well-being indicators to date tend to ignore this – but it matters, it makes a difference. The second and third link to more complicated issues of social judgement – what is ‘safe enough’?

1) Comfortable climate – number of days per year when outside temperatures are neither too unbearably hot nor too cold for going barefoot. Existing indicators tend to leave out the ‘gift of nature’ contribution that comfortable climates make to the well-being of those who live there – or count its value just as an attractor for rich tourists and incomers but not as something that economists and policymakers should weigh in the economic balance of what matters to the local people.

I recall being startled to see an Encyclopedia Britannica back in the 1970s or so using ‘households with central heating’ as one of their summary set of national comparators: the implication was that the more households had central heating, the better off the country and its inhabitants. But why would anyone in Australia, or New Guinea, or any other tropical or semi-tropical country want central heating? Central heating is an expensive compensation for living in too cold a climate—with depressingly short dim days and long dark nights. More recently, I’ve come across ‘homes with air-conditioning’ used similarly as a national performance indicator -- but air-conditioning is almost always counter-productive and energy-wasting compensation for bad architecture that neglects natural orientation, shading and ventilation design often well used in traditional vernacular building forms, which allow better physiological adaptation to the prevailing outside temperatures. These both valorise technical fix expenditure to compensate for uncomfortable climates, giving superior scores to ‘developed’ economies in uncomfortable places. They impose an inappropriate Euro-US standard that lets ‘Us’ look down on ‘Them’. Let’s bring in an indicator that respects the value of places with enviable climates that don’t need defensive techno-fixes nor expenditure – places where people can comfortably choose to go barefoot.

2) Safe clean terrain – streets where glass and other litter is not dropped, or is cleared up swiftly; streets not dominated and made dangerous and hostile by traffic – even more crucially, streets and bush not littered with land-mines, unexploded ordnance, barbed wire of current or past armed violence. That is, where human activities don’t make walking and running about a threat to life and limb. These hazards are all bad for health, imposing mental stress as well as risk of injury. They are signs of social distrust and conflict.

There’s a huge body of research literature about the harmful social impacts of traffic on individuals and communities – and a growing international experience of the positive differences that ‘traffic-calming’, home-zones and other measures that clear streets of traffic and reduce traffic speed produce as children come out to play again and neighbours come out to say hello to each other.

Availability of ‘natural green spaces’ for children’s play and public recreational access – parks, riversides and seashores, rights of way and space to roam – all help make health and happiness. With increasing concern about rising levels of obesity associated with lack of physical activity (as well as with wrong eating), the ‘walkability’ of places is becoming recognised as vital for public health – taking this up a level into ‘playability’ of places goes the next step further in humanising the tarmac jungles and other built environments we inhabit..

3) Safe enough from parasites, poisons and infection risks – during a spell living in New Guinea, we had to wear flip-flops (thongs, getas) or sandals whenever we went outside, so that parasitic hookworms wouldn’t wriggle in through our bare soles. However, while living on a sheep farm where dried-up disintegrating sheep poo was pervasive, that potential health risk didn’t cramp our barefoot style (but we did resort to footwear when working in fresh-dung-encrusted sheep-yards). Risk judgements are seldom clear-cut; with familiarity, what strangers fear is treated by locals as easily manageable. So this will usually come down as much to social norms about good parenting as it does to actual risk. It’s often a matter of the tribe of kids knowing what dangers to look out for: we knew to watch out for things that look like sticks but might actually be a snake, and not to kick into dark crevices where a poisonous spider might lurk.

Social factors

Wearing shoes is as much or more a social signal – of status, of respectability, of fashion – than about practicality. My argument is that a social climate with mores that stigmatise barefootedness is one of unhealthy pressures and constraints – while social climates which allow going barefoot as normal and acceptable express values that foster well-being.

1) Egalitarianism – why force feet, particularly children’s feet, into shoes that distort and damage them? Often, it is to show that that they are from nice, well-off families, are not ragamuffin street urchins. The more hierarchical the society, the more this matters – so in still-class-conscious UK cities, even children must wear shoes; in the more socially egalitarian Australian suburbs when I grew up there (1960s/70s), being starched and stuck-up was the stigma. The son of a family in our street that owned a big jewellers shop was seldom allowed out to run around with the rest of us: ‘poor Billy May’ our parents called him, kept cabined and confined in his clean white shirts with proper collars, properly shod. In a egalitarian society where physical conditions require shoes, all children would be shod – but I’m suggesting that children are happiest where both environment and relaxed social conditions allow all to run free and barefoot.

