FoodShed Planet

Introducing the "Wine and Dine" Bottle Garden: Recycled Wine Bottles with Dinner Herbs (and a Side of Art) UPDATED TWICE

2012-01-22T06:57:00.012-05:00

So I see these Grow Bottles (where the top of a cut wine bottle is inverted to create a hydroponic growing system) for 35 bucks and, remembering I had a bottle cutter when I was a teen, I wonder if I can make something like this. I look online (where cutting a bottle in this way is something many people have done) and find a bottle cutter (just $25, and eco, to boot!), and then hint to the family that that would make a nice holiday gift. After receiving it, I ask a few friends to save wine bottles for me. One owns a restaurant. Another runs with a wine-tasting crowd. The bottles start coming in cases.

So this idea starts growing, that maybe we could figure out how to make something like this (I purposely don't read exactly how Grow Bottle does it so that our system is not a copy of it), sell them, and raise money for micro-grants for food pantry clients to start their own gardens at home (about which friends of mine and I have been talking since our community garden opened two years ago--we already started a separate garden specifically for them so they can harvest every single week when they come to pick up food at a local church food pantry), or to fund that beautiful little garden that miraculously provides fresh food to about 20 families each week, even when it looks like it's been picked to death. Somehow it always provides. Here is a photo from this week, in January, for goodness sake.

So I spend a solid month trying to create a prototype, with many emails back and forth to my friends Bob and Angela, who both have bottle cutters now, too, and to Nicole, who is as insatiably curious as I am and is a terrific researcher. I burn myself. I cut myself. I break many, many bottles, with a zero success rate of a clean cut. I keep at it, goggles on, teeth clenched. I view online videos. I switch methods. I get better at applying just the right pressure during the scoring process. I pour boiling water slowly, slowly, slowly, and start to know when it's time to stop (if I pour too long or too fast, stress fractures appear). I even pray a little. And finally, finally, it works. I scream and run around the house pronouncing this. And then more of them (but not all of them) work. I'm only at a 33% success rate, but I'm heading in the right direction.

I see hydroponic systems use little clay balls, which cost something like $50 for a bag. I don't have $50 for hydroponic clay balls. I live in Georgia. I have red clay outside my door. I make clay balls.

I ask the local grocery store manager where I can find food-safe string, and he gives me 50 feet of thick butcher string for free. I rig a wicking system, anchored by a clay ball in each bottle (I'm up to seven bottles now).

After painting flowers on the front of the bottles, I realize they'd be way cooler if really good artists, professional artists, painted them instead, and I start thinking about who to ask right about when an artist friend of mine, Nancy, volunteers, and the church's food pantry leaders, Kathy and Mary Louise, tell me they have a big artist community and an upcoming art retreat at which they'll try to recruit more artists. I get another idea, a big idea, but I don't act on it . . . yet.

I plant herbs that I uproot from my home garden (lemon balm, cilantro, peppermint, and spearmint are all growing right now, with oregano just a week or two away) and tuck them in with county compost.

I fill the "bottle reservoir" with water and some organic liquid fertilizer to provide nutrients to the plant via the wicking system (or at least that's the theory).

I recruit people (Bob, Angela, Nicole, Mary Louise, Kathy, Page, Rebecca) to be "foster parents" to these prototypes and start to deliver them, with the simple instructions to see if growth appears healthy, if the water seems like it needs weekly changing, and if anything "funky" starts to grow anywhere in the system. In the meantime, a team of six people in less than 12 hours have volunteered to "de-label" cases of bottles (and I get in trouble for using the community garden Google group to ask for volunteers since this is not a "board-approved" project--ouch. Lesson learned while pouring boiling water--know when to stop). I quickly relocate the project "home" to the church where the food pantry garden exists, and instead of having the bottles delivered to the community garden, I arrange for them to be left there to be picked up.

And now I wait. I wait for clean bottles. I wait for results of the foster parent/prototype test. I wait for oregano. And I wait to see, as always, what else is possible?

UPDATE: The first de-labeled bottles arrive and I can cut a deeper "grow space" as a result, which seems to be an improvement (see comparison in photo between 1.0 cut and 2.0 cut). Plus, I start cutting bottles with stress fractures below the fracture (hence, recycling the recycled bottle) to create vases, which we'll fill with fresh cut herbs for sale as well.

I have created a separate site specifically for this project as I think it's going to have a life of its own.

My dream? People all over the world do this as well to raise money for vegetable gardens at food pantries in their communities and micro-grants for food pantry clients to start their own gardens at their homes.

UPDATE 1/25/12: The first prototype results are back and they reveal some, shall we say, flaws in the system. See details (and next steps) here.

Metamorphoses (Arts, Urban Spaces, Lives) UPDATED

2012-01-15T06:46:00.024-05:00

I sat there transfixed, beside a 4,000-gallon pool on a stage at the school where my older daughter attends. She appeared as several characters in this high school's performing arts magnet's production of the Tony Award-winning play, Metamorphoses, which is a contemporary retelling of eight classic Greek myths. As "Hunger," she transformed so completely that it was frightening (and sort of ironic considering I just published a book titled Food for My Daughters). She and her fellow cast members (such as those pictured, which is from the program's cover) embodied a total of more than 100 characters, many of whom dissolved seemingly-magically in the pool, which acted as its own character in truly shocking ways throughout the production. In two-hours time, an endless number of "metamorphoses" occurred, including mine.

Hunger. Hunger. I keep thinking of Hunger. Insatiable hunger was a curse placed on a character, which ultimately led to his tragic demise. And yes, hunger engulfs thousands of us close to home and around the world every single day.

Yet . . . .

This week alone I saw three examples of what is possible:

1. Repurposed shipping containers that are capable of growing more than an acre and a half of lettuces in 48' x 8' at a business named PodPonics.

2. A year-old inner-city urban farm that is feeding stomachs, minds, hearts, and souls.

Upper left: Uri; Bottom left: Fred

David Skoke, Don Converse, Bob Lundsten, Robert Wittenstein

3. And an unloved, unused piece of land for which I've been, yes, hungry, for over two solid years now that, unbeknownst to me, was a mere hour away from being ready (thanks to a great team of guys who helped me) for cultivation by the middle school class that will now resume coming to the community garden after completing their previous project (which doubled the size of the food pantry donation effort) (see The Exciting Return of Open Garden). The row (two 40' rows end-to-end, actually), coincidentally, is the exact same square footage as the growing space in one recycled shipping container (we had marked it off several weeks ago, before I visited PodPonics).

As I sat in one of the 170 seats around the pool right on the stage, I heard the narrator say these words, as my daughter appeared, her hair covering her face wildly, her costume ragged, her body contorted:

There is a place in far-off Scythia. Nothing grows there, no wheat, no grass, no trees. There you will find, huddling together, Cold, Fear, and Gaunt Hunger.

Driving home, my mind swirling, I though of the food we have coaxed from the land over which we've served as stewards: our home garden, our community garden plots, the food pantry garden at the church, the school gardens.

I thought of the gritty piece of parking lot where affordable, pesticide-free local lettuce for chefs and retail sale now grow (with an expansion to eight condemned acres under way, right under the flight paths of planes leaving the world's busiest airport).

I thought of the site of an old housing complex, now serving as home to four acres of food right in the shadow of the King Center for Nonviolent Change (this photo shows the contrast between now and almost exactly a year ago), where every time I go a new expansion patch is being planted.

Photo from 9/09. I have taken at least 100 similar photos

And I thought of a "back row" that was there, always, waiting for us, just waiting, patiently.

And I wondered, yet again, what else is possible. How else can we satiate the hunger of humanity? How else can we change--how else can we morph--for the better?

UPDATED: 1/20/12: Here is a segment filmed by the local NBC affiliate about the play (complete with pool).

Steve Jobs, Nancy Shevitz, Sara Snow, and an "Eat Pray Love" Hope Chest

2012-01-08T06:32:00.019-05:00

The stark beauty of the apple trees of winter took my breath away, and as my family went inside the Mercier Orchards retail shop in Blue Ridge, Georgia, I traipsed out into the orchard to see the trees up close. Gnarly and crooked, they try to stretch straight upward but can't, their need to twist and bend overpowering them, their intrinsic traits dictating their destiny.

And so, perhaps, it goes with all of us. A man with no care for what others think and only a burning desire for design perfection changes the world (and is the subject of a book I literally cannot put down, yes, while nibbling the apples from Blue Ridge).

A woman (my friend, Nancy, who is David's sister) with a life-threatening disease laughs in the face of it and prevails, her infectious spirit intact, her eyes filled with the joyful embrace of each moment's power, and digs into dirt pulsating with life to plant for others at our food pantry garden. (And, by the way, Nancy is about 100 pages ahead of me in the Steve Jobs book and loving it as well.)

And arguably the world-expert in green living, Sara Snow, the daughter of Pattie and Tim Redmond (founder of what is now Eden Foods and several other major natural foods companies), exudes her generous and charismatic personality when she open-heartedly recommends my book in this video on her website.

This act of complete kindness, so true to Sara's nature, overwhelms me as Sara has been a role model to me for years for two reasons: (1) personally, she provides a strong example for me to show my daughters the health, beauty, poise, knowledge, and confidence that could result from growing up immersed in a healthy, natural lifestyle (as she was), and (2) professionally, she is an experiential journalist who likes to get hands-on in her subject matters, as I do. Here is what I wrote about Sara in 2007, and more recently.

When I first fell upon her show on The Discovery Network, traveling around the world to cover stories was still far away in my life. Now, Sara is staying home for awhile with her baby, and I am getting closer to that day when my innate trait of insatiable curiosity overcomes me and I head out beyond my current two-hour radius, pen and notebook and camera in hand (or perhaps an Apple product, of which I currently own none).

In fact, my daughters gave me the gift of a gorgeous cardboard suitcase recently that, my older daughter told me, is like the hope chest in Eat Pray Love that the writer filled with National Geographics instead of linens. I have already started filling it with research for stories I'd like to cover or ones I wish I wrote (like this excellent story about the first olive orchard in hundreds of years in Georgia, running in the current issue of Atlanta magazine). I have already started filling it with gnarly and crooked dreams, and passionate design details, and the joyful embrace of each moment's power, and the intention of generosity and kindness. I've started filling it with Steve and Nancy and Sara, and my daughters, and my friend Betty, the new Global Blogging Ambassador for Heifer International, who is a few years ahead of me on this journey (and with whom I shimmied under a fence yesterday--don't ask).

It isn't time yet, except for an occasional dip into elsewhere, such as my Sweet Grass Dairy article and my trip to the Battery Park Urban Farm and the High Line in New York. But seasons change. And, one day, once again, the need to go will be greater than the need to stay, for all of us. And we then stand there faced with the stark beauty of our dreams, and we hear the calling of our destiny. And we choose, in that moment, whether or not to bend and twist. Whether or not to seek perfection in the moment. Whether or not to laugh and embrace and share. Whether or not to open the box, or to leave it under the bed. Whether or not to fully live the next stage in the life we are meant to live.

Yes. Onward. (To Tell the Business Stories about Sustainability. To Do Something that Endures, Like Ed. To Cause a Ripple, Like Betty.) UPDATED 1/3/12

2012-01-01T07:06:00.018-05:00

In the early freshness of the first few hours of a brand new year, I realize there is no blank slate of January this year:

* Every patch of dirt pulses with something growing in it, the winter abnormally mild here in metro Atlanta so far.

