Hard to believe, but I am watering my garden while floods… well, FLOOD parts of my own damn state.


Here’s what’s happening outside this morning:








Cody and I picked these yesterday:


I am going in late today. It feels good to just be home in the morning.

11. The Replacements, Hootenanny (1983) 12. The Replacements, Let It Be (1984) During our years at Chaska High School in Chaska, MN, my friend Lisa F had THE BIGGEST crush on Tommy Stinson, bass player for the Replacements. He seemed accessible (unlike, say, John Taylor of Duran Duran) for a couple of reasons: a) he was born in 1966, so he was close to our age and b) he was reasonably local. I’d look for him at Shinders whenever I snuck into town, but I never saw him, not once. His brother, Bob, was another story entirely. But oh! What a privilege to have BOTH these records serve alongside Duran Duran, Journey, Foreigner, and Prince as the soundtrack to my teenage years! How awesome that the Replacements (and Husker Du, and Prince, and the Suburbs) were my local music scene in high school (thus providing an entree into the local music scene whilst in college, which included Soul Asylum, the Jayhawks, Run Westy Run, etc)! How well both these records have aged - they’re seriously timeless. Timeless! They were the best band - badly behaved some (much?) of the time, unpretentious, brilliant, troubled, troubling; you’d be so disappointed in their behavior or the occasional bad live show.. but the first to vigorously defend them to a detractor. So. The Replacements’ catalog is being remastered and reissued with bonus tracks/outtakes this year by Rhino. The first half of the catalog (through Let It Be) was reissued this week; the latter half (starting with that old heartbreaker, Tim) will be released later this summer. I’m rebuilding my collection. ####################### Now Cody has whatever Lilly had, with slightly different presentation. He’s out of school today. Jim has it too, but it attacked just his voice instead, leaving him to squeak over the phone at work. I have a touch of it too, also in my throat, but I just sound like I used to sound all the time back when I smoked (I quit almost 4 years ago, and still think about having a cigarette every day). Lilly has recovered, but the cough sounds terrible, just like the doctor said it would. ####################### There’s a guy at the Wall Street Journal - not some doom-and-gloomer survivalist website straight outta 1999, but the Wall! Street! Journal! - advising people to, yes, stockpile food: Stocking up on food may not replace your long-term investments, but it may make a sensible home for some of your shorter-term cash. Do the math. If you keep your standby cash in a money-market fund you’ll be lucky to get a 2.5% interest rate. Even the best one-year certificate of deposit you can find is only going to pay you about 4.1%, according to Bankrate.com. And those yields are before tax. Meanwhile the most recent government data shows food inflation for the average American household is now running at 4.5% a year. And some prices are rising even more quickly. The latest data show cereal prices rising by more than 8% a year. Both flour and rice are up more than 13%. Milk, cheese, bananas and even peanut butter: They’re all up by more than 10%. Eggs have rocketed up 30% in a year. Ground beef prices are up 4.8% and chicken by 5.4%. These are trends that have been in place for some time. And if you are hoping they will pass, here’s the bad news: They may actually accelerate. Amazing stuff. I’m hoping for high yields in the garden… and stocking up on lids and rings for canning jars. It makes you wonder (well, it makes me wonder) if this really is the beginning of the Long Emergency…

Our farmers’ market was in the local paper yesterday, which was great, but even better, to me, is that my kid was in the University of Illinois student paper today talking about his opposition to the war, which has been in full effect since the day it started.

Curve, Doppelganger (1992) 4. I skipped out on my tickets to see Curve in 1992. I was a new mother, feeling fragile and identifying too much with this record (which had come out during my pregnancy) during a time when I had one foot firmly planted in my Old Life and the other poised over the New. I couldn’t watch - hearing was plenty sensory; I would just close my eyes and respire distorted guitars. Bands like Garbage owe much to Garcia/Halliday, who outgrew shoegazing and into more confrontational, compelling, sexydark territory. ################################## Today I was once again reminded how lucky I was to have the time at home with my kids that I did - time free from working outside the house, time away from school for them. We were completely, horribly broke and things were intense sometimes, but that time together helped them grow into who they are - these thinky, lovely human beings. Cody’s really concerned about his school - the food they eat at school, how kids are disciplined, No Child Left Behind, testing - all of it. He’s exploring these issues within the confines of his school paper, where he reports investigatively despite the clamor for more prom and photo pages. Lilly writes and writes and writes and writes and writes and writes and writes and writes and plays soccer and Pokemon cards and is an awesome friend. Late this afternoon I had a conversation with Cody that made me realize he’s growing past me, that he knows way more about some very important things than I do, that his opinions are strong but that the world is still getting teenagers like him down by helping convince them that they’re powerless. He’s fighting that ennui - I hope he can hold out. That he still comes to me and engages me in conversation and listens when I talk is beautiful to me, but I have to admit I’m a sucker for the post-talk hug. Now playing: The very awesome Silversun Pickups, “Lazy Eye” - fourth track here

