On the Road, West Coast Trip, Day 3: The Spiraling, The Adventure, and Tony!

No spills or falls early yesterday, though I did have an adventure . . .

But first, what I went for, at 9:30 AM, that first workshop hour, “Zone Zero in the Garden,” turned out to be Zone Zero in the Body. Which I very much appreciated. Can’t remember the woman’s full name, but Jeannie has been working with “how we move,” both functionally and dysfunctionally, all her life. She showed us many ways to exercise various parts of the body to bring them back to neutral. And recommended the youtube videos of Ron Jones, aka “TheLean Berets” — with a warning: “He’s very opinionated . . . But I like his opinions!”

Then I went straight to the booth where I had purchased the bracelet yesterday and exchanged it for something less dangly, and hardly noticeable on my wrist, since I already do want to wear it all the time. Not sure about the tremor yet, but last night’s sleep was profound, and though I did wake up once to pee, fell right back;, slept 7 hours altogether, and haven’t felt this refreshed in years.

And then . . . after exchanging bracelets, I started wandering. Soon I found myself in the community kitchen area, and then all of a sudden, out of the blue thundered “ANN!” It was Jordan, one of the two elven gals from Day One who have been together five years and live in a remote Humbolt county cabin. Remember them? Check yesterday’s post.

I found out more. Jordan and Tiffany are both from Louisiana, met there and started traveling together. They spent the first four years on the road, living most of that time in a mini-van, visiting friends. Today, Jordan is smoking a joint. As are many others around here, there’s even a dispensary on the grounds. It’s utterly strange to be in a place where smoking weed is normal, no big deal. But as she said, “When we first got here, we were weed workers, and didn’t get much done that first year.” Says it’s typical. “The first year people don’t get much done. But after that it becomes normal to be stoned! I do go off it for a few days once in awhile, just to reset.”

Of course I took a toke. And then another, and another, and another. Haven’t been royally stoned in decades, so yes, it did affect me greatly. More on that. meanwhile, I took her picture again, this time with her T-shirt, “Don’t kill my vibe,” and the tiny triangle near the armpit of her left arm which, she says, stands for the three counties of Mendocino, Humbolt, and Sonoma,

which constitute the heartland of organic weed growing. Wow! Had no idea, though I did know that there were clandestine patches growing illegally near Mendocino, way back when I lived there for a few months in the early ’70s.

How did the tokes affect me? Well, mostly, I “felt my age,” not in that I felt old and weary, but that I felt the immensity of the decades of wide, deep, and integrated experience that separates someone like me, old, and growing older consciously, with the fresh, bold world-view and attitude of young daring Jordan and her cohorts. It’s as if the old hippie age has been resurrected, but now multidimensionally, and spreading with intense vigor and aliveness. This convergence is alive, fully alive, despite its location bordering Highway 101. (Or is it because of this location? Do we require such drastic contrast to fully appreciate what we are doing?) Indeed, that first workshop with Jeannie on Bodily Zone Zero, was held adjacent to the highway, right there, on a wooded grassy strip right next to speeding trucks. Sometimes she resorted to a microphone.

So those decades of experiences stood between me and this nirvana-ish environment while I was stoned for those few hours. Instead of trying to do anything, I lay down, in three different places, for between 20 minutes and one hour each, getting some Kombucha at some point to help me process, and just chilling, as they say, checking out the sky, the way I used to as a kid. Intensely interesting! I give you, as  time crawled by in large flooding rushes, four photos in the order that I took them, while lying there, on the grass, oblivious to what was going on around me.



At some point, during my travels while prone on the grass, three people sat down next to me and proceeded to engage in an intense conversation, every word of which I heard, and they didn’t give a hoot. They just ignored/ accepted my presence. Loved that. Is this what “stoned” culture feels like?

Anyway, I eventually hauled myself back up and went to the place that I had been drawn to the day before, the stage that features panel discussions. This time, I stayed for three in a row. The first two were about Regenerative Agriculture, with the first panel on “Practices and Stories” from experiences with the land, weather, government, developer pressure, and so on.