* My year-old blog, Hot Off the Vine with Pattie Baker (for Cox Enterprise's Kudzu), which highlighted home trends and tips while encouraging support of local service companies, fell victim to a tough economy (see A Look Back, Leaning Green, and Goodbye), but the creation of a Vision Board for my life and career (a fun exercise, if you haven't done this yet) has snapped my next steps into focus--a total concentration on telling business-related sustainability stories, starting with the relaunch of Sustainable Pattie on Tuesdays.

* Even the total destruction of my friend Ed's front-yard garden (which absolutely broke my heart to hear about, even though, fair is fair, Ed did sell the property--read the story here) a mile or two from the White House holds hope and promise. The developer (Scott Zimmerman) has agreed to consult with Ed in adding organic garden beds as an amenity for the new condo owners (even though he has already destroyed all Ed's valuable topsoil).

* And my very dear friend Betty Londergan, who two years ago today started a truly awe-inspiring blog where she gave away $100 a day and wrote about it (see this article about Betty in Whole Living magazine, including this beautiful photo), has a huge announcement coming any minute now (as in, today) that will change her life and the world. And, in one small way to be announced at a future date, her actions will change mine.

Maybe there never really was a blank slate of January. Maybe we never really start anew but rather just enjoy a brief moment where we step back and say, "Yes, onward." And so, right now, today, as the sun rises yet again (as in this picture from a log cabin in the Blue Ridge mountains where I just was, yet again, with my husband and daughters, our arms full of passion projects), as we each attempt to bear witness, to make a mark that perhaps endures (like Ed's garden), or to cause a ripple in the big, fat, global pond (like Betty is about to do), I open the door to a new dawn's sun and I say those simple words in confirmation. Yes. Onward.

UPDATED: Betty is spending 2012 as a Global Blogging Ambassador for Heifer International. Here is what she is doing, and where she is going. And, um, yeah, I'm thinking of joining her on one or two legs.

Inch by Inch, Row by Row, and Other Simple Truths

2011-12-18T06:46:00.026-05:00

I hooked up the hose and turned it on as my friend David dragged it to water the raised garden beds at the food pantry after families in need finished harvesting. As I walked around the corner to help him, I saw that a food pantry client had walked over and was holding the hose behind David. As David worked his way around the garden, the man followed him holding the hose. They didn't speak until the end, when David thanked him, in both English and Spanish, and the man nodded and returned to his place in line with the others waiting for the food pantry doors to open.

I sat on a stone wall with my friend James, and watched this simple, silent, beautiful dance of humanity. And I was humbled to think of the very many simple actions people who had not all that long ago been strangers had taken with me in just these past couple of months to add rows to our gardens. Rows. For some reason, rows. All I can think about are rows--the one at my home garden that I added as my 2012 Plant a Row. The one right here at the food pantry. The one at the new urban farm incubator in my friend's backyard. And the one I just marked out with my friends Robert, Laura, and Jim in the back field at the community garden so both the city and the garden board can visualize it for potential approval, so that the middle school kids have a "row to grow."

And lyrics from this song (which is one of my favorites of all time) rushed through my head:

Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground

Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
Till the rain comes tumbling down

Pulling weeds and picking stones
Man is made of dreams and bones
Feel the need to grow my own
Cause the time is close at hand

Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature's chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music from the land

Plant your rows straight and long
Temper them with prayer and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care

Old crow watching hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden it's as free
As that feathered thief up there

I've been singing that song all week, and, although it is often thought of as a children's song, I have never seen it that way. In fact, it moves me to tears, every single time, with its simple truths. I guess I am realizing that perhaps that's the best we can do in this world, to keep trying to create and cultivate something good. Inch by inch. Row by row. Literally. Metaphorically. And we sit on a stone wall one day and we see what has grown. And then we add to it. Inch by inch. Row by row. With, really, no end in sight, not even the criticism of a crowd, the barriers of bureaucracy, or the limits of a lifetime.

You can watch Dave Mallett, who wrote the song, perform it here.

And so, my girls will get their copies of the book I wrote for them next week, a book which is on its own little journey now (and about which I was grateful to have the opportunity to mention on Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution site this week). Presents will be opened, and food will be eaten, and pots will be banged at midnight on New Year's. And then, once more, I will stand at my back door and look at the January garden, my favorite one of the year. The dirt. The dreams. The uncertainties of what the new year holds that are both scary and scintillating. And I will once again take the garden, and life, the only way I know how. Inch by inch, and row by row. And I will, as always, trust the journey.

Thank you for joining me on our FoodShed Planet this year, for your support of my book and other initiatives, and for all that you continue to teach me. I will see you again in 2012. Until then, I wish you peace in your heart, peace on earth, and a row of your own to grow, however you define that.

Down in the Dirt, Up on the Roof, and Reaching Out

2011-12-11T06:20:00.019-05:00

And so I was filthy and freezing. Caked with mud. Dripping with rain. And happier than I had been in months. I was invited to start an informal urban farm incubator on a piece of private property. No rules, except organic growing practices. No committees. No limits. No debates. Just a patch of land, a stretch of sky, and my imagination and that of others who join me in this initiative, the goal of which is to take our local growing knowledge to the next level, specifically in relation to some particular challenges of available land in our city (deer and long-term drought come to mind). (And, by the way, I've been asked when on earth I do this stuff as I work full-time as a writer and catalyst for change, and I have a family--it takes just an hour or so a day, so I consider it my daily workout, the way someone else might go the gym or jog. You'd be surprised what you can do with a targeted hour a day, especially if you don't waste it sitting in meetings. Also, my avocation and vocation overlap so much that often I am researching stories while I am "digging in.")

My friend Lisa offered this opportunity, after seeing how successful her "sharing garden" on her front lawn has become. She is a yoga and meditation teacher and frankly, being around her calming essence is pretty much just what the doctor ordered. And who do you think showed up to join me, in the rain, in the cold, in the mud?! Yes! Rebecca Barria! And so, here we go again.

The rest of the week found me among some of my favorite people, doing my favorite things as well. The middle school kids came to the community garden twice this week (see nice article about that project here)--once to harvest for the food pantry, and once to fertilize and transplant. My friend, Farmer Sue, came that second day, and you should have seen the kids' faces when they saw the goals on the blackboard included, "Hold a chicken. Pet a lamb." You should have seen my face when Farmer Sue came back to my house for lunch and that chicken and lamb were hanging out in my backyard garden! Will there ever come a day when that is "allowed" permanently? (Here is Farmer Sue's Art Barn at Morning Glory Farm website.)

I found myself back at the Southface Eco-Office this week, this time to introduce my friend Judy Knight (whom, by the way, I met years ago in Lisa's meditation class at a nearby nature center, and who is the one who started an extremely successful CSA farm box drop near me) and her coworker Juliette to Better World Books' Steve Ward. Here is Judy and Steve talking on the Southface Eco-Office green roof (here is my video from when this building opened a couple of years ago).

I followed this meeting by a stop at Farmer D's adorable retail store. which led to us knee-deep in talk for an hour or so, about something so cool on which D is working (about which I am busting to tell you, but can't yet). (See my video of Farmer D from three years ago.)

Speaking of Farmer D, however, he came and did an unbelievably informative Walk-n-Talk around our community garden yesterday morning (he had agreed to do this, and I simply invited anyone who wanted to come). The crowd included almost our entire board of directors, some of our founding members, other members, my friend Richard of the Worms (whose worm bin is now at the community garden), Judy from Southface, and the two newest leaders of our city, who were just elected in two heated run-offs this past Tuesday. The new mayor, Mike Davis, is brand new to organic growing and has a new bed at the garden. He will be planting a cover crop of clover in preparation for his chili-contest-winning intention of growing tomatoes and peppers there. New council member Terry Nall sponsored a bed about six weeks ago and donated it to the Team Peachtree middle school kids for their use. They harvested and donated the wheelbarrow-full of food in the upper right-hand-corner of that collage from that new bed this week, and it continues to grow robustly.

And so, things are changing, but some things remain the same. I continue to dig in. Hope, as always, springs eternal. And seeds that are planted always seem to grow.

How I Will Base My Vote Today

2011-12-06T03:50:00.036-05:00

Today is a runoff election in my city, which just turned three years old and until very recently was the newest city in the United States. I have been giving great thought to what I think are reasonable expectations for citizens from their city leaders in a changing world, and will vote for the people that I think can meet these expectations:

Citizen Expectations for City Leaders in a Changing World

We expect open-mindedness and knowledge about what's happening elsewhere,and how we fit into this larger world. We expect an articulated vision and observable actions that support increased local resiliency both individually and collectively. We expect protection of the commons we share: air, water, and land, and an educated awareness of our limited resources. We expect ease of use for health-enhancing transportation options such as walking and biking. We expect adequate, up-to-date public safety and a comprehensive emergency preparedness plan. We expect a road map to energy independence. We expect support for our ability to grow, make, market and access fresh, local food for ourselves, our families, and our community. We expect robust encouragement of a vibrant local business community so that more money is kept circulating in the local economy. We expect consideration for the most vulnerable among us, and to be treated with dignity, no matter what our life stage or circumstance. We expect to have our voices heard and reflected in decisions made. We expect transparency in government, and frequent, reliable communications. We expect kindness.
(written by Pattie Baker, 12/6/11)

Less Talk. More Action. And Don't Be Afraid of the Mess.

2011-12-04T06:40:00.022-05:00

When my daughters were younger, I had a simple formula for any creative project--if the amount of time it engaged my children was longer than the amount of time it took to clean up, then it was a go. Period. It was as simple as that. Paints were out all the time in my house--butcher paper ready for roving artists was taped all over the walls, and the art easel was always set up (here's a canvas I painted one day in passing, using plants from the garden as brushes). Glitter glue? Bring it on. Rocks and sticks, and seashells from vacation, and dirt from the garden got dragged all over the house. And I had a sandbox in my kitchen, for goodness sake. (You know how long it takes to vacuum sand? Mere seconds.)


Santa Okras!

As I was working on my Santa Okras yesterday (seriously--how cute is this little gang?!), I was reminded of my old "formula" because, at first, I didn't want to drag all the stuff out, although, in reality, it only took a moment to set up and a couple minutes to clean up. The late-afternoon light streamed in the window, and I flung my back door open (I had gotten a much-wanted screen door for my birthday not long ago) and a pleasant breeze blew in. I worked diligently while deep in thought about something that has been troubling me. Something very close to my heart in my life has become more complicated than I think is necessary, and I realized the group was spending more time engaging in conversations about what to do rather than actually doing the things. This presents a conundrum for me--is this a natural "next stage" of an organization, and if so, do I stay and try to keep things simple? Or do I move on? How am I most valuable to the people involved and the long-term sustainability of the initiative? I don't know yet.


This shows what the Better World Books drop box will be like as part of a complete community recycling center


Steve Ward of Better World Books at Wheat Street Gardens

I was down at Rashid's Wheat Street Gardens again this week (Rashid is the first one to add a Better World Books drop box since I've been working with Steve Ward of that company to increase opportunities for people to be involved in the good they do--who else is in? Email me). (I love this picture of Steve--here's one from when I first met him). And I was struck by how much is growing at that urban farm, especially considering that it is just celebrating its first anniversary--something like five tons of food have been produced so far on this previously barren piece of land. Rashid and Eugene just get things done. (Here is from when I first met Rashid, and here is from when I first visited Wheat Street Gardens this past January.) Simple. Effective.

I attended the Sustainable Atlanta Roundtable meeting (sponsored by Southface) Friday morning for the first time in a year or so, and was struck by how much progress has been made by sustainability leaders in my larger metro-area, and I felt "at home." (I was even inspired to include mention of it in my "home tips and trends" blog, Hot Off the Vine, for a subsidiary of Cox Enterprises.) (And I got a kick out of all the bikes parked all over the place--it was like going to a party when I was a teenager!) These people just get things done. Simple. Effective.