I mean, I think it’s cool. This l’il blog of mine was namechecked at 52 Projects. I’m a big fan, so I’m excited. Thanks, 52 Projects! Speaking of projects, I don’t really have one at the moment. I have an idea for a photo project that might involve collaboration with my son at some point during February, and there are plenty of things I need to get managed to a manageable state before I start my job at the end of February, but I’m not really WORKING on anything. OK, I’m working on a little something for Meghan the Glassblower and her awesome husband, and that has definitely been a project. But I’m waiting for my imagination to fully catch fire, to get engrossed in an idea, to get carried away. I can feel it coming on, because I have this new big project (work) to look forward to, but at the moment it’s kind of like when you open the new bottle of ketchup and hold it upside down and nothing comes out. You know? ***** What I’m watching: Upp Till Kamp (which means “How soon is now?” in Swedish? I think?) - a miniseries about life in a rock band in Goteborg, Sweden during the late 60s/early 70s. Totally great. When the Cue Club shuts down and there’s a riot, you’re just like, yeah! The kids are alright! You need a PAL player to be able to watch it, and I can’t knit while reading subtitles, but it really is good, plus the music is done by our friend Mattias Barjed (of Soundtrack Of Our Lives) He’s also in the miniseries, playing a crabby guitar player named Anders. I’m reading stuff, too, but that’s another entry. Maybe I’ll make new categories on the right hand side over there…

It’s been an excellent couple of weeks. I know, I was really vague when I was writing before and stressed out and all that, but the skies have definitely brightened (despite our sucky weather) and I can report the good news. I’m very excited about my new job (yes! I can keep a secret!), because one of my many tasks will be to run and develop my city’s very large, very popular farmers market (officially monikered Market at the Square - see photo in previous entry). The position opened late last summer and I went through the application/interview process in December/January. People who’ve known me for a long time know how I feel about the Market and food as a community-builder; I’ve also written about it here. To say that I’m looking forward to this job would be a HUGE UNDERSTATEMENT. I’m coming over, City Hall. Of course, this mean that I’ll be leaving the Foodbank in a couple of weeks. I feel quite strongly about the work the Foodbank has done, is doing, and will continue to do; I’ve worked with really great people who know how to get it done… and we have gotten it done under some crazy circumstances. They’ve been an inspiration, and I’ll miss them. So. There it is. The cat’s out of the bag, the beans have been spilled, etc. I’ll have more to say about local food and local markets and suchlike, but do me a favor - if you haven’t already gotten this information to me from past queries, talk to me about your farmers market, if you have one. Is it big? Is it independent or is it run by a municipality? Does it have a website? Does it have its own facility? Outdoor or indoor? Year-round or seasonal? What do you love about it? What could your local market be doing better? Are you a lurker here? SPEAK UP! The comments are right down there! ****** Last night Cody and I headed over to campus to hear writer/philosopher Derrick Jensen speak. I’ve been reading his work for about 6 years - Janna turned me on to his work - and never thought anyone would bring him to campus. Well, I was wrong. And thank goodness, because his talk was excellent and lasted for 4 hours if you included the v interesting Q & A. What’s Derrick Jensen’s thing, you ask? His schtick? His modus operandi? A good start would be to check out these premises of his two-volume opus, Endgame. Here are a few of my favorites, taken directly from the website linked above: Premise One: Civilization is not and can never be sustainable. This is especially true for industrial civilization. Premise Four: Civilization is based on a clearly defined and widely accepted yet often unarticulated hierarchy. Violence done by those higher on the hierarchy to those lower is nearly always invisible, that is, unnoticed. When it is noticed, it is fully rationalized. Violence done by those lower on the hierarchy to those higher is unthinkable, and when it does occur is regarded with shock, horror, and the fetishization of the victims. Premise Five: The property of those higher on the hierarchy is more valuable than the lives of those below. It is acceptable for those above to increase the amount of property they control—in everyday language, to make money—by destroying or taking the lives of those below. This is called production. If those below damage the property of those above, those above may kill or otherwise destroy the lives of those below. This is called justice. Premise Seventeen: It is a mistake (or more likely, denial) to base our decisions on whether actions arising from these will or won’t frighten fence-sitters, or the mass of Americans. Premise Twenty: Within this culture, economics—not community well-being, not morals, not ethics, not justice, not life itself—drives social decisions. Pretty heavy stuff! But it’s what he says about hope that really resonates with me: False hopes bind us to bad situations and keep us from exploring possibilities… hope is a longing for a condition over which we have no agency. I know many folks disagree with this notion, and that’s OK. I find his work incredibly positive and energizing and… freeing. At any rate, we had an excellent time at the talk and I turned into a bit of a fangirl at the end, as you can see. You can read, if you like, more about what Jensen has to say about hope here, and you can read another great interview with him here. So - yeah! It’s been exciting. But I still haven’t done my seed inventory.