I was sparked to write this note while reading The Spirit Level , which sets out overwhelming evidence that more wealth in itself doesn’t make people better off – it is the fairness with which wealth is distributed through society that correlates with most measures of increased well-being, while societies with unequal distribution of wealth perform worse. Acceptability of barefootedness, it struck me, acts as a useful ‘finger in the wind’ for much of what they’re talking about.

2) Tolerance, not judging by appearances -- we didn’t just go barefoot, the basic kids’ dress-code was shorts and t-shirt, usually grubby, often pulled out of shape. But we weren’t on show – appearance wasn’t what well-being, or social standing, were judged on. Grown men, in their off-duty hours, had much the same dress code and were often equally grubby from car engines, barbeques, doing the garden or DIY. Kids’ clothes got handed on around the age-size chain. ‘Waste not, want not’ was a mantra for virtue – showing off, flashing money around, was actually despised. That applied to people we knew – newcomers might initially be judged somewhat more on appearances. So more transient communities, more geographical mobility, lends itself to greater dependence on neat clean and respectable appearance as a key to social acceptance, or at least to impressing the neighbours. Being relaxed about appearances, at least for kids running about, seems a sign of good social trust, one of the essentials of ‘social capital’.

So: we reasonably happy white kids from reasonably secure and prosperous families looked pretty much like the photos of shyly smiling black kids that I now see used to illustrate pitiable poverty – their barefootedness treated as a stigma, a sign of social failure. Sure: barefootedness is more visible than hunger or poverty – but playing about in grubby old clothes and bare feet can be a sign of a place where people are judged for themselves, not judged by what they wear.

3) Freedom, adventure, exploration -- going barefoot went along with being allowed to run wild: making secret dens and tunnels through the undergrowth on vacant blocks, going down to the river to fish for ‘blowies’ off massive sandstone blocks that could be castles or pirate ships, in ever-shifting campaigns of mock-wars and running battles: cowboys and indians, spies, pirates, rival guerrilla bands. These were all in the suburbs of Fremantle before I turned 12, with my brothers and the rest of the street tribe, and barely an adult in sight as far as we took notice. These all add up to safe relaxed circumstances in which to explore, play out stories, develop physical and social independence among age-peers – testing out boundaries of safe(ish) risks and strategies for coping with them, all vital aspects of healthy child development.

The circumstances that conduce to bare feet encourage more open, outdoor life – which allows neighbours to get to know each other, puts children out where many eyes can keep a look-out for them – how much was the shut-away British life-style responsible for the abuse of Victoria Climbie and Baby Peter and so many others being able to go on? Here, before traffic calming, I almost never saw local kids – or if I did, it was heart in mouth that they’d not get mowed down on the street. Post traffic calming, I see the street tribes out and about, and my worries are about how much I ought to inhibit the adventurous 10-year-old lads from setting up ramps for their skateboard and bike stunts in the street. Sure, the boys get in the way of the traffic – but to my mind, it’s the traffic interference with them that’s the problem. Sure, they could break their legs or necks coming off; they could run under a reckless rogue car – but so far, they’ve just been honing their skills and balance, developing their own risk judgements and capabilities. That’s what childhood should be about. It seems that other neighbours, and their parents, share this attitude – the kids need to be allowed to experiment with ’safe risks’ as part of growing up.

Research into the bleeding obvious, as required by the official mind, has shown that time spent outdoors correlates positively with physical activity levels and negatively with obesity. Indoors, what space is there to move, to vent the irrepressible physical energy of childhood, without bouncing off the walls, driving the family and neighbours up the wall? (I’m convinced this accounts for much childhood physical abuse – parents lashing out, simply driven mad by keeping young kids indoors where there’s no safe outdoor space near enough.) Or kids sit about, learn sedentary habits, these days often staring at screens that are windows into fast-evolving, fast-moving cyberworlds: courting early myopia, losing muscle, gaining fat. Outdoors, running about, skipping, throwing and kicking balls, all come naturally. Mental exploration is equally important: space to explore, to marvel at nature, climb trees, to build dens and dams and play about with mud and dirt, bits of wood. Richard Louv’s ‘Last Child in the Woods’ summarises why being out in the natural world matters for children; as does the Children’s Play Council’s ‘Play, Naturally’. [Add refs]

Barefootedness treats quality of childhood as a key test of how well a society or place meets human needs. There’s two dimensions to this. One is children themselves, as a focus of family lives, as the stage when human potential is developed or inhibited. The other is adult nostalgia for childhood, as a state of freedom to play and explore, an idealised haze of memories of moments of happiness, discovery and marvels – before the responsibilities, worries and practicalities of adulthood closed in on us. Places that afford the safety, playability, explorability that make a good childhood will also be good places for adults. Places where children must be locked away for their own protection, at the expense of life-long psychological and physical impoverishment of their potential, their social relationships, their understanding of the world we live in, will also be hostile, depressing, even pathologising places for adults. The statistics of increasing mental illness – depression, anxiety, stress, particularly among young people -- suggest that the urban, monetised world we’ve made ourselves is simply driving us mad. With increasing realisation that wealth-based indicators are poor guides to well-being, an indicator that focuses on some of the qualities that wealth seems to force out of life might be useful.