The new Plant a Row at St. Pat's


Team Peachtree's bed

I stopped at the community garden and was blown away by how much the middle school kids' raised bed has grown in just a month (they will, in fact, harvest from it this week for the food pantry). Then, I stopped at the garden at the food pantry itself and honestly can't believe how the new Plant a Row has exceeded my wildest expectations (see the complete series of articles about that initiative linked at the bottom of this blog, or click here). Simple. Effective.

And then I met with Nicki Schroeder of High Road Craft Ice Cream again. She wants to start a garden in her industrial office park to provide ingredients for their small-batch, artisanal flavors (which range from custom chef-blends like grapefruit rosemary sorbet to standards like mint chocolate chip). (Have you noticed that when people are starting gardens or involved for the first time, they literally explode with joy? This is about the 6th or 7th time I've gotten a photo like this!) We selected a location, hatched a plan, and penciled in a date for the build-out (complete with ice cream samples!), once this and that is determined. Simple. Effective.

Today, I'm meeting with someone else, for reasons that I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, are meant to be. And I suspect the amount of time we spend talking about it will be far less than the amount of time we spend actually doing it. In fact, I'm bringing my pitchfork. Because I expect it to be simple. And I want nothing more than to be effective with the non-renewable resource of time with which I have been entrusted today.

I'm thinking a lot about Steve Jobs still, by the way. I'm not done learning from him. But there is one thing I do believe I've learned for sure already. Less talk. More action. And don't be afraid of the mess.

Why I Am Working Part-Time as a Change Agent with Better World Books, and How You and Your Company Can Benefit

2011-11-29T11:08:00.011-05:00

I love this company. I fell upon it one day in the parking lot of Harry's Farmers Market in Alpharetta, Georgia, and then read raves about it in Fast Company magazine, where I discovered, shock of shocks, that the company was headquartered right here in metro Atlanta! Named BetterWorld Books, it is a for-profit social enterprise built on the triple-pronged foundation of economic, environmental, and social sustainability. That's pretty much a dream company for me, as I am committed to sustainability in both my vocation as a professional writer and my avocation as a catalyst and advocate for creating a more sustainable world (I founded the sustainability commission when Dunwoody became the newest city in the United States, I helped start the largest community garden in the state, where Steve Ward from Better World Books helped plant for the food pantry with me, I wrote a book about sustainability, which, of course, I made sure was listed on Better World Books' site, blah, blah, blah). In short, I live and breathe this stuff, so when I got an opportunity to become a Change Agent for Better World Books recently, well, you can imagine how much thought I needed to give that.

Better World Books provides an easy, free way for consumers to dispose of their books by donating them, thereby diverting millions of pounds of books from landfills each year, and a convenient way for people to purchase books online while donating book-for-book to those in need at the same time. (Yes, it's the TOMS Shoes of books.)

It supports established, effective literacy projects around the world and close to home while enabling drop box hosts to access a turnkey revenue stream that benefits them as well as their favorite local non-profits.

To date, it has donated more than 5.5 million books, raised almost $10.5 million for literacy and libraries, and reused or recycled more than 66.5 million books. And, frankly, this little chart that shows the annual environmental impact of just one box pretty much blows my mind:

In short, it's a win-win-win situation.

Win: Employees of this innovative B-Corporation* don't have to choose between doing well and doing good while doing business.

Win: People with the means to buy and donate books benefit people and organizations in need, who receive books and bucks that can change their lives (see an example of this here).

Win: Companies that want to do good and/or accentuate the good they already do can now easily and publicly do so, while also generating a little extra cash and helping their local communities.

Encouraging donations is as easy as 1-2-3:

1. Shout it out. Use your full bag of communications tools to let your customers, employees, suppliers, friends, everyone know that there is a box at your location for their convenience.

2. Give incentives. Run special contests, sweepstakes, or other incentives to encourage book donations. At company locations, maybe the person who donates the most in a month wins a free latte, or anyone who donates during a set period of time gets entered in a sweepstakes for the prime company parking spot. Sports arenas could give a buck off ticket prices or a discount on concessions.

3. Share. Feature people donating to your drop box on your website, Facebook and Twitter. Have any celebrities involved with your organization? Show them donating and you may possibly garner some media attention. Be sure to circle back and blog about how the money earned is used--people really love to feel like they have truly helped. Most of all, have fun! Nothing attracts more positive action than positive energy.

Need more help brainstorming ways to align your Better World Books drop box with your company's marketing and/or corporate social responsibility objectives? I love to brainstorm ideas, and I'd love to help your Better World Books drop box program achieve overwhelming success. First things first--let's get the boxes in place. Email me from anywhere in the United States or the United Kingdom and I can make this happen for you.

Learning as I grow,

--Pattie Baker

* Better World Books was a founding member of B-Corp and is now joined by almost 500 other companies nationwide that harness the power of private enterprise to create public benefit. I love it, love it, love it.

A Harvest of Good That Explodes from Within (Introducing my Brother-in-Law, Mitch Baker)

2011-11-27T05:36:00.032-05:00

And so I dug them out, the crowded plants whose leaves had been heavily harvested this week during the big Thanksgiving food pantry harvest (111 pounds, whereas two years ago it had been maybe 6). I replanted just turnips, already strong with new leaves, my community garden bed undergoing a transformation, yet again, from crop to crop, from season to season. There is no off-season when you are feeding people in need. Hunger doesn't take a holiday, and constant attention to what's going to be "harvestable" next makes the difference between overflowing buckets and empty-handed.

My brother-in-law had called and was on his way, walking several miles, loving the hills of Atlanta after his flat walks in Florida, where he lives. While waiting, I worked my way through the garden, adding turnips to my friend Bob's bed, where enormous lettuce heads had just been harvested; removing lettuce bases from David's bed to transplant over at the food pantry garden under the cold frame for winter growing, and replacing them with cold-hardy collards and kale; and watering the middle-school-students' bed and noting that this space which was nothing by grassy ground a mere month before would be ready to harvest when next they come.

Mitch came bounding around the bend, swinging his arms, breathing in the cool morning air. The previous year he couldn't get up the hill in front of my house, and here he was, strong, energetic, happy (the pictures to the right show him last year, and now). He had pretty much been issued a death sentence last December 29 by his doctor, and that day, that very day, he changed. In the following five months, through diet, exercise, and sheer will, he dropped 94 pounds and changed the trajectory of the rest of his life.

We went over to the food pantry garden, where so many families had harvested this past week, where we have a plan in place to literally quadruple the size of the garden by summer for less than twenty dollars. It was just a little more than a year ago when that space was nothing but grass as well. It had transformed.

I asked Mitch to "just do what you want to do" for my camera, and he did this (see picture at right). And in that moment, I knew. There is no time when we, as humans, are not transforming something, including ourselves. There is no seed of change that isn't growing, right now, whether you can see it or not. There will always be a harvest, of something, even if it's the knowledge to do something different next time. And there are moments, such as this, when the harvest of good is so overwhelming that it overflows, that it explodes from within, and expresses itself in such a renewal of life's joy that you no longer question. You simply no longer question. Or, at least, I don't.

(And yes, ladies, Mitch is available. He lives in Delray Beach, Florida, which is one of my favorite cities on earth--see one of my many posts about it, titled National Model of Sustainability. He is kind, funny, smart, hard-working, poetic, and really open-minded. He is not just my brother-in-law but also one of my very closest friends. I'm feeling a bit like a yenta after a match that recently occurred with my friend David and another friend of mine as a result of this blog, so why not try with Mitch, too, right? Artsy, outdoorsy ladies who live in or near Delray Beach: email me for an intro.)

Life Has No Lesson Plan (from a Garden to a Global Math Challenge to the Most Sustainable Shoes in the U.S.)

2011-11-20T07:09:00.015-05:00

My older daughter is currently wrapping up 36 consecutive hours spent locked in her high school with 75 other students and one of the most passionate teachers I've ever met. They are joining schools all over the nation and world as participants in an applied mathematics competition where teams of four (40 percent of whom are girls, by the way, and that number goes up every year) choose one of two real-world problems (how to structure a bike-share program in a major city, as an example of one of last year's challenges) and use math modeling and logic to propose comprehensive solutions.

I volunteered to chaperone the first night, which meant staying up all night (except for right after I said, at around 3 AM, "I can definitely do this!" and then, with my next breath, almost impaled myself with the scissors I was using to make seed packets as holiday gifts as I fell fast asleep for two hours.) This photo is a shot of where I set up "camp," right outside the media center that served as the "dorm" for the girls. Yes, the night, like the photo, was a blur (and I was thankful for extremely good company from another mom, who spent the time sorting photos and chatting with me). You haven't felt hope for the future until you see 76 ethnically-diverse 16 and 17-year-olds exploring open-ended real-world math problems, by choice, over an entire weekend, and having a great time doing it (the frisbees and scooters in the school hallways helped, of course).

The most important parts of this equation? This challenge is open ended. There is no right answer. It requires creativity, innovation, and original thought. There are no grown-ups telling them what to do. They are able to work together with peers to find solutions. They are working on real-world problems to propose answers that could actually be implemented. And they are having fun while doing it.

Back up a few days, to my younger daughter's health class. Kids bounded down the hill from the middle school for the third week in a row now (here is how it started), through the gate that was bolted for years and now allows them access to our community garden right across the street from their school. They saw the simple goals on the blackboard. They know how to do all these tasks now, and where everything they need is located, and thus set out to achieve them with no other direction. They self-divided into teams, student leadership emerged, solutions (such as how to use a wheelbarrow with no wheel--2 and 4 of them carried it at a time, over and over again) proved successful, and answers to questions they didn't even know they had became evident (how long does it take for garlic to start to grow? That would be a week).

My 16-year-old has never had her hand in a school garden because every single administration throughout the years either wasn't interested in a school garden or was waiting for those perfect curriculum tie-ins, those lesson plans that propose pre-determined conclusions and I believe thereby kill the creativity, joy, and wonder of discovery ("Today we are going to learn the life cycle of a bean"). (This actually worked out, however, because it further inspired me to expand my home garden over the years so that my children could learn from it). (Blatant book plug here--I could use your help getting the word out. I'll be blunt--reviews have been very generous: here is the latest; but sales are sluggish.)

I want to tell you for certain--you don't need lesson plans. Anyone who doubts me just needs to see children in a garden to know for sure that they learn massive amounts of information from math to science to language arts to history, from physical education to health to art to even music (the calls of the birds, the rustle of the leaves, the howl of the wind, the rhythm of shovels in motion).

More importantly, they learn they are necessary, that they matter. They learn how to do real work to grow real food. They learn by doing, by asking questions, by listening to conversations, by noticing changes from week-to-week, by testing their hypotheses without adult-led pre-determined destinations. Squeezing the juice from rotting tomatoes into a bed of soil, as one group of girls (including my younger daughter) did after wondering about it? Let's see what happens!

If you're a teacher who is required to submit lesson plans, I'd suggest you simply list a few goals, go to the garden, and see what happens and fill your lesson plan in afterwards. If you are a parent who is tired of waiting, I say don't.

Being immersed in a can-do, create-solutions environment can change your life in many ways. Here's what happened to a girl who grew up in an entrepreneurial, art-based family, where a pottery studio was just a normal part of the house and providing professional artists to major theme parks was a day's work. She saw a need for something, and created it (even though she had never made this particular thing before). She wondered how to make it better. She kept exploring, asking, questioning, connecting. She tried out solutions, made them better, tried them out again. She, frankly, didn't stop until she created what are right now the most sustainable shoes in the United States. Minimalist shoes that mimic the joy and health benefits of going barefoot. Made of recycled materials that are fully recyclable. Total cradle-to-cradle adherence to best practices, and beyond. And mom-friendly, folding up and fitting in a bag, going from walking to school to today's tetherless work sites (have laptop, will travel) to wherever else the day takes you in a snap.