Cody has a Flickr Pro account now. If you’d like to see his work, go here. I think he’s got some really stunning stuff. He took the image above a few days ago in Chicago.



I was telling J the Yogini tonight that January is shaping up to be full of situations. There’s something I feel badly about, there’s my heavy work load at the office, there are some big ups and downs and potential changes is on the horizon. Say what you will about the New Year bringing change and how great that is - I agree, I do - but all at once? It seems like this happens every year in January, this bunching up of situations, but every year I’m surprised by it anew.



This is how I survive Januaries, or at least this one: I just put my shoulder to the wheel, get to the gym every morning, get as much done at work, and be as present at home as I possibly can. January is for getting through.

Oh, 2008, why’d you have to come in so chilly-like? It was one solitary degree when I got up this morning to exercise. One. Degree. The car complained about being started and my feet complained about being outside at all in such weather, but we made it. It’s 5 degrees as I type.



I always thought it was fully corny, the way grownups went on and on about how time flies by (when I was a kid, Christmas seemed to take forever to arrive; summers boringly stretched on forever and ever and ever), but now I find myself quite humbled by how fast it all goes. I’ll be 40 this year; my baby will be 10. It’s been twenty years since I first cast my vote for a President, 16 years since I was pregnant with my firstborn, and three years since we bought our first house.



Damn!



It’s back to business, after a fashion, today - I’ll be doing some work from home this morning, running errands with Lilly in the early afternoon, nursing Jim back to health after a dental procedure later this afternoon, and getting a closer look at those seed catalogs after a thankfully simple dinner (you don’t want to know how much we ate during all the football yesterday). It’s time to start planning what kind of garden we need to grow this year - more flowers and medicinal herbs? Can I really manage a huge food load or should I scale back a little bit (I get all gung ho about it now, but I know myself too well to really believe that January’s boundless enthusiasm will carry over into August)? What about the fruit trees and the berry patches I keep insinuating I’ll be creating? There’s a gulf between what I think I want to do and what I know is feasible. Hm. I’m all about Dreaming Big and Thinking Positively and all, but in keeping with my desire to not give myself any ammo, I may drop a few things off the list, but food of some permanence (fruit trees/plants) is not one of them.



Tomorrow it’s back to work, and Cody comes home from Chicago. I’ve missed him, as I always do, but I’ll be especially glad to get him back. He warms the place up quite a bit.