When I think about barefoot grubby children, I think of happy children – let’s not assume that the money that buys shoes can buy happiness and sunshine, nor confuse freedom with starvation and misery.

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

What is Beauty?

One type of the 'cultural ecosystem services' we get from nature is 'aesthetics'. So I watched the 'What is Beauty?' programme this Saturday past (14 Nov 09 on BBC2) to see how the approach taken by the chap presenting it, Matt Collings, might apply to nature and ecosystems. He set out 10 principles that, for him, define what people find beautiful, and his number one was -- Nature.

His 10 principles, in order, are: 1 Nature; 2 Simplicity; 3 Unity; 4 Transformation; 5 Surroundings (I'd call this context); 6 Animation (vitality, energy, dynamism); 7 Surprise; 8 pattern; 9 Selection; 10 Spontaneity.

Quotes I scribbled down as particularly telling:
"Hunger for beauty is part of what makes us human";
"Nature is good" -- or possibly "Nature is Good"
"Abstract patterns and the realistic world [nature] -- they bounce off each other and feed each other"
"Art offers nature in a pattern or structure"


The first two put aesthetics (and nature) into an ethical frame -- beauty and nature are both intrinsically good things, important aspects of what human life is for

The last two help with something I've found tricky in the 'auto-ethnographic fieldwork' I'm working through -- attending to catalogue and analyse how 'cultural ecosystem services' crop up in what I do in the course of modern urban life. How connected or disconnected are we from nature? Lots of explicit natural imagery -- floral patterns, landscapes, little artifacts. But can abstract, geometrical patterns that -- when you think of it that way -- are reminiscent of some aspect the natural world, be counted as referring to natural aesthetics? Colling says yes, they are.

His final comment was: these principles are his personal set, not the only possible set -- feel free to come up with your own.

Sunday, 4 October 2009

What we see -- what we don't...

Ran plant stall for Wards Corner campaign on Saturday: raised err... Well, there was £64.55 in the tin at the end of the day, but I put in £10 change as a float at the start, and some of it was from the campaign marquee selling mugs/t-shirts/canvas bags... So probably raised about £40 in all, from a day sitting in chilly wind, far too close to noisy polluting heavy traffic. Interesting to watch the people passing: most simply didn't register the plant stall, just not part of their worldview. It was a minority whose eyes were caught by plants: seeing the green, their eyes were caught, they had to just scan and check out what the plants were, even if they carried on walking -- even if not really interested, recognising plants was part of their world view. And an even smaller minority actually stopped to see what was on offer -- and most of those who stopped to check us out bought at least one plant, because they were plant-people and interested in local community.

However, I did manage to come home with just one small tray of selected plants-- a succulent, warmth loving Jamaican herb whose names include 'Spanish mint' and 'Guyanese thyme', and a clutch of verbascum/mullein/Aaron's rod seedlings to plant out around the allotment. After selling off all my previous plant stock about three weekends ago at Lordship Rec show, I'd re-built the stock up to half a dozen trays full of plants cluttering up our little back passage. Sociable dinner followed, celebrating the birthday of the campaign's events impresario at Caribbean Spice restaurant in West Green. Then home to watch a Monty Python evening on the teev -- or in JN's case, fall asleep in front of...

Wednesday, 30 September 2009

AGM with fox and sparrows

Our allotments association AGM this weekend was attended by a tree-climbing fox, about 40 sparrows, and a dozen or so of the twenty odd human plotholders. The last counts as a good turn-out -- allotments are for gardening, getting away from the pressures of paperwork, leavened by a spot of gently desultory chat or gossip with whoever else is around. However, for a bunch of people who really aren't into meetings, we managed to string it out --2-5pm, a whole three hours. No wonder the two squirrels who dashed through the meeting area didn't stop and join in. The fox is a half-grown cub, doesn't look healthy -- we think the rest of his family may have succumbed to the mange that has been going around, leaving him (or her) to fend for themself at an early age, and before teaching him to be wary of humans. He came trotting along, took a look at the meeting and disappeared into the tangled vegetation of the boundary hedge; there was rustling and his head poked out through a mass of white-flowering Russian vine at about top of fence level. A score or so sparrows flew up from the cherry tree next door. The fox's head popped back -- then popped out again through the bridal veil up near the top of the cherry tree, and another score of sparrows flew up and away.