Meet Rachelle Kuramoto of Kigo Footwear, whom I met this week and whose Flit shoe model I've been, well, flitting around in all weekend (including that night in the high school). TOMS Shoes (which, as you know, I love), move over and make room. There is a new shoe in town (and one which works better with socks than my TOMS Shoes, so it will take over my winter wear), and my feet are definitely happy feet--and I'm not talking about the penguin here! But you want to know what makes me even happier about meeting Rachelle? Her thoughts about The Art of Making Mistakes. Her extraordinary, immediately-evident poise and strength. Her positive mental and physical energy (she is running the Big Sur Half Marathon today, by the way). The fact that she is in this world, thinking, creating, doing, and that I now consider her my friend. And the fact that I could tell my daughters about her and her company, as another example of what's possible in this ever-changing world.

Listen, 90% of the future's jobs don't exist (and what will become of me in a world where print is possibly dead is a big, fat question to me right now as well). If you have not seen this excellent 4-minute video yet, I strongly suggest you watch it. I saw it several years ago, and it immediately changed my life, and the type of advice I give my daughters. It continually reinforces for me the extraordinary value of creative thinking and innovative risk-taking needed for the future (skills most American children are not learning in school), and how I will go to the mat (or the garden, or the high school overnight) to make sure my daughters are immersed and encouraged in these attributes. Because, guess what? Life has no lesson plan.

Life's Crosswalks UPDATED

2011-11-13T07:42:00.034-05:00

It wasn't that long ago that I asked of city officials everywhere, "Have You Walked a Mile with a Child? (And Other Questions about Walk/Bike-Friendly Greenwashing)" I love that post, because in the simple 99 words that followed, I pretty much encapsulated the last 11 years of my life, and the challenges we've had walking and biking to school. A little has changed--a crosswalk here and there, a light that now allows enough pedestrian cross time, a little more awareness. But most of the things I outlined did not.

However, there has been a bigger change. A change that I knew was coming. A change that I warned you about in Hallelujah (see pages 156-159 in my book--you can be reading the Kindle version in seconds for much less than the cost of a latte), when I told you that there was a small aperture of opportunity for when your children are old enough to go the distance and young enough to not care what their hair looks like when they get there.

That change is called growing up. It's called changing schools, changing life stages, getting involved with friends and clubs, and other things that make a half-hour walk or bike ride to or from school not something anymore on the priority list in a city where it is difficult to do so (and certainly not with mom). And that change has happened in my home. And so, no, you don't see me out there anymore, sticking out my arm and begging cars to stop at crosswalks, or taking photos of trucks parked on sidewalks in our pedestrian path. In all parts of my daughters' lives, in fact, I am No Longer Julie McCoy, Cruise Director. We have all crossed over to the other side of the street, and things are different now.

I am, once again, full-time, Pattie Baker, Concepts/Content Provider. I knew I was "back" the other day, when I wore a pair of shoes that I hadn't worn in, oh, 17 years (are they possibly back in fashion?), and the sound of them clicking on the floor reminded me of that other-me, the corporate person I used to be. I was working at the headquarters of UPS and was pregnant with my older daughter. I project-managed and wrote sales and marketing campaigns for national accounts, and worked with external design firms to do so. Every time they came to the corporate building, I had to go down to the front lobby to escort them up. As my pregnancy progressed, this got more and more exhausting, and the sound of those clicking shoes took me right back. I ended up having my baby (not at the office!) and launching my freelance writing career during maternity leave. I came back for 6 weeks, during which time I was juggling all of this. As luck or serendipity or, my favorite, kismet, would have it, the company had a buy-out, which I took, and I've been running my own business, raising my daughters, and juggling, ever since. (See this post that mentions UPS, and my relationship with it--interestingly, it is the third most viewed post out of 732 I've written in five and half years.)

Over the past 16 years of my business (following 10 years on corporate staffs, including Turner Broadcasting, USA TODAY, and MetLife), I've written complete corporate marketing campaigns, proprietary magazines, consumer-facing and business-to-business blogs, all types of newsletters, and editorial feature articles for local, regional, and national publications. I've had terrific long-term clients at various times over the years (Turner Broadcasting, American Cancer Society, Cox Enterprises, New Life Journal) that have required me working at odd hours (hence, the 4 AM wake-up habit) to get it all done while juggling a growing family (I went through my entire second pregnancy without most of my clients knowing, and then took just two weeks off). And I've gotten nice comments like these:

"Her writing needs almost no editing, and she has consistently met every deadline I've given her."--Maggie Cramer, Managing Editor of New Life Journal

“Pattie's creativity, insightfulness, and truly exceptional writing skills make her a key asset to every project she undertakes. Her enthusiasm and positive energy are inspiring, while her encyclopedic knowledge and detailed understanding of complex sustainability issues are invaluable from a client perspective. For organizations developing, implementing or expanding a sustainability program, whether basic or ambitious in nature, Pattie can bring new clarity and success to your project. Highly recommended!”--Judy Knight, Director of Marketing and PR at Southface

Now that I'm no longer walking and biking to school, I have what can actually be called a normal work day, and I am therefore actively pursuing additional clients. I am looking specifically for two new 10-hour-per-week contract writing relationships. My specialty is all aspects of sustainability, including small business marketing (see 101 Marketing Ideas with Pattie Baker, which I wrote for a Cox subsidiary, specifically for small businesses). I typically hit the ground running for my clients and they get on-time, on-target deliverables with no overhead or benefits costs. Short-staffed but aren't hiring full-timers? Not able to afford an agency's mark ups? I fill that gap. Contact me here.

So many companies are making a positive difference in the world through their triple-bottom-line business decisions. I help you get the word out in ways that matter. To all my FoodShed Planet friends (especially the Atlanta Greenies), I would appreciate it if you could get the word out about me, as I hope you feel I've done that about you and your initiatives over the years.

I am excited about where the journey will take me next, as I know it's not taking me to school on a bike anymore. And that's now finally okay.

Stay tuned to FoodShed Planet each Sunday (and more frequent updates on Twitter @pattiebaker) for stories about:

* The food pantry garden (I've been asked to guest-blog about it on a major site);

* The middle school relationship with the largest community garden in my county (which was a grassy field just two years ago when I helped start it) (I call this photo "Coach Burdette standing in the light as his students jump for joy");

* The surge in sustainability support in my city (which was the newest city in the United States three years ago when I started the sustainability commission);

* Operation Plant a Row 2012 (here's a handy link to my series of articles on this initiative);

* An additional exciting year-long project right here on FoodShed Planet for 2012 (hint: it is related to something in my book, aligned with the changes happening in my family);

* And a few other surprises!

A fiercely independent person (having come from tough immigrant stock*--if you know my mom, you know what I mean!), I have learned over the years (especially since community gardening) to ask for help when I need it, and I welcome your help with open arms now. And don't hold it against me that I grew up a Mets fan, as indicated in this photo--I married a Yankees fan! Besides, my maiden name was Kulfan and the big joke in our house was that we weren't Mets or Yankees fans, we were Kulfans (that still makes me laugh, Dad). And, as always, I continue to trust this unpredictable, surprising, uniquely-unrepeatable journey called life.

* My heritage is 50% Irish, 50% Czechoslovakian, and I am a second generation American from all four grandparents. My dad worked at the headquarters of Metropolitan Life Insurance Company (now known as MetLife) at One Madison Avenue in New York City for 35 years and we had many pencils in our house that said that name on the side of them. I was the only first-grader in my class who knew how to spell Czechoslovakian and metropolitan, and I was horribly proud of this!

UPDATE (11/14/11): Just got a gig as a Change Agent for Better World Books. The company is committed to triple-bottom-line sustainability (http://www.betterworldbooks.com/info.aspx?f=bottomlines ), and is one of only five B-Corporations in GA (http://www.bcorporation.net/). It donates a book to global literacy projects for every book sold (and my book is even for sale on its website!) and, of course, it helps keep books out of landfills. The property owners make money from the BWB drop boxes every single month (10% goes to the them, 5% goes to the non-profit of their choice). Email me if you want to host a drop box on your commercial or institutional property anywhere in the U.S.!

The Exciting Return of Open Garden (and How a Middle School Got a School Garden in Less Than Two Weeks)

2011-11-06T07:00:00.014-05:00

And so it was that I was just minding my business, tending what I already have going on, when a physical education coach at the middle school directly across a side street from the community garden contacted me. He teaches a 9-week health class. Instead of running laps on this track one class day each week, he wanted the kids to do real work that matters to grow real food. He wanted to start a community garden at his school, but was told "someone is already working on it," (which would be a high school student-led initiative that aims to leverage the school garden movement already underway in my city into one umbrella collective) yet no work has started on the grounds and the reality of that plan happening this year is slim. (By the way, here is my school garden site-survey post from December 9, 2009, Sunny, Flat and Possible, which includes my video about the prime location at this middle school for a garden). He wondered if the class could come to the community garden (across the street and a short walk from the easy-to step-over gate by the track pictured in this photo) instead. His class would only have 55 minutes to get there, to work, and to get back in time. Would this be possible?

I recognized this man immediately as a passion person. I felt it when he emailed and then spoke with me on the phone. And I will tell you right now, wherever you are on our FoodShed Planet, that when you are faced with a passion person, "no" is not an answer. I know this because I am one.

Click here to see 2-minute video

The challenge in this situation? A bolted gate at the park (the main entrance is too long a walk in another direction). See my short video here about it. The parks director of our city originally told me that one day there would be a new gate, but for now that one could not be opened easily. The answer was no. I told him that if we could not find a way for the children to have safe, pedestrian access to the park at this entry point, then this relationship with the school simply would not happen. I started thinking about Plan B, because I knew I could not go back to the coach and tell him no.

The parks director, Brent Walker, agreed to meet with me. We walked the fence line. We crossed a weedy field and climbed a precipice. We evaluated the route the kids would be taking from the school property, right by the track, right beyond the trees. We hopped the fence on the way back. And I don't know if the sight of a 48-year old mom hopping a fence is what did it; or the realization that it was simply ridiculous to let this little, obviously surmountable barrier stand in the way of a terrific, new relationship that would immediately benefit 30 children and enable this middle school to instantaneously say it has a school garden; or the fact that Brent is a passion person, too, who realized, "This, I can do." But Brent looked at me and said, "Yes."

And he did.

And Coach Burdette and his class came.

And I stood there, under the trees beside the garden, welcomed them, and said, "You are the very first school class to come to this community garden, and as of right now, this moment, the middle school officially has a school garden."

They filled the bed that a local city council candidate sponsored for them and that my friend, Bob, built for them, to grow food for the food pantry (on which, school statistics would suggest, at least 30% of them may rely). They raked leaves to use as a carbon source to mix with the pumpkins (leftover from a church fundraiser) they each got to smash to make compost, in which my friend Don led them. They planted. They watered. They worked. They learned. And they are coming back again this week. And next week. And every single week of school after that, passing the baton to the next 9-week class and then the next.

I heard kids says things like, "This is fun," "When do we get to do this again?" and "Can we come and work whenever we want?" One girl came up to me and said proudly, "When I lived in Florida, I got up every day at 4:30 and worked in my grandmother's field. She payed me." And then she added, softly, almost in a whisper, "I still get up at 4:30 every day, you know." I looked at her and said, "So do I" and we both smiled at each other, no other words necessary.