I came during the Q&A. In the next photo, the man who is speaking owns and operates a long-standing and much loved flower farm, is up to his gills in debt, faces development pressure, and needs a miracle of some kind to continue. The woman behind him in line, who has never been to a permaculture convergence before, lives in a ghetto area of central California and wants to figure out how to get real food into her community.

The second panel, “Regenerative Technologies Revealed,” was introduced by “Betty Biodiesel,” here being hugged by Farmer Dave, who had just jokingly proposed marriage to her.

I was in awe of both the life stories and the dedication of all three men on this panel. The first, on the left, in yellow shirt, David Blume, “Farmer Dave,” has been a permaculturist and ecosystem designer, traveling the globe — “I take advantage of nature’s ways to create efficiencies” — for so long that he actually has the website called “permaculture.com”! Check it out. He’s now working with alcohol as a fuel. “Do you know what the biggest cause of deforestation is? Third world cooking food inside with wood fires. And breathing in so much smoke can lead to death.” Solution? “Use alcohol stoves instead, by growing crops whose heat creates sugar which fermenting creates alcohol.” ALCOHOL CAN BE A GAS! (his book and his company).

The guy on the other end, the one in the only suit at the convergence, Roland Gregg, used to be a corporate marketing director and turned into a clean tech incubator after a mid-life crisis. Here’s one of the small appropriate technologies his firm has been developing, the “vortex resonance coil,”  which “follows the natural spiral flow of all things.”


And the guy in the middle, Kevin Fretz, started out by getting nerve damage from poison while working on a farm in Canada. That led him to his lifelong quest, to heal both himself and others, including nature. He has done all sorts of things, followed through with lots of visions, his latest being “Cammies and Canines,” which both helps homeless vets and saves dogs from kill-shelters, and, along the way, gives them jobs in composting for his company, Green Earthology.

I’m getting bogged down here, so won’t go on to talk about the third panel, called “Disaster Collectivism.” I.e., how people really do come together when a collective disaster strikes. Another amazing group of people who even as individuals, have moved mountains. Especailly impressed with the story of how the owner and workers at Farmacopia, an herbal store in Santa Rosa, stepped up to the plate to help firemen and women, plus those stranded and out of their homes, during the massive fires this year, by distributing herbal teas and tinctures made with “adaptogens,” the class of herbs that does exactly that, help us adapt to changing conditions.

Just then I got the expected text on my phone. It’s Tony! Otherwise known as Anthony on this blog, a prolific commentator whom I regularly learn from. He and I had agreed to meet in person, with him driving up here from Sacramento, where he works as a bacteriologist (he calls it “innerpermaculture,” to distinguish from exopermaculture . . .) and is deeply red-pilled in innumerable areas. As soon as we met he handed me his astro chart, called it his “ID.” Loved it! Oh wow, this is another one like my own kids, born in the Uranus/Pluto in Virgo generation, and in his case, the Sun itself is sandwiched between Uranus and Pluto. “No wonder,” I told him. “You have been a maverick all your life, both drawn to and repelled by power.” Something like that. A difficult configuration for a soul to choose. He must be an old old old old soul!

Here he is!

I showed him around the Solar Living Institute grounds: we stopped in to  the booth where I got the wrist bands — he ended up getting one himself — and then we went on to find the turtle, because I wanted to take second day pictures of the progress of this sculpture, whose chief creators, happened, it turned out, to be just then lying beside it.

Today will bring even more progress, with all the areas around the turtle to be filled with plants. BTW: they tell me that the flowers on the turtle’s back are made from children’s underpants!

Tony and I then ate dinner, and were talking intensely — until we looked up to find that Starhawk was about to do an Equinox Ceremony near us with a Spiral Dance — Yes, on the Equinox! So we joined the 40 or so people who had gathered there, to participate in one of probably thousands of spiral dances Starhawk has conducted since the publication of her now classic “The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Goddess.”

What a way to end an enchanted day!

Tony and I walked back under Highway 101 to the far lot where we were both parked, and before he left he gave me yet another book: Earth Changes and the Human-Cosmic Connection: The Secret History of the World, Book 3. which, he says, focuses on the electric universe.