The tricky discussions were around who is entitled to plots -- what counts as 'not in active use'; were there mitigating factors or had the leeway been used up? The issue gets complicated when the official tenants, with their names on the council agreement, have brought in 'sharers' who in effect take over -- but aren't on, or near the top of the waiting list. We have two plots that are being neglected: one is a single mum who lives over the fence and has been active in organising social events etc, but is doing hardly any actual gardening on her small (5 pole) plot. The other is a chap who was one of the original plot-holders when this stretch of the old Palace Gates railway was saved from being built on and opened up as allotments; he used to have one of the best-kept and most productive plots on the site -- but then his mother died, he became depressed, he has a condition that requires him to avoid direct sunlight, and for many years now he's left most of his plot run to weeds and cluttered with rubbish that is potentially dangerous to toddlers and small kids. He's refused to split or share his plot, but simply can't look after or use what is now one of just a couple of large (10 pole) plots on the site. Then there was the chap who, a year or so after finally getting to the top of the waiting list and getting his plot, went and got married, and moved off to south London to his wife's place -- hoping to get here to move back here to his. 'Get a sharer in to keep it in active use,' I advised him -- but it stayed untouched, until the Council came to inspect and sent him a 'Notice to Quit' (unless within 1 month he'd brought the plot back into active use). At that point, he got someone in to share, who duly dug and planted... That was the tricky one: a woman who herself had got her plot in almost exactly the same circumstances -- brought in by an absent tenant about to be kicked off -- was, ironically, the most vociferous that this should not be permitted. But this was the line in the sand: with a waiting list of 60 (just recently weeded down from 140) for about 20 plots, plots have to be handed on fairly to those who've signed up to the waiting list, in waiting list order, not on to friends and neighbours and people we know.

It can be seen as an exercise in how a community manages its boundaries, negotiating informal shared norms alongside the blunt instrument of official bureaucratic rules. The first factor is that the association chair, who liaises with the Council, feels the need to secure agreement from other plot-holders about whether plots are 'not in good order' and their holders are generally felt to have used up reasonable leeway. The second factor is the balance between personalised discussion -- that plot, that person -- and seeking to agree criteria or principles that should be generally applied to justify the judgement on individual cases. Are we saying that at least 50% of a plot should be cultivated to qualify as reasonable use? Yes, we may allowances for people who've taken on a new plot and may need time to bring it into use; we make allowances for people who let the association know they have been ill, have a bereavement, a change of job or other circumstance, or have a new baby. But how long a period of grace? Cases differ, no simple formula is fair to all -- so it will come back again to the peer group gossip circle or community consensus. That is, the community can agree to offer up mitigation arguing that someone should not be kicked off their plot -- but hasn't the power to get someone kicked off if their plot satisfies the inspecting Council officer.

Then there was the discussion of principles for bringing a sharer in: the official plot-holder must remain involved -- at least being seen visiting from time to time, all sharers must go on the official waiting list if they aren't already, and all sharers must be told that the plot cannot just pass on to them if the official tenant drops out but will have to be passed on to the top of the waiting list.

Sunday, 27 September 2009

10:10 challenge

Cut your personal carbon footprint by 10% in 2010 says the Guardian's 10:10 challenge. The trouble with being early adopters is that we've been doing all the obvious and easy green footprint-shrinking stuff for years. Should we have delayed, so we could claim the brownie points now its just become trendy?

It comes as a shock to see cabinet ministers pledging now to change their light bulbs to low-energy -- we've had the low energy bulbs longer than we can remember. Is this country really run by people so dozy that they haven't even managed that kindergarten-level step in environmental responsibility? At least the Tory front bench managed rather more ambitious pledges that suggest they've moved beyond the basics. Signing up last year with the London Green Concierge service to get the house insulation sorted out means we can't use that as our 10:10 pledge. We've never run a car so can't give that up. We grow-our-own fruit and veg in back garden and allotment, with surplus veg going into Tottenham Food Co-op (last Fri and Sat each month at Broadwater Farm) and spare plants supplying the Wards Corner Campaign fundraising plant stall at local events. On non-Food Co-op weekends, our regular shop is at the Stoke Newington organic farmers market (run by Growing Communities) and at the Fresh & Wild ethical supermarket across the road from it.

Four things we've identified to still further shrink our carbon-prints:

1) Replace old fridge-freezer with new A-rated fridge-freezer. Trying to find a replacement that gives us plenty of freezer space for storing seasonal gluts from the allotment (especially the luxury of our own raspberries, strawberries and blackberries with winter muesli) shows up just how uninformative is the internet info on fridge-freezer models available -- almost none actually show just what the internal storage space looks like. We spotted a Beko 11.2 cu ft model with five freezer drawers at Currys on our first casual recce -- which had vanished next trip, and neither it nor any other five-freezer drawers model has showed up on internet searches...

