It’s an impossibly beautiful morning, just exquisite. California blue skies. Fields on ridge have blush of green — early rains. Nights getting colder. Stars. Moon a week away from full. Red apples in trees, blue in sky, green on hills, warm morning sun. I’m taking a break from (the final stages of) Tiny Homes on the Move (I swear it’s getting better by the day) to write this.
More reggae I’m listening to “Train to Skaville,” archived on https://www.dancehallreggae.org, thanks to a comment by Gill. I missed out on most of this music back in its day. It just feels so right. I love it. Makes me happy. What a great site. Free.
“S.F. man lost in woods, survives on squirrels, lizards
A 72-year-old San Francisco man was recovering Sunday after he spent 19 days lost in a remote canyon of Mendocino County, surviving on squirrels, lizards and berries, and wrapping himself in leaves and grass to stay warm.…”
Techies in San Francisco I hear (and read) a lot these days about the rich techies pricing out the less affluent in SF.
“The average rent for a studio in San Francisco is now $2,312 a month, up 8.7 percent year over year …
The average rent for a San Francisco apartment in general is $2,899 a month, up 3.4 percent from the first quarter of 2013 and 6 percent higher year-over-year, with one-bedrooms averaging $2,782 a month and two-bedrooms with two baths up to $3,791.”
I wonder what % of these people are techies. What about lawyers, financial wonks, other corporate fat-checks? Whatever, it’s too bad. $3k per month rent is 100K in 3 years. Tiny homes, anyone?
On being native I was talking to a Mill Valley cab driver a while ago. He was thinking of leaving. I said, Look, you’re a native, you’ve got to use your knowledge and experience to figure out how to stay. You know your way around. Don’t give up. Be creative. Hang in. Whenever I meet a native San Franciscan, I say so am I — we’re an endangered species, always gets a laugh.
Bounty from beach These days if I’m not getting mussels, I gather seaweed and crab shells, stuff into plastic bags in my daypack, throw on compost pile when I get home, chop up with machete, turn into compost — which I’ve finally got figured out. This pile (5’x5′, 2-3′ high) is steaming, worms are thick. Every single scrap of food (that doesn’t go to the chickens) from 40 years is in our soil, which gets better each year. Speaking of which:
Symphony of the Soil, DVD by Deborah Koons Garcia
Was reviewed in NYTimes last week by Jeannette Catsoulis here. “Infused with an infectious love for its subject, ‘Symphony of the Soil’ presents a wondrous world of critters and bacteria, mulch and manure. Maintaining this layer in all its richness and diversity is, the film argues, perhaps our most critical weapon against climate change. At the very least, you will leave with the profound understanding that feeding our soil is the first step in feeding ourselves.”
“We don’t grow plants, we grow soil. And the soil grows the plants.”
– A farmer talking about composting