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On the Road, West Coast Trip 2018, Day 2: The Body — of Me, of Us, of Earth

Day two got going way before dawn, since I was still internally on east coast time. However, because I went to bed at 7 p.m. PDT, I was fine with rising at 4:00 A.M. and getting right to my daily practices — yoga, chikung and taichi. And then I sat down to write the Day One post, not really knowing I was going to do that until I did it. Now there’s the danger that I have laid in expectations for both myself and you, dear readers!

But Day 2 did offer some interesting observations. First, my body: even before leaving the hotel room I had spilled water twice (once hot, forgetting to put the cup under the machine that heats it), then I spilled the concoction I had heated up with water (an ayurvedic “golden melk” mix that I had bought on Day One at the Convergence; it has turmeric in it, so yes, very staining to the washcloth that I used to mop it up), and one more spill — the cup of coffee I had made from an organic coffee box I had brought, thinking it would be packets, and it turned out to be those drat keurig cups. I had mixed that coffee with the hot water, and the result was a sort of sludge on top, which I then put on the table on the side of the bed and was getting up on the bed to watch Fox News (amazing, that I can now watch Fox News; the only time I’ve ever watched TV was in motel rooms, but Fox News was my last choice; now it’s my only MSM choice, though still pretty bad) . . . when I moved a pillow and its edge caught the sludgy coffee and sent it sailing to the floor, staining  pillow, bed sheet, and carpet.

That washcloth got another workout, and this time the yellow stain was peppered with tiny coffee bits that refused to come out.

Gee! And I had thought I was centered and balanced, after my rough but successful Day 1 as Spiderwoman, and after a good night’s sleep!

So then, at 8:30, I got in the car to go to the Convergence, but was a bit early for my talk at 9:30, so decided to stop at a cafe in Hopland. Got out of my car, started to climb the step to the cafe, and tripped, hard (not noticing the second step), and fell, hard, but luckily, all my taichi and chikung has somehow made my body highly aware of all parts of itself all the time so the fall down was cushioned just so, with wrists and knees taking the brunt, but evenly divided. I lay there on my back just feeling all my parts for a few minutes, testing to see that every limb still worked, and yes they did, and then came the looming concerned face of an obese man who held his hand out for me to grasp and I did. He hauled me up. I walked shakily, ahead of him, into the cafe, where everybody else was now looking at me, concerned, into the bathroom, to wash off the abrasion on my right elbow and wrap with toilet paper.

Okay, so the stage was set for my presentation. I was not in good shape, apparently. My body was definitely out of kilter with its environment.

The presentation itself went as well as could be expected, given that all but three of the dozen or so people that showed up for this early morning event came one half hour late for a one hour show. But we had started late anyway, to give them time to arrive, if they wanted to. And somebody filmed most of it. And I did get through most of the 144 slides, and certainly everybody there got the gist of what we are doing at the GAPV. One woman, Yanna, who had showed up on time, and who I got to talk to at length, was terrific. She has just returned to California from 20 years in New York, where she had both spent time becoming a “viticulturist” (making wine) in the northern part of that state, and then also in NYC, where she had done some kind of sustainability work that took her to, I think it was, Micronesia, and discovered an ancient way of life that lived in harmony with the land. She figured that “some white man must have found out what they had been doing for all these thousands of years and brought it to the attention of contemporary culture,” and looked around, and yes, found the work of Bill Mollison, one of the two recognized co-founders of what we call “permaculture.” She then took an 18-month on-line course with Jeff Lawton, and came back to California to see if she could persuade organic viticulturists to adopt some of the practices of permaculture.

Wow! Some story, and that wasn’t the half of it. All day long, as I would meet people, each one had some sort of amazing tale to tell, especially the older ones, their own life story, how they ended up at this convergence; California is of course hopping with especially young permies, and with those who are connecting permies together, creating and nourishing “resiliency hubs” (like ours!),  networking various siloed projects, and scaling up. One can feel the initial thrums of the heartbeat of a new decentralized, connected, resilient way of life rising from the ruins of the old capitalist model that is crashing against limits — both the limits of humans who have forgotten their connection with own bodies, with each other, and with the land beneath their feet, and with the resource limits of this beloved finite planet.

Oh, and there’s a new podcast coming in two weeks, called TheResponsePodcast.org, a “podcast documentary