2) JN to stop falling asleep in front of computer, TV etc leaving lights and AV appliances blazing away all night long. This would also require cutting his booze-miles intake...

3) Switch to a 100% renewable energy supplier like Good Energy or Eco-tricity -- we are already on the 'green tariff' of our mainstream provider, but that's just a halfway measure.

4) Cut holiday travel: we've already switched to taking Eurostar to explore France, rather than signing up for trips that involve a flight. But in 2010, we will be committing air travel to Australia, combining catch up with my family and a world SF convention. We will of course offset against the emissions -- by donating to an international development organisation like Practical Action, Tree Aid or Water Aid that work directly with African communities on self-reliance that helps deal with the damage that climate instability is already inflicting. Committing air travel at all is a mortal sin, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...

Monday, 14 September 2009

Tottenham Show and 'Revive the Rec'

Broadwater Farm's high-rise blocks sit alongside Lordship Rec park. They're about 10-20 mins walk north of our house, depending whether you take the direct or scenic route. This Saturday was 'Revive the Rec' festival in the park, incorporating the 3rd Annual Tottenham Food and Produce Show. I started the day early registering entries for the Show, and when released, headed for the Save Wards Corner campaign's area -- setting out the bookstall, then helping run the plant stall. The sun shone, so good turn-out of people, kids, dogs...

The Festival was started up by the Friends of Lordship Rec group, working with 'Back to Earth', a small local environmental project/consultancy. They ran community consultation exercises and drew up a plan that includes an eco-centre building by the lake, a city farm in an area fenced off for (now largely unused) playing fields), restoring the 'model traffic area' where kids on bikes and trikes can practice the rules of the road, and de-culverting and landscaping the river Moselle which runs through the Rec and continues under the Estate's housing blocks before it re-emerges in Tottenham cemetery. The first Festival aimed to show the strength of local support for the bid to Revive the Rec -- and duly helped secure HLF funding for the project. Ahead of work on the Rec starting, once the funds are in the bank, Back to Earth and the Sustainable Haringey Food Group (or Growing in Haringey) started up a Community Cafe and Food Co-op that runs in Broadwater Farm Community Centre the last Friday and Saturday each month. The Cafe is run by Farm residents, and links to catering NVQ training and accreditation; the Food Co-op is run by SH volunteers.

How the spatial layout of stalls at these events fits (or doesn't) the 'social geography' networks always intrigues me. Because the Lordship Rec show is purely community based and run, the organisers had a pretty good idea about the intricate network of inter-connections, but the puzzle simply can't be solved in a 2-D layout. The 'jam and jerusalem' show marquee sits up the slope, flanked this year by the organisers fundraising gream teas and activities tent, and a long 'Green zone' marquee where Sustainable haringey and its Food Group set up. But Friends of the Earth/Haringey Tree Trust and Friends of Tottenham Marshes were on the other side of the path, outside the Green Zone, alongside the sprawling Wards Corner campaign -- bookstall, plant stall, campaign info (plus raffle, and camapign-logoed mugs, t-shirts, canvas bags), and tea-and cakies cafe -- with the local Eye Practice/Tottenham Traders Association alongside. The optometrist who is also chair of Tottenham traders occupies one of the buildings threatened with demolition by the Council's plans that the campaign opposes. However, the Ibero-American Association tent was a long way off -- the market traders in Wards Corner building itself are one of London's two main Latino trading and activity centres. Meanwhile, Tottenham Civic Society (which is part of Sustainable Haringey and of the Wards Corner campaign) was way off on its own at the gate through from the lake and model traffic area. And the Food Co-op and Community Cafe were running in the Community Centre the other side of the Moselle. JN and I belong to all of those except Tottenham Traders and the Ibero-American Assoc -- he's Civic Society secretary, Friends of the Earth treasurer. We both ended the day helping pack up the Wards Corner area, along with a ward councillor who (like most of the councillors who actually represent the locality) has come out publicly opposing the Council's demolition-based plans and supporting the community campaign.

Last year, I worked on the Show right through from registration through the judging and certificate writing process -- a highly complex set of routines. This time, there were fewer entries -- but more vegetables and jams; registration deadline was set slightly earlier and there were more volunteers. Nonetheless, judging this year still ran right up to 3.30pm -- half an hour past the scheduled time for local MP David Lammy to present prize certificates. Last year, I then wandered around all the stalls. This year, I just got a couple breaks to head for the Community Centre's proper toilets (always avoid the porta-loos if you can). So I didn't get to the Civic Society, or to the Green Zone marquee, or even to the FOE and FOTM tents along our own range of stalls. I bought olive oil and a couple of plants from the Justice for Palestine stall, where one of our neighbours (who I think of affectionately as 'Furry Philip' was working), waved at the Food Co-op folk whose stock was selling out rapidly. Apart from that, I saw those who dropped by our stall.