* We wondered if they would be able to handle wheelbarrows full of the heavy compost. They are.

* We questioned if they would be able to stay "on task." They are.

* We questioned whether real work with real learning would be possible with so many kids and so little time. It is.

And for those of you who might be involved with elementary school gardens, I have to tell you. This was my first time working with a middle school class in a garden, and the middle school may be the sweet spot for school gardens--the kids don't need or want much adult hand-holding, they love to work in teams, and they are capable of doing far more than you may realize. I told them "I'm going to tell you the goals each week--you figure out how you want to get them achieved. There are no wrong answers."

A number of people who have read my book comment about Open Garden, which is featured in it. The line I most often hear is, "You must really miss Open Garden," because, yes, I wrote about it with passion. Open Garden was the name I gave to the event I hosted once a week for months one year where I would swing open my garden gate and invite the children of the neighborhood in to do hands-on gardening projects. It was a remarkable experience, but its time had passed and it had not yet been replaced in my life.

When those kids and that coach (whom I had not even met in person before that day) came ambling down that path, I felt my throat choke up a bit as I realized--it was the return of Open Garden. And when the coach called me afterwards, his voice gushing with excitement, he told me that his other classes were mad that they were not involved, and I told him that maybe, just maybe, the time may finally be right for the school garden right on their campus to take root. I mean, look at it this way--every single class that coach gets in his class after this school year will have had the experience of an elementary school garden. They will expect it once they get to the middle school.

When I was initially trying to figure out how to make this work, someone said to me, "Maybe next year the new gate will be in and this will be possible," and I replied, "These kids don't have a year to wait to improve their health and knowledge. They have now." And now they have a school garden.

What can you help make happen now, today, where you live? Don't take no for an answer. If you get push-back, find another solution. There is always another solution. And you may be surprised to find you are surrounded by more passion people than you realize.

Kindle Version Available through Holiday Season for Just $1.99

2011-11-03T15:31:00.058-04:00

Click here

The Kindle version of my book is now available in all Amazon markets. I'm offering special pricing of US $1.99 (or equivalent local currency) for the Kindle version throughout the holiday season to encourage maximum accessibility.

* This book contains inspiring stories and actionable tips, not just about food but also food for thought on a whole range of topics that encourage you to become more resilient and healthier, and to increase eco-literacy in your children.

* This book makes it easy (and fun) to dig in and make a difference in your garden, your family, and your city.

* This book will make you think, laugh, possibly even cry, and definitely want to plant something (or even ride your bike for the first time in years, or make my famous Meal Muffins).

* This book chronicles a joy-based journey, and invites you along for the ride.

* This book puts a stake in the ground about a particular place in the world at a particular time in history, what went wrong, and what one mom is doing to try to make things better (and what you can do, too).

* You will look around you differently as a result of reading this book, and you will feel, finally, a little bit of control in an increasingly chaotic world.

Here is a recent review of Food for My Daughters, written by a well-known writer in Texas (whom I've never met in person) named Pamela Price. Here's an excerpt:

I love this book . . . The text is warm, witty, accessible, and engaging–just like all of Pattie’s writings. Written in a seasonal garden journal format, this memoir of motherhood and vittle raisin’ is also chockablock with tips, ideas and resources. It’ll go on my shelf next to Michael Pollan’s work and represent a Southern gal’s POV on a complicated set of issues related to food safety/security and well-being. (I think Pattie may be a transplant to the South, but we will claim her!)

Here is the tweet sent out by the Southface Energy Institute yesterday:

Sustainable Foodies: 'Food for My Daughters' a FAB book by Atl author Pattie Baker, now on Kindle, $1.99. A MUST READ! http://goo.gl/UtkET

Here is a tweet sent out by Katherine Gordon, the founder and owner of Maternal Instinct, a creative communications agency based in Palo Alto that specializes in helping major corporations market more successfully to women (who make or influence 85% of all consumer purchasing decisions):

Beautiful story about kids, food, gardening, sustainability + more just $1.99 thru the holidays. I loved this book! bit.ly/vYxmjx

See the book's website here for more media coverage, plus select readings from the book, a video about it, some photos, and more. See the US site for customer reviews. See the links below to "Like"! "Gefallt mir"! "J'aime"!

US: Order here

UK: Order here

Germany: Order here

France: Order here

If you could do me this favor, please take a moment and pass this post on via your blog, social media outreach, or over-the-fence or waiting-for-the-bus chats. You don't have to be a gardener (or farmer, as I was recently called in O: The Oprah Magazine) to benefit from the positive messages in this book.

I love this book. I wrote it for my daughters. And now I am excited to be able to finally share it with you, all over our FoodShed Planet, in the most affordable and easiest way.

A percentage of the proceeds from the sale of copies of Food for My Daughters, in all formats, will be donated to help grow food for those in need. In fact, it already has.

And, by the way, I do not yet have a Kindle. Reading a book is a very kinesthetic experience for me. In fact, I wrote about my "relationship" with books as a guest blogger on Better World Books' blog today, after I was invited to do so as a result of my Jamie post.

"Look Inside the Book" Now Available (and Back to Sundays for Me)

2011-10-31T14:24:00.028-04:00

Click here

Am excited to see that the Look Inside the Book feature is now live on my Amazon listing for my book. Take a look. And breaking news: the Kindle version is now available for just $1.99: click here.

Am also excited to announce that this flurry of "FoodShed Planeting" is going to settle back into our lazy Sunday mornings together again, since I'm being called in some new directions during my morning "writing time." I'm laying off the weekday whirlwind (except for when the Kindle version of my book becomes available any day now), so tap back in on Sundays with a warm cup of coffee or tea and we'll visit. See you soon!

Live Life Out Loud, Like David Does--UPDATED!

2011-10-31T05:31:00.022-04:00

So, David's food pantry bed has flourished. As I transplanted some of the lettuces yesterday, I thought about David and our journey as friends. David starred in two professional two professional theater productions with my older daughter and they became fast friends, partly because he was also a vegetarian and they could make "cast food" choices together, but bigger picture, because they saw eye-to-eye on many things in life.

David wanted to start a home garden--enter me, stage left. We became good friends, he came to my Grand Celebration of the Arrival of the Worms party almost four years ago now (it's mentioned on pages 3-4 in my book), he made me a shirt that says "I've Got Worms" (which, I've been told, I should not be wearing out in public). He recently took over, and transformed, that little abandoned bed at the community garden that is for the food pantry, which he tends at least twice a week. He was my major partner in creating the Plant a Row at the food pantry garden across the street from the park where the community garden is, and now he comes every week to help with whatever needs doing at that garden. But none of that is why I'm telling you about David today.

David is 61 years old and attended Ohio State University in the tumultuous years of 1969-1971. He didn't get a degree, and recently went back to college at the Georgia Perimeter College campus that is in my city. And he is currently (as in tomorrow) running for Homecoming King. What I like about David: he shows up; he does what he says he's going to do; he brings positive energy, humor and honesty to everything he does; he makes me laugh out loud; and most importantly, he lives life out loud. Good luck, David. That's one vote I wish I could cast.

And so, wherever you are on our FoodShed Planet, think of David. A different David, David Brooks of the New York Times, wrote a column a couple of days ago about lessons people learned in life and his conclusion is that those who took chances lived more fulfilled lives. So, take a chance, vote for living life out loud, and, as David says, "make an old guy happy." Or yourself, no matter what your age and stage of life is.

And because I know I'm going to get emails about it, yes, metro-Atlanta ladies, David is available. (He is cute, fun, smart, financially stable, and generous with his heart, time, and spirit.) Can we make a match right here on FoodShed Planet? This could be interesting.

UPDATE 11/3/11: The AJC just ran this story about David!
And see the part about his friend writing a blog post about him--and the fact that he is indeed going out with someone he met as a result!!!! I can't tell you anything else. I can't. I can't. Not yet.

It Takes 2 Years, 328 Days for Compassion to Die

2011-10-30T06:01:00.017-04:00

People dancing at a public park I visited

So I'm curled up watching the original Footloose movie with my family (as a backgrounder before seeing the just-released remake, and really, if you haven't seen it in awhile, you will be shocked at how good Kevin Bacon is in it). The whole town hall thing in that movie dragged my head back to things that have concerned me here close to home. I'm not going to spend much more time on it on this blog (see my little one-paragraph summary of it here, and see my friend Bob's latest round-up on the issue here if you are interested). I just want to share this "food for thought" with you (especially if you think "compassion" is a soft topic that has no place in public decision-making), from this dialogue snippet from the movie:

Coach Roger Dunbar: It doesn't take much time for corruption to take root, Reverend.

Reverend Shaw Moore: How long is that, Roger?

Roger: About as long as it takes for compassion to die.

So, for those of you keeping track out there, who may have been following decisions made by the newest city in the United States* (which started operating on December 1, 2008), I'll tell you how long it takes. Two years, 328 Days.

*By the way, I stopped writing that blog (Sustainable Dunwoody) almost 2 years ago, and it still gets about 1,600 page views per month. Also, Sustainable Pattie, which I stopped writing in May of this year, still gets 1,700 page views per month, and the blog you are reading (FoodShed Planet) gets 15,000 per month. So, yes, folks are watching. And, please, if everyone reading this could exhibit one act of compassion today, I think that would be helpful, in a small "stone in the pond" way that can actually make a difference. (That was my first blog, by the way: Stone in the Pond.) Also, see "Now Is the Time for That" on page 166 in my book.

Puttering, Pondering, and a Prototype That Will Make You Smile

2011-10-29T06:22:00.008-04:00

I walk up the wheat straw path, no longer visible under the fallen leaves. I scoop the leaves in my arms so that I can add them to my compost tumblers, getting the desired balance of carbon to nitrogen often a challenge as I have so much green waste and not enough brown during most the year. I move the hog-wire circle to a place where collecting and storing leaves for the winter will be easy, and I start to fill it. It is then I notice it. The leaves of my maple trees, planted years ago in hopes of one day hanging a hammock, are almost a fluorescent orange. And I have almost missed it. I have been too busy. I have been going here and there, digging in to other farms and gardens, getting mired in local politics yet again, covering stories for my blog and my business, even attending a few evening events (which is very rare for me, with my wake-up time of 4 AM). Yet leaves have been changing color, apparently, and falling, completely oblivious to me. I climb in the hammock and I just lie there, a hawk circling overhead, a sparrow chirping, a breeze blowing, leaves falling on me.

My younger daughter, home sick all week, continues to entertain herself with making stop-action movies and organic personal care potions. She counts the money in the charity jar. She works on school projects. She reads. She writes. She rests. She talks on the phone to friends, once they are home from school. She tells me, "no offense," that our dinners are getting a little predictable and looks up some new variations (lemon pasta--who'd have thought?)

I putter in the garden. I notice she had started a plot of her own (when, I don't know), where nothing had been planted before, where there had been a patch just for digging, just for kids, for all these years. "I don't need that anymore," she tells me, a stage of childhood clearly behind her now. "I'm going to plant flowers instead." She asks if we could cover crop it over the winter. I toss my big, corner-of-the-yard compost pile, add the beautiful black gold to her new bed, and scatter crimson clover and hairy vetch seeds on top.

I choose the part of my garden that I'm going to keep growing for production during the winter. I hammer in rebar and bent PVC pipes and toss a doubled row cover (a fabric that lets in light, air, and water) over it, creating what can only be called an enormous caterpillar in my yard. (See how to do this here--could not be easier.) I consider painting eyes on it, adding antennae, and then I realize I'd be doing that for me now, not for my children.