November 2, 1998 was the day a page was turned, a light was switched on, a door was opened. We brought our new daughter/sister home and began a brand-new family life, and while it was very, very good, it was also damned difficult at first. We had to adjust to being four instead of three, and I know Cody, who was six when Lilly was born, had a rough few months of it before the edges smoothed enough to allow for some big brotherhood to creep in. He remained in school for the rest of that school year and all of the next, but came home after second grade…… and another page was turned, a light switched on, a door opened. The five years that followed were, frankly, some of the best years of my life so far. [Way more fun than hanging out with rock bands, that’s for damn sure. Seriously.] When Cody left school, that’s when the real education of my adulthood began. I see those five years as the core formative period for our family - constant activity (though it wasn’t always about learning), constant togetherness (though it wasn’t always fun), constant struggles to make ends meet (don’t ask me how we managed, because I have no idea. Well, I do). The kids had freedom to learn what they wanted to learn, and so did I. I have no doubt in my mind - none - that if Cody had stayed in school, I would never have pursued gardening, food, or cooking to the degree I did (and do). I would never have found the work I’m doing now - food system work - I know I’ll be doing, in some fashion, until I’m not working anymore and even then… I’ll be doing it. Homeschooling the kids for five years enabled me to learn how to learn again. It also gave me a chance to parent kids in a way I’d never imagined I’d be wiling to try. These two kids, who would never have attended the same school (and now that they’re in school, never will), grew up together respecting each other (for the most part) and being each other’s friend and partner in crime. They had easy access to an adult they were close to for a hug, some conversation, a game, whatever. Our family became closer-knit - we were one tight unit back then - but more welcoming, too, of friends and relatives and guests. Not having so many work/school demands was, in a word, awesome - that kind of freedom is unheard of in this culture, and I spent a lot of time explaining ourselves to people who were suspicious of all that “hanging out”. A lot changed when Cody went back to school in 2005, and more changed when I went back to work full-time in 2006. It’s complicated (what about families isn’t?), but it was time to do something different. The kids needed it, Jim and I needed it, and the family as a unit needed it. The whole career thing for me was terrifying professionally - what if they find out what an utter fraud I am? What was I thinking, re-entering the work force after 8 years? - and personally. What if putting them back in school was the wrong decision? I fretted. What if they’re bored or get in trouble? What if they secretly hate us for what we’ve done? What if they don’t value the time they had at home? What if family is no longer important to either of them? Or to us? I still fret about all that, even though they’re both very well-rounded kids who are solid parts of their school and outside communities. And intimidatingly bright and committed. What is my problem? I mean, life isn’t perfect by any means, but perfection would only serve to make me more anxious anyway. On the way home from Michigan this past Sunday, I stole glances at the kids while they did their thing in the back of the car, knowing that we’re on the back end of family vacations including all four of us. It hurt, which made me sit up and assess this new situation - that of the children are not babies, toddlers, or young children anymore, and holy freaking bats, I have a nearly-grown man as offspring. Tonight, we’re putting Cody on the Amtrak to be with his dad for Thanksgiving, and he’ll probably be gone for 9 days directly after Xmess. We’ll miss him, but we’ve been heading in this direction for awhile. He was gone most of this past summer, and plans to be gone all of next. He’ll be 16 in July, but he let me peck him on the cheek when I dropped him off at the high school in this morning’s pouring rain. That’s when I knew it was OK. Sometimes, I worry about Lilly’s feelings about the shifts in the family dynamic. It occurred to me that maybe she doesn’t really notice, or if she does, she doesn’t care. Maybe she wouldn’t show us if she does care, I’ve thought. But then I read this last night, excerpted from her current story:

Gwen took a deep breath. “You don’t know where your parents live?” Mysta turned to her. “I don’t know yet, but I can find them. If I wanted to see them, my longing would be so great that I would if it was the last thing I ever managed to do. If I really wanted to see them, nothing would dare to stand in my way. I would hunt them, stalk them, track them down if it cost me my last breath; hunt them not like prey, but out of love and devotion for my family.” Gwen was knocked silent by these words, although Mysta continued her lecture. “If I wish to do something I can do it. I would battle Tai, slash the Dark Riders to bits if I had to –” here Gwen shuddered at the gory visualization, “– and even battle the Lord Maskmei, high in his palace at the peak of Ghuandumar. I could do it. If it is out of love for my family and devotion for my friends, I would battle till my last breath to see or do what I really wanted to.”

Lisa B-K and her kids, Florida, 2007


I’m thankful for the political conversations. The phone calls reassuring us when he’s late. The love notes. The unloaded dishdrainer. I’m thankful for “Mom, have you ever heard of the Pixies?” and “I wrote Oma a thank-you note, and could you put a stamp on it?”. Gratitude abounds for games of Scrabble and Set, for LOtR movie night, for father/daughter basketball games and mother/son protests. I’m not going to hold on too tightly, because that makes them struggle to get loose. I know this. I’m just going to find deep peace in this period of time and enjoy my people. May you do the same.

Photo by his friend S.