At the start of the spring/summer community events season, we had lots of plants to sell; at this tag end of the season, a very depleted stock. The main supplier is Sue P, who has what in these parts counts as a big garden, and whose latest project is running a 'Garden Swap' scheme in her road. I'm the other major plant supplier. We ended the day with just one tray of unsold plants. But yesterday I brought a dozen small Savoy cabbage plants home from the allotment to pot up, plus a flourishing calendula that had been growing among them. The Wards campaign is planning a community consultation day, with architects, on 3 October -- we may have re-built the stock to run another stall then.

Broadwater Farm became notorious in the 1980s - the useful Wikipedia entry says it was dubbed 'worst place to live' in England, and hit the headlines with the Broadwater Farm riot in 1985 (four years before we moved to Tottenham). Residents really resent the way that every time the place gets mentioned, the history of the riots and the bad reputation get dragged up again. After the riots, regeneration money was poured in, the above-ground walkway system was demolished, the buildings renovated and each block given its own entry-control system and concierge. Community organisations were formed, training and youth projects were funded, and the place turned itself around. In 2003, apparently, there was only one crime reported on the estate, a burglar who was arrested -- it now has one of the lowest urban crime rates. Until the Food Co-op started, we had no reason to go into the estate, and would have felt intruders just to go in and wander around. Having the Co-op and Cafe to visit regularly, we and others living around the area now have the estate as part of our home territory, a place we know and go to, not seen as a separated-off enclave or ghetto. The Festival similarly aimed to draw both Farm and other local residents into visiting and using the adjacent Rec -- both so that local people who used to fear and avoid the wide open, potentially wild, space could enjoy and benefit from it, and so by having more people of all ages using it, to walk kids and dogs, to play, to sit out on sunny days, the Rec itself would feel safer and be safer and so encourage more use and social benefit...

Friday, 4 September 2009

Broken Britain?

On all the statistical indicators, where I live is 'broken Britain': in the 5% worst 'areas of social deprivation', high in the crime league table -- a shooting at the top of our road where the 'working girls' hang out in highly impractical garb, multiple shootings and stabbings scattered along surrounding streets, where the police have raided crack houses, mugging and fly-tipping black spots. The sort of thing you tend not to mention when you phone home to Mum. But that's not what it feels like -- at least most of the time, these days. Our biggest current lament is never a weekend off from the round of community festivals in local parks, civic society walks and socials, Sustainable Haringey networking, residents association street party and 'Big Lunch', the local 'crafts and produce' village show... heaps of social capital, simply lashings of social energy. Being the most ethnically diverse local area in the UK feels like part of the vitality, not a problem -- but many, particularly newly-arriving refugees, live in dire poverty.

It wasn't always thus: the first decade or so that we lived in Tottenham, there seemed almost no 'community' to get involved in. The early post-96 years of Local Agenda 21 there seemed a very scant handful of overworked usual suspects who could be bothered, and getting any wider interest seemed a very uphill struggle. Two -- okay, three -- things I think have made the difference. The first to take effect was the rise of email and Web 2.0 -- which made it easy to send information whizzing around, and allowed people to get and keep involved when they couldn't turn up to the time or place of meetings. True, it has its downside in in-box overload (and I go through spells of being allergic to turning on The Enslaving Machine) -- but when you skim through, fast on the delete button, you catch up with all the gossip, plots, campaigns...

Second has been changes in the local council. Back in 1996, when the council talked about 'involving the community', you could almost see that they thought of it as one amorphous rather menacing black cloud that they really hadn't a clue how to tackle. And they didn't really talk about 'environment' except to dismiss it as a marginal concern of an unrepresentative bunch of middle-class weeds. Now, Haringey is aiming to be 'London's Greenest Borough'. Back in 1997, Thatcherism and Old Labour blinkers had between them broken the council -- the New Labour 'democratic renewal' emphasis on community involvement, together with loosening of budget constraints, have allowed it to rebuild its confidence. And, despite the problems that central Government targets and performance indicators bring, they have also meant that well-meaning rhetoric more often now gets put into practical action. Third has been the rising tide of alarming evidence and headlines about climate change.