I come inside, night falling, and I hot-glue organic cotton balls and a soft sculpture face I created onto one of the 30 or so dried okras I hand-painted red to make my Santa Okra prototype (see Please Don't Encourage the Okra). I take photos, and they make me laugh out loud.

It rains, and I think of all those seeds and shoulder-to-shoulder greens out there getting a good soaking. I think of the garlic I have yet to plant, a space cleared and ready for it. I think of hooping and row-covering my Plant a Row on the side of the house so that I get off to an early start in 2012, so that I can track the poundage from that space right away. I think of the fact that when those couple of things are done, my spring garden will be complete, even though it is not yet November.

I curl up with one of the books I'm reading, A School for My Village, and realize that my friend, Betty Londergan, is there right now, in that village, at that school for orphans of HIV/AIDS in Uganda. I remember how she emailed me from the capitol a few days ago and said, "You'd love it here! Everyone has a garden!" and how that made me smile. I know for sure now that "rich" depends on how you define value, and that abundance from nature can change lives. And, I see, clear as an Autumn day (that I almost missed), how much it has changed mine.

See "Signaling That It's Time" in the October chapter in my book.

"Yes, I Like to See The Human" (Woes, Wows, and How We as Humans Know in Our Gut Which Is Which)

2011-10-28T05:56:00.028-04:00

Big woe--my city is planning on razing an apartment complex that would displace 2,000 people, including 560 children in our schools (pictured is the garden at the elementary school where many of them attend, on the day they planted it this past February), with no concrete plan for relocating them. This is dependent on a $33 million bond passing in just a week and a half (and this apartment razing was just announced three days ago, with no public vetting). The land would be used to build a pay-to-play (I believe) sports complex, even though adding ball fields came out very low on a survey in a master planning process regarding parks and greenspace (not to mention this will raise taxes at a time when that is just not the thing to be doing to hardworking people who are all seeing rising costs in everything). There are right ways to do things, and there are wrong ways, and I think we as humans know in our guts which are which. (See The Smell Test, The Big Top of the Mountain Secret, and especially "And Into This Madness Came the Monkey Origami" on pages 26-28 in my book, for some things I have learned on this journey.)

Wow #1: My older daughter said to me at intermission at an arts performance at a high school last weekend, "Would you like to see the human?" Um, yes I would! Called the H.U.M.A.N, it is a new vending machine that appears to be a highlight with all ages, but I particularly noticed that teens swarmed around it and enjoyed purchasing healthy snacks from it, and complete strangers were engaged in conversation about it. A portion of the proceeds help fight obesity and malnutrition, and, of course, a portion of the proceeds go back to the school to fund life-changing programs for these kids. This particular school has a high rate of students living in poverty, and the only grab-a-snack food option within walking distance of this school is a drug store (which, by the way, did not consider how the students would get to the store when it was built recently) Many students here are involved in after-school sports and the arts, and healthy snacks will make a difference. Free professional marketing suggestion for the company: Change "man" to "me" in the tag for H.U.M.A.N. for two reasons: this generation (and frankly, mine) has moved way beyond a singular gender as a collective identifier, AND "me" is far more empowering, and dare I say, humanizing. And, yes, of course I shot a little video for you.

Wow #2: I came home and saw this bag sitting at my front door. I thought it was a gift from one of my wonderful garden friends, but then saw it was my order from Office Depot! Not only do I love that Office Depot is continually taking a leadership position in sustainability initiatives (this one reduces packaging), but, you know what? It felt plain old nice to get a delivery like this. And as my links above indicate, at this point in my life, I think nice (well, kindness, actually) is a whole lot more important than just about anything else. Bravo, Office Depot. It made me want to give you a little jelly jar full of herbs. In fact, I may do that today, because my guess is there is someone working at your location nearest my city who may live in those apartments and who may need a jelly jar of nice.

What You Can Do Now:

1. Get involved in your local government. Get informed on issues. Cast your vote. In my city of 45,000 citizens (5% of whom are about to be displaced without ever having a chance to comment at City Hall), a voter turnout of 10% in two weeks is probably an ambitious projection. The election could possibly come down to single-digit differences, and chances are it's the same way where you live. Go. Vote. Make a difference.

2. Vote with your dollar for companies that help make healthy choices more accessible and those that are increasingly committed to triple-bottom-line sustainability (environmental, economic, and social). Check their websites. If you can't find mention of this immediately, they're not doing it. Follow them on Twitter (you can follow me here, by the way), and send them comments. They have someone assigned specifically to social media efforts, and your comment will get noticed and most likely replied to and acted on. Don't waste time with letters, phone calls or even emails anymore.

3. Give someone a "jelly jar of nice," however you want to interpret that.

Bottom line: Yes, I like to see the human. I like to see the humanity in my city. I like to see human health in choices offered to teens. I like to see the full range of human impacts addressed by companies. And I like to see the good that we as humans can do when we are simply and truly kind to each other.

See "Woes, Wows and What You Can Do Now" as special features in every single chapter of my book. And take recommended actions that can make a measurable difference.

Operation Plant a Row: How You Are Necessary (The Grand Finale, Or Is It?)

2011-10-27T06:13:00.027-04:00

Yes, I love that the garden we helped create at the food pantry in my city gets harvested so robustly by the food pantry clients every week (pictured is yesterday's harvest of lettuces, cooking greens, and peppers--five little beds puts fresh food on the dinner tables of 15-20 families each week).

Yes, I love the long rows of lettuces, broccoli, and more, at the Chattahoochee Nature Center's Unity Garden urban farm (and the constant new supply of transplants being grown in the greenhouse), 100% of which is donated to those in need (pictured is from when I volunteered this past Tuesday, which is my final week for awhile because of something new and exciting, about which I'll tell you soon).

Yes, I love our big community garden (where two tons of organically-grown produce have been donated in just two years) and my new Plant a Row at my home garden, and all the other "growing" efforts to help provide fresh, healthy food to those in need. And these are good efforts, but food pantries are considered providers of emergency supplies, and true food security requires a whole lot more. As included in my book right near the beginning: Food security means all people have access to culturally-appropriate, nutritious food at all times without relying on emergency supplies.

If you are not interested in doing a Plant a Row, or if you want to go beyond that effort to increase local food security, some other ways you can get involved to improve food security (and more) where you live include:

1. Helping to eliminate "food deserts." These are neighborhoods where people simply cannot find healthy food. Sometimes elimination of this designation for a neighborhood is as simple as finding a way for the local bodega to carry fresh food, or having a fresh food truck circulate the neighborhood a few times a week with affordable produce for sale. Ask what's happening where you live to eliminate food deserts and you may find a small (or big) way to get involved--making calls, signing a petition, introducing folks who can help each other.

2. Helping to change your city's zoning and ordinances to encourage food resiliency. Something as simple as planting public fruit trees could literally change a city's food security long-term, as can allowing backyard chickens and front-yard gardens, enabling SNAP benefits (and doubling them through Wholesome Wave) at farmer's markets, and composting "green waste" (which could provide local jobs) and making it available to schools and citizens so they can grow their own food more affordably. See more ideas in my book on pages 138-139: How to Help Where You Live Be a Model Urban Agriculture City.

3. Learning about the United Nations Right to Food. See how policy change globally and nationally can encourage and support local food security.

4. Showing up and doing what needs doing. The number of volunteer hours needed each day or week by your local food pantry is astronomical, and the variety of tasks is endless. You can pack and stack boxes and bags of food, help a local food waste gleaner collect bread from supermarkets or leftover food from catered parties or farmers markets (FYI: here in the United States, the Emerson Good Samaritan Food Donation Act provides legal protections that enable people to donate food this way), participate in fundraising drives, offer your professional services (tax preparation, website development, marketing services, you name it), or simply answer phones, stuff envelopes, or help set up for the food pantry clients. These are ways to understand your local situation more and then see how you can get involved with other initiatives (that may not even be related to food) to make a measurable difference. The original chairperson of our community garden, Rebecca Barria (meet Rebecca here--gosh, I just got teary looking back at that post) helped start a literacy program for young children at our local food pantry. Every child who comes now can go to a special room (complete with rocking chairs) with a parent to read, and can then choose a book of his or her own to take home.

If you've read this far, you're clearly interested in getting involved or increasing your involvement. Just give it some thought--you'll come up with your own ideas of how you are necessary where you live to help ensure that no neighbor of yours or schoolmate of your children goes to bed hungry tonight. The simple act of forwarding this blog post to others, or copying and pasting the complete series below in your blog could, quite frankly, change the world, as seemingly small actions tend to do.

Thank you for joining me on this six-week journey. It seems so long ago that I joined Fred Conrad of the Atlanta Community Food Bank out there on his urban farm, where a late-season field of sunflowers were just opening their arms to the sun, and where he asked me to encourage you to open your arms to the national Plant a Row for the Hungry effort. Yet , here we are. The seeds we planted, literally and metaphorically, have grown. And together, we have taken positive steps forward, even if it has just been to grow awareness.

Want to be part of a global community of gardeners? Check out my friend Roger's site at Kitchen Gardener's International. (And don't miss his TEDx talk on that link, or the fact that Roger had a thing or two to do with Michelle Obama's White House garden. Here is a profile I wrote about Roger before that.)

I have included the links for my Operation Plant a Row 2012 series below. It will also continue on the bottom of this site for ease of future reference as well. So, if you haven't gotten your Plant a Row in yet and the first shoots of springtime come up and you hear a little voice in your head saying, "Wasn't I going to do a Plant a Row this year?" you can easily refer back to any information you might think helpful.

All the best to you. Please let me know how it goes.

And, as always, I am . . .

Learning as I grow,

Pattie

The Operation Plant a Row 2012 Series (written by Pattie Baker)

Introducing Operation Plant at Row 2012 (Resulting from Patience, and My Complete Lack of It)

Operation Plant a Row: Choose a Method and Get Going (Growing)

Operation Plant a Row: "I Smell the Time" and It Is Now

Operation Plant a Row: More Starfish. Mas Semillas.

Operation Plant a Row: "If You Fail to Plan, You Plan to Fail"
Operation Plant a Row: Someone Near You Needs to "Water on Wednesdays"

Operation Plant a Row: How You Are Necessary (The Grand Finale, Or Is It?)

Live Tweets from the First Local Political Sustainability Forum in the Southeastern United States: UPDATED

2011-10-26T05:15:00.029-04:00

The "Little Sustainability Forum That Could," that was almost canceled and then resurrected when a high schooler named Danny Kanso (in conjunction with a whole lot of folks, especially a man named Joe Seconder, who doggedly spearheaded the effort) saved it, happened last night in my city (which is almost three years old and was the newest city in the United States until just recently--welcome, Semmes, Alabama, to that title).

I was not there. My older daughter had an arts performance at a public high school in a different city, and I watched an extremely talented, ethnically-diverse orchestra, band, and modern dance class perform, led by passionate people in love with what they do. I got chills. I got tears. I got inspired. And then, when I got up this morning, I saw this tweet diary from last night from Beth Bond.

Along with at least a dozen other sustainability advocacy/leadership roles, Beth heads up Southeast Green, which is billed as "your trusted resource for sustainable and green business news." She traveled "outside the Perimeter" (which is the circular highway that surrounds metro Atlanta--my city sits right on the northern arc of this) last night to attend this forum because, as she tweeted, it was "the first known Sustainability political debate in the Southeast" (which is the geographic term used here in the States for this part of the country, for global friends of FoodShed Planet).