Three community networks are making the biggest difference. First to come together was the Haringey Federation of Residents Associations, which focuses the scattered RA together as a fairly formidable local force. The residents associations are where the diverse ethnicities, ages, faiths and other interests tend to get together on what affects them where they live -- traffic, places for the kids to play safely and other local environment issues emerge as big concerns for all. What the middle-class greenies like and want, or dislike, turns out to be the pretty much the same as their neighbours' likes and hates: what everyone wants is to be able to open their front door and step out without feeling depressed by ugliness, or threatened -- and everyone enjoys a nice bit of greenery. Next was Sustainable Haringey, which evolved from the previous LA21 group but with far more vigour, using the Interweb to draw in a whole new generation and link up a diverse range of projects and groups: the 'food' group is one of the liveliest.

Third, is the Wards Corner Community Campaign (http://wardscorner.wikispaces.com/) which brought residents and local businesses together to fight the demolition and 'clone town' mall-and-tower-block so-called regeneration of the once-elegant Edwardian department store above the Seven Sisters tube station. The Council and local NDC have scandalously misused New Deal fo Community funds for a scheme that far from being 'community-led' is vigorously opposed by the affected community, and was pushed through with furtively token 'consultation'. The campaign is currently fund-raising to appeal against judicial review decision: more info and the alternative 'community plan' submitted for planning permission can be seen on the web-site above.

So: broken Britain? We're seeing green shoots just re-sprouting after the Thatcherite freeze. What would help here is a Keynsian 'Green New Deal' and practical recognition of non-monetary community ownership, community investment, community assets. A new monetarist clamp-down would break the fragile new grassroots renaissance that has started to grow..

Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Your money or your life?

Every now and then, I buy a bit more of my life back from the demands of werk. Trouble is, the more they pay me, the more expensive buying back my own time becomes. Still, I reckon it's worth it.

Why put your life on hold on the gamble that you'll live long enough to reach retirement, with your health and marbles intact enough to enjoy it and do all that werk leaves no time for -- and that the value of your pension, and the state of civilisation will both hold up so you get to collect what's due to you? Retirement as life deferred, in the same way that pension is salary deferred. Am I an optimist for gambling that I'll get by all right without maximising income and pension now -- or a pessimist who doesn't trust the future to make up for losing the present? A bit of both, of course.

Back when I was involved with New Economics Foundation, I was impressed by James Robertson's 'Future Work' and 'Future Wealth'. The former book particularly argued that a sustainable society must better recognise and balance the 'real economy' and real value of actual goods and services, and the massive amount of unpaid useful activity that sustains communities and the human spirit, against the 'money economy', since money is a very flawed measure of real value. Having bought the argument, I put my money where my mouth was, and 'bought' back a couple of days a week of my 'own time' -- getting a life, rather than just having a job.

I'm now on my third spell of part-time. First time up, in the 1980s, I was working for the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament when Gorbachev's glasnost and perestroika pulled the rug from under the Cold War; as fear that the world was about to be blown into radioactive smithereens subsided, so did the membership fees and donations that fuelled CND, So I offered to cut my working days, with the aim of Writing Immortal Prose on Fridays -- but usually just managed to catch up with household stuff, recover from feeling shattered by the four preceding days of werk -- recover bounce and energy on Saturday when JN, my other half just wanted to lie about recovering from being shattered. In the mid-1990s, I chucked a demanding berth in transport journalism with the idea of building up freelancing -- but JN, alarmed at becoming sole support for our brand new mortgage, demanded I look for at least a part-time proper job. This time I took Monday and Tuesday as my 'own days', so JN & I could loll about shattered together Saturday mornings, gently recover through the weekend, then I could carry on with the energy and purpose built up before re-entering the world of werk for a manageable three-day week. That is, I reckon, about the ideal work-life balance. I wanted to use my own time for writing stuff, for putting into practice some of the community, environment and sustainability prescriptions that, for werk, I advocated -- which ended up co-chairing Haringey Agenda 21 community side, chairing Permaculture Association Britain, and a spell as chair of New Economics Foundation. I realised that a lot of the ooh-pretty stuff I coveted I'd rather have the fun of making myself than buy from a shop. I wanted do gardening... I went back to full-time werk when the community involvement grew into voracious demands for all my 'own' time -- if other people were going expect me to do what they wanted, rather than what I enjoyed offering, then I might as well get paid for it.

Now, I have Mondays as my 'own day' -- and am inquiring about re-claiming another day for myself. This time round, I just aim to fit in a bit of life. In practice, that means swimming in the local pool to keep fit, pottering in garden and allotment, doing a bit of stuff around the house, and maybe heading out to shops or a bit of culture. Last year, we 'greened' the house -- blog on that to come. Community stuff creeps in, so far just around the edges. I resist turning on the computer with its engulfing tide of emails.

Money has its power over us only to the extent that we accept it in preference to other values. Those of us who have 'enough' money -- average (median/mode) income or above are in a position to exercise choice. We can of course maximise the money we rake in, then spend or save it to buy stuff we want. Or we can focus on stuff that money can't buy -- quality of life, quality time.

There's a story of a go-getting millionaire businessman who walks out along the (Mediterrean/Caribbean...) beach from his 5-star hotel, and trips over a local stretched out asleep beneath the palm trees on the sand. "Why aren't you out working?" snaps the irritated millionaire. "You people have no spirit of enterprise. If you just got off your ass and started fishing, you could sell the fish to this flash hotel. If you worked hard, you could buy a boat and catch more fish, and make enough money to run a fleet of boats."
"And what, senor, should I do then with all that money?"
"Why, you could sell your fleet and you'd have enough to retire to somewhere like here and live a life of leisure enjoying the beach and the sun..."
And the local yokel tipped his hat back over his face and went back to sleep in the sun...

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

Abundance

Our freezer is stuffed with runner beans, we've been giving them away to neighbours -- and begging the neighbours who share the fence they grow against to please, please pick all they can see and reach. But next door (a Congolese family) though they nod and smile when I tell them this are leaving lots of beans that have grown huge and tough. While the harvest lasts, its overwhelming -- but as soon as a few beans have been left to grow old and ripe, the plants will stop bearing.

Nature produces short gluts -- gardening is (among other things) the art of having lots of different gluts throughout the year in more or less manageable quantities. But high summer, now, is when all the gluts come at once.

At the weekend, I tried bottling applies from our two 'minarette' backyard trees (one is definitely Lord Lamborne, the other I think is Worcester Pearmain but it may be Ashmeads Kernel) in order to clear the whole shelf of our fridge they were occupying, plus the overflow on the benchtop attended by a cloud of little gnats . My second ever go at bottling -- not very successful, only one of the three jars formed a seal, and the fruit rose in all the jars. But I have become a pretty dab hand at jam-making: the first three years I tried it, I worked very conscientiously by the book -- achieving the chemical transformation to 'jelling' point, then transferring the super-heated solution to (hot sterilised) jars and sealing them to maintain sterile conditions is pretty serious technical stuff. I probably wouldn't have dared tackle it if I hadn't, as a kid, seen my mother making jams, so I knew it is something that can be done at home and had a very vague and basic idea of what was involved. It is, of course, something you tell the kids to stay clear of as basic health and safety precaution. Now, I just launch in -- measure up for 1 pound sugar to one pint fruit or strained juice, boil up the fruit, add the sugar and stir to dissolve. Wash out the jars while it's boiling up. Usually, that's as far as I get on Day 1. Next day: bring the fruit and sugar back up to a rolling boil, put the jars in the oven at 120F for a minimum of 10 minutes, after 15 minutes at rolling boil start checking the jam for 'jelling point' by dropping a spot of it onto a cold saucer -- once the surface wrinkles when you push at it, its set. Turn off the heat, and ladle into hot jars. I seal while its still hot -- waxed paper discs onto all the jars, then dampened cellophone covers. Leave to cool, then label and stash away -- we keep ours in a 'dead fridge' (which will get a separate blog entry) outside the back door.

Tomatoes just starting to ripen; mass of lettuces (Rossa di Trento) starting to go to seed down the allotment -- they've been such good growers that I'll let at least one of them ripen seed for re-sowing (and for opportunistic self-seeding).

Pressures of time: werk which advocates getting into the great outdoors, engaging with nature, physical activity and psychological relaxation/fascination creating health and well-being -- but what I do for werk is sit indoors at laptop, go to meetings, or sit in trains, stopping me from getting out there and actually doing the stuff we advocate. I can at least, werking at home, be distracted by watching the small birds at the back garden bird feeders.

Fingerprints and identity

The laptop issued me by Natural England for which I werk has a fingerprint recognition swiper. Theoretically, this saves the owner the bother of remembering passwords etc and also means only they have access to the machine. There have been ghoulish speculations that any baddie really wanting to break into the system/steal the machine would chop off the unlocking finger, in an unromantic update of the Tom Lehrer song.

My problem is that, as far as the machine recognition is concerned, I just don't seem to have any fingerprints. At least, none that it can recognise. Perhaps it's soft feminine skin; perhaps they've been worn away by gardening, or swimming.

But when it comes to bio-metrics for ID cards, passports, credit etc -- am I a non-person? And how many other women, blokes, children also have finger whorls too faint and soft, or worn and cracked, to be reliably readable as identity markers?

Sunday, 9 August 2009

Why this blog

1) Reflections on balancing the demands of an 'environmental' job with living a sustainable green life -- including community action, as well as home, garden, allotment
2) Reflections on the practice and theory of permaculture, as a system for thinking through (design) sustainability -- as a balance of earthcare, peoplecare and fair shares
And no doubt, other stuff about life as she is lived.