Beth's tweet diary is particularly interesting because (1) she does not live in this city, (2) she knows none of the candidates, and (3) she knows sustainability inside and out, specifically in regards to best practices both close to home and around the world. Although the details are perhaps hyper-local, I think you will find this interesting globally as part of my ongoing coverage (I covered this city from the day citizens voted for it on two other blogs besides this one: here and here) about what one city decides to do when given the opportunity to start from scratch and build its local government, policies, and practices with (or without) sustainability in mind. (For a great example of a city that is doing this truly from the ground up, after being completely wiped out by a tornado just four years ago, see Greensburg, Kansas). So, here it is (and I'd be happy to include links to other coverage, as it becomes available, for other points of view):

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Tweet Diary - Dunwoody Candidate Forum on Sustainability.

Written by Beth Bond

So this tweet diary comes a bit out of my normal range of events. I was invited by several residents in Dunwoody, GA to cover the event. I was intrigued since I haven't heard of a candidate forum, or debate for that matter, focused on the sole topic of sustainability. Is sustainability a sole topic, anyway? Needless to say it was interesting. Dunwoody is located on the northside of the the Metro Atlanta area. Straddling north and south of I-285 also known by locals as Hells Alley. The city comprises a unique blend of citizens. There is a thriving group of northern transplants who have created a community garden program, a sustainability minded community and then there is the typical Southern suburb Republican crowd. The other thing that makes Dunwoody unique is that it is only three years old. A good testing ground for sustainability issues. I hope you will find this enlightening. It sure was for me. There are some editorial tweets in there when I thought candidates were a little too, well, clueless.

To help make this easier to understand please use this key so you know who is speaking.

Bob Dallas - Mayoral Candidate denoted by BD:
Mike Davis - Mayoral Candidate denoted by MD:
Gordon Jackson - Mayoral Candidate denoted by GJ:
Robert Wittenstein - District 1 Council post 4 denoted by RW:
Terry Nall - District 1 Council post 4 denoted by TN:
Rick Callihan - District 1 Council post 4 denoted by RC:
Lynn Deutch - District 2 Council post 5 denoted by LD: (Lynn's opponent could not make the forum)

As usual to read this in the order the tweets appeared read from the bottom up.

LD: there is no suitable development for seniors. People can't stay in Dunwoody because there is a lack of appropriate housing.
RC: TSPLOST has no chance of passing (#really?) We need to take care of ourselves.
TN: #Dunwoody is currently using a #texas firm to rewrite our codes. Not sure why. Trans is number one.
RW: Zoning and Codes need to be priorities. Codes are based on DeKalb's 1970s so must be updated.
GJ: Transportation and traffic needs to be fixed. Cos are turning down #Dunwoody because of traffic
MD: it comes down to transportation. (Remember this is the guy who said this is suburbs people drive)
BD: Create a priority list for parks. Want to be a destination for families.
MD you are #scary. BD: perimeter college plans to expand. Encourage college to expand at perimeter mall and create bus service between two
GJ: Monorail that runs from Doraville to Galleria. #cool MD: we live in suburbs by choice. We want to drive by choice. Live downtown to walk
We may have additional funds that we can use for improvements. Why spend when we could wait for potential new tax dollars in a year.
RW: Crossroads Community blessing and a curse. Addressing the slow rate of traffic improvements current council tax vote is coming...
a personal choice. TN: #Dunwoody is a pass through city. Don't need to manage carpool programs because that is government creep.
...Traveling to work. RC: This is the south. People are not going to give up their cars. However should not widen streets. Carpool is...
85% of folks commute to Dunwoody in single occupancy vehicles. Your solution? LD: there is a security challenge in people's minds when...
Currently the shops are not necessarily supporting local neighborhoods.
LD: Buckhead "Buc" is a model for the mall but sidewalks need to put in place. Econ dev must be addressed shopping centers need to shops...
TN: we have not spent enough money on fixing our transportation traffic and sidewalks. RC: Shuttles need to be encouraged around the malls.
GJ: need to look at additional trans around the mall RW: has an elec veh and bikes everywhere. Need to encourage alt trans for citizens
MD: need to work with schools GJ: during the day pop doubles because of commuters. Need additional modes to get commuters into the city
BD: connectivity is the most important issue when solving transportation issues. All areas should be connected for walkability & bikes too
...but I shouldn't have to drive to Memorial Drive. BD: need to understand that DeKalb will be restructuring fees and we pay a low price now
GJ: We need to understand that the DeKalb can and will raise prices. Everyone should be recycling. MD: everyone should do it...
RW: also does not believe in mandatory recycling.
Okay my personal note - wake up #Dunwoody has no landfill. What if #DeKalb starts charging the real costs of dumping?
RC: Only 10% of businesses to do it. But City should not mandate. #what TN: the governments role is not to mandate it is personal choice.
Currently less than 25% of Dunwoody residents recycle. How do we boost nos.? LD: shocked at the rate. Education and drive for sign-ups.
LD: we need to maintain what we have first. Need a community green. Private/Public partnerships are the way to go.
RC: we should do what the city can afford to do. We should partner w/ DeKalb & Sandy Springs. #what Dunwoody left DeKalb because of service
TN: we have wasted too much money on consultants. Parks Director does have a priority list. Over time it is achievable.
RW: priorities walking trails at Brook Run, roof on Dallas house repaired
GJ: firmly committed to creating plan for parks. Regardless of referendum passing or not. Challenge right now is there is consensus
MD: Master plan was not looked at holistically each part of the plan was looked at individually.
BD: parks for older kids are not available. Parents have to leave #Dunwoody for older kids parks.
BD: Zoning is a problem to needs to support farmers market. Green markets support community.
MD: The garden should not be limited to #organics. He sees no problem with non-organic produce.
GJ: Green Market can become an educational place for students. Dunwoody is limited by land.
RW: there is no place in Dunwoody to allow for green markets. Current market is on Fed land. Only way Dunwoody could have the market.
TN: also for free market. Ordinances should be in place to support it but not dictate operating constraints
...Can be improved. RC: no place for the city to be involved. It's a free market system. City can support location and encourage home growers.
LD: sustainable agriculture "stalker" green market is small, not particularly local but is organic. Current market misses the community opp and...
LD: we should ask for LEED certified city buildings, walkability, lead by example
RC: improve our quality of life in #Dunwoody walkability and transportation susty = endure
TN: the susty commission has already done great leadership. No. one prob for #Dunwoody is transportation in regards to susty.
RW: spent the day at ARC learning about susty cities here in metro #ATL - create an environment for leadership
MD: concerned about property rights and small business. Regulation = bad sustainability. GJ: he understands green building and paybacks
What role should sustainability play in city gov? BD: leadership, setting the stage for the right questions and answers. Understands trans.
Lynn Deutch - 2/5 - understands sustainability the best out of all the candidates. Yeah #girl power. She believes in economic susty.
Rick Callihan - 1/4 - big supporter of community gardens. Also hunts and fishes. I guess that means he's for land conservation & clean h2o
Terry Nall - 1/4 - is proud of the fact that he did not send one wasteful paper mailer to citizens. #snaps
Robert Wittenstein - District 1 Council post 4 - incumbent proud of sustainability track record. Bicycles, parks and community gardens
Gordon Jackson - Mayoral Candidate - is delivering the corporate definition of sustainability - people, planet, profit
...Is worried about government regulations forcing sustainability. Hmmm if he's running for mayor what does he think his job is?
Mike Davis - Mayoral Candidate - at least he's honest. He looked up the definition of Sustainability. However, composts, rain harvest...
Bob Dallas - Mayoral Candidate - need to look at green space and transportation in regards to sustainability
Correction this is not a debate. This is a sustainability forum. So no back and forth between the candidates.
Who knew? City of #Dunwoody has around 43,000 residents. That's about 3 times the size of #Decatur.
And yes I'm OTP and in Dunwoody : )
Get ready for the tweets. Covering the first known Sustainability political debate in the Southeast.
From macro to micro SEGreen covers it all : ) (@ Peachtree Middle School)

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UPDATE: See this article in the The Dunwoody Reporter and the entire event's video coverage, linked in this post by City Councilmember John Heneghan.

And, as always, don't miss my book, available online on Amazon and Better World Books, and in metro-Atlanta at Farmer D Organics' retail shop on Briarcliff. It includes lots of tips for how you can "dig in" in your city as well.

"Because We Don't Have Any Other Choice"

2011-10-25T05:54:00.035-04:00

Food pantry clients at our weekly harvest

I have long stopped believing in coincidences, so when I saw two interesting emails this morning, one right after the other, the juxtaposition of their contents seemed telling.

One was a media release from my city, intended for broad distribution, announcing it was planning on acquiring 42 acres of land to build a sports complex (if a $33 million parks bond passes at the voting booths in two weeks) in a part of the city that shows up on national maps as a food desert, even though the Parks and Master Plan survey results (see Section 3.11 here) revealed that general park activities (e.g., walking on trails, visiting a playground, picnicking) and special events, not organized sports, were the most popular park activities "by a wide margin." In this current media release, the mayor is quoted as saying, however:

“The City regrets the need to displace residents (785 apartment units), however, in a built out environment like Dunwoody, we have found it challenging to locate a sufficient amount of vacant land for the athletic facilities desired by the community. The City will work with Cortland Partners on a transition plan for the current residents, which includes 560 school age children who are in the Dunwoody cluster; all current leases will be honored without the threat of early cancellation.”

As I was thinking about those 560 children, many of whom currently live in poverty and are slated to be pulled from what are considered among the best public schools in the county, I opened the second email.

It was from Luma Mufleh, founder and leader of the Fugees Family, originally a soccer team but now an organization that helps educate refugee children as well, who sent me footage from CBS This Morning this past Sunday. Luma's organization recently bought 19 acres of foreclosed land not far from where I live, in Clarkston, GA (see 13 Miles and a World Away). She intends to build sports fields, too (soccer fields), but as part of the first school for refugees in the nation, complete with a community garden. You can see the plan for those 19 acres at 6:30 in this video and here (the picture of the sign and weedy piece of land is what it looks like now), but, honestly, take the time to watch the whole video, if you can:

I crossed paths with Luma and the Fugees Family a couple of years ago (along with my friend, Bob: see Bob's post, Why I Do What I Do). I feel oddly drawn to them, as if I have some sort of calling to be part of them somehow, a feeling that has manifested itself in very small ways so far (organizating Watermelon Week two summers in a row, basically--see Rain, Patience, Beer, Soccer, and Ten Watermelons a Week) but hints at something larger that I just can't figure out yet.

I was hoping to sell a million copies of my book and to donate 10% of proceeds to help build the community garden at the first school specifically for refugees in the Unites States, for which Luma is currently raising money. But that isn't really going according to plan right now. (See The Lesson of the Watermelons, 2011, or Why I Know Now What I Need to Do Next.) Book sales are slow, and I haven't even recovered the money I invested to produce it yet (although so many amazing things have happened since the book has been published that I am open to it serving other purposes in my life, besides, of course, its intention as a gift for my daughters) (and I did already donate money from the book sales to do the new Plant a Row at the food pantry garden in my city, where I have no doubt that some of those 560 children get their food--here is my Operation Plant a Row 6-part series so far--the final installment will be this week). The Kindle version of my book (which is currently available on Amazon and Better World Books, as well as at Farmer D Organics in Atlanta and select libraries in the New York City metropolitan area) will be out in just a couple of weeks, and I will be selling that at the rock-bottom price I can, with the hopes that you will buy it and tell everyone you know to buy it as well.

The Oprah thing was nice, of course, but there is no mention in the print magazine or link in the online version to my blog or book so readers have no way to take action. Rosie O'Donnell is back on TV (in Oprah's old studio, on Oprah's network), so I wrote to her producers about my book, but then I added, "You know what? Forget that. If you're going to read a book, read this one instead" and told them all about Luma and the excellent book, Outcasts United, about how she started the Fugees Family (see this post from my very first blog, Stone in the Pond, which I wrote before FoodShed Planet). But I haven't heard of any calls from Rosie to Luma yet. (I also sent a copy of my book to Rosie's publicist, and am going to email her about Luma right now, so we'll see.)

I tried repurposing organic produce from a farm not far away that was "refused at market" for cosmetic reasons to the Fugees Family, and I built a team to help deliver it, but we haven't received the frequent pick-up opportunities we were expecting, so helping to feed the kids more healthy food isn't working. (See How Rotting Food Gave Me an Idea.)

I have two favorite parts of the video embedded above (besides the very moving footage at the beginning and end when Luma, who is from Jordan, recently became a U.S. citizen and children from more than 28 war-torn countries were there to witness it).

1. When the police chief of Clarkston escorts the children as they ride 10 miles each way on bikes to Agnes Scott College each day for summer school, and the chief says, "They say it takes a village to raise a kid. We are that village."

2. And then when Luma talks to Peter Jennings about the fact that the school she is building is privately funded, that they take no money from the government, and that they need to raise a lot of money to make this happen, and the dialogue goes like this:

Peter: Confident it will happen?

Luma: It's gonna' happen.

Peter: Why so confident?

Luma: Because we don't have any other choice. And if you want something to happen, you can make it happen. That's what we tell the kids.

I guess my questions this morning are:

1. What are we telling the kids in my city? What about yours?

2. What kind of "village" are we? In our cities? In our country? In our world?

3. Do we really have no other choice but to displace people in need?

4. And, as life keeps bringing me back to Luma Mufleh and the Fugees Family, I continue to ask: what am I being called to do?

I am a member of Team Fugees. You can be, too. Click here, and make the choice to help build that school, and to be part of that very special village.

A Farmer Named Sue, A Weimeraner Named Rose, Two Sheep Named Cecil and Sam, and a Shout-out to Hollywood

2011-10-24T06:02:00.033-04:00

I'm not ready for the goats, with their horns. Let's start with the sheep. I like the sheep the best. Every time I go to my friend Farmer Sue's at the Art Barn at Morning Glory Farm (6 acres that looks like a movie set, where Farmer Sue offers hands-on animal encounters and creativity-boosting art lessons), I end up with the sheep. I think that tells a lot about a person, but I'll leave you to figure out what that means about me (my younger daughter always ends up with the chickens, and my older daughter always ends up with the donkeys, so people are definitely attracted to specific species). I had gone up to Farmer Sue's to specifically learn how to do some farm chores, species by species, in case I ever do end up on an urban farm that has animals as well as vegetables. This week, sheep.

Farmer Sue showed me where she keeps their feed and minerals, as she had redesigned the farm a bit since my last time there. I was then tasked with cleaning out their shed, which was not only a rabbit-pellet-sized-manure mess, but was covered with cobwebs. Farmer Sue went back about her booming business (which included three birthday parties on Saturday and two on Sunday this weekend), and I settled in with a Weimeraner named Rose as my constant companion.

After reflecting on how lovely the cleaned shed looked and dragging the wagon with the manure across the farm to the compost pile, I sat on a stool and my two sheep buddies, Cecil and Sam, came and joined me. (Considering Cecil had worn a diaper and walked around my kitchen when he was an injured baby and Farmer Sue was bottle-feeding him, I have always felt an affinity toward him).

I just sat there with them, the roosters crowing and donkeys braying in the background, the sun shining, the leaves falling, and an incredible peace washing over me. I shot this little 3-minute video for you. Then, as I got up to leave reluctantly, Cecil and Sam and a few of their other friends headed out to the huge pasture (for which Farmer Sue has some major exciting plans next year--stay tuned) and grazed on fresh grass in the golden Autumn sun (pictured at the top of this post).

And I felt happier than a pig in, well, you know what. In fact, the next installment of this possibly 4-part series may involve the pigs. As always, I love learning as I grow. And Farmer Sue loves to teach.

Quick shout-out to Hollywood: As I was driving home, I got to thinking about how the state of Georgia is encouraging more movies to be shot on location throughout the state (Bette Midler, Billy Crystal, and Marissa Tomei are filming in my city right now), and I can't help thinking that Farmer Sue herself and the Art Barn at Morning Glory Farm are roll-'em ready for their moment on the Big Screen.

Here are some other Farmer Sue posts of mine, to help you imagine this location for your child's birthday party (or for your movie location). Contact Farmer Sue here (tell her I sent you!):

When Pigs Fly (that one has one of my favorite photos, and stories, ever)

Donkey Fur (and What That Has to Do with My Lawn and Farmer Sue) (oh, that one kicks off with a really sweet photo)

A Positive Direction

Introducing Farmer Sue!

And here are some videos I shot at Farmer Sue's:

Farmer Sue's Animals Are Just Waiting for You

Farmer Sue's Art Barn at Morning Glory Farm

Eco Lawn Mowing

Introducing the Stirrup Hoe

Sheep Shearing at Farmer Sue's

See "Hungry for the Most Basic of Human Expression--Art" in my book, available on Amazon, on Better World Books, at Farmer D Organics in Atlanta, and at select libraries in New York. (It is already sold out in Tasmania).

The Sweet Spot for Economic Sustainability

2011-10-23T06:15:00.038-04:00

I spread new wood chips around my bed (where cover crops, cooking greens, sweet potatoes, and lemon balm are currently growing for the food pantry) at the community garden in preparation for the Food Day Open House on Monday (company's coming). I chatted with Farmer Bob as he built yet another bed (this one for a city council candidate who is new to our garden, with another one about to be built, sponsored by a different city candidate, that may be used by a coach from the middle school across the street who contacted me about bringing his health class over each week). I swung by the Plant a Row across the street at the church where the food pantry distribution happens every Wednesdays. (The row is growing!)

And then I drove a short mile or so down the road, under the highway, and into an industrial park, where I found a local business which will soon be celebrating its first anniversary--by going national through the catalog of the gourmet foods pioneer, Dean and Deluca (where, by the way, I worked one winter, at its original location on Prince Street in the heart of SoHo, when I lived in NYC--this was around the time of the Brussels sprouts stalk story--see page 66 in my book).

Meet High Road Craft Ice Cream & Sorbet. Rather, eat High Road Craft ice cream and sorbet. And not just because, well, it's amazing, creatively-flavored ice cream (and we all scream for ice cream) but because it's a way that you can help the economy right now, today. Plus, you can help create jobs where you live through the simple action of voting with your dollar for other local businesses as well, and advocating at your city hall for an increased local business growth strategy for your city. You see, according to a report that just came out from the National League of Cities:

* Small businesses represent 99.7 percent of all employer firms and have generated 64 percent of the new jobs over the past 15 years;

* In 2008, Stage 1 businesses (2-9 employees) comprised 56 percent of all resident establishments in the U.S. and were responsible for 32 percent of jobs nationally;

* Local government policies help to support the creation of these jobs;

* The two policies that this report highlights as most influential for growth in Stage 2 as a business (10-99 employees) are regulatory assistance (permitting and zoning assistance programs) and partnering with small businesses.

If you are wondering how you can take positive steps forward for your community, I have three simple questions for you that can lead to real actions that make a difference:

1. Have you attended meetings at your local city hall, and met your local leaders?

2. Have you asked about your city's economic development plan, specifically as it relates to small businesses in regards to these two policy areas, and voted for the local candidates that support a robust local business environment?

3. Have you visited and supported as many local businesses where you live as possible, and encouraged others to do so as well?

High Road Craft has about 10 employees right now, which puts it right at the cusp of becoming a Stage 2 business. It is currently expanding its space and growing its operational capacity. It partners with local chefs to create custom flavors for their restaurants; with suppliers such as Cacao Atlanta (the first bean-to-bar chocolate maker in the southeastern U.S. and the first female bean-to-bar producer in the U.S.) and with a family farm cooperative for its milk; with supermarkets (such as all Whole Foods stores in the southeast region); with a local coffee roaster (which created a custom blend dessert coffee--and is a small company about which I wrote years ago); and, of course, with Dean and Deluca, which is a large business now but when I worked there, Joel Dean and Georgio Deluca were right there next to me. (Emerging idea: I'd love to help start a "green jobs" micro-enterprise where food pantry clients grow mint for High Road Craft's mint chocolate chip ice cream. This is just a thought. Just a thought. Just a thought.)

This Tuesday night, in my almost 3-year-old city in metro-Atlanta, is a Sustainability Forum for local candidates. It is being hosted by high school students (led by the indefatigable Danny Kanso). I've heard buzz that some candidates find the topic of sustainability "too narrow" (even though the city has applied for Atlanta Regional Commission's Green Community Certification at the silver level, after achieving bronze after only two years of operations, and that qualifying list touches a ton of topics and policies, and that's only one prong of triple-bottom-line sustainability). All candidates have been provided with a great many resources, and it is my hope that they will see that sustainability is a wide net that, frankly, touches everything. Wanna' know the real sweet spots for creating a sustainable city (she asks with her spoon in the French Toast ice cream)?

* Creating public/private partnerships;

* Creating a regulatory environment friendly to small businesses;

* Attracting and retaining companies that keep dollars circulating close to home;

* Removing barriers for micro-enterprise initiatives that put people in need back to work.

As for you, wherever you live on our FoodShed Planet, consider visiting a local business this week that you have not yet visited, and voting for it with your dollar. Or you can buy High Road Craft's buttermilk ice cream or line of cocktail ice creams (and one select sorbet) from Dean and Deluca's next catalog, the one for the holidays (here is their Halloween catalog) and know that you are helping a local business, even if it isn't local to you.

For those in (or visiting) the metro Atlanta area, High Road Craft is open to the public every Saturday from 10 AM-1 PM, by the way, where you get free samples from Nicki and a tour from Lolo, two of the most passionate people I've ever met. And you can buy "private reserve" flavors by the pint (I bought three: salted caramel, pistachio, and French toast, and a big portion of my dollars spent will now recirculate in the local economy). Tell them I sent you! And while you're here, swing up the street a mile or so and come visit our community garden at Brook Run Park ("where the sidewalk ends, community grows") and food pantry garden at St. Pat's directly across the street from the park. Maybe one day you'll even see a huge patch of mint growing. And you'll know what that is for.

My Jamie! (and Why I'm Oh-So-Very-Close to Him)

2011-10-22T06:29:00.011-04:00

Okay, I realize I have to give you more info about my relationship with "My Jamie," since I mention it every now and again, most recently yesterday in relation to donating all of my books (but 5) to Better World Books. "My Jamie" refers to Jamie Oliver's book, Jamie at Home, and this collage of photos is from the evening in 2008 when I fell in love with it. Here is the post I wrote about it the next day (a post which, by the way, inspired Better World Books yesterday to ask me to do a guest blog post for them, on which I'm working--thank you, Erin, for the opportunity).

I have made many references to "My Jamie" over the years, most notably in these posts:

I Got Cash. I Packed Almonds.

One World, One Garden, One Seed, and One Moment in Time

Photo of Ed Bruske taken from Jamie's blog

I don't know Jamie Oliver personally, but he follows my friend Ed's posts about the school lunch scandals, and Ed has in fact been published on Jamie's blog (see here) so, by way of the Kevin Bacon 6-degrees-of-separation thing, Jamie and I are oh-so-very-close.

I lent the book to my friend, Farmer D, once, and really, did not feel right the whole time "My Jamie" wasn't here. So, do I donate "My Jamie"? It would take a very, very good reason for me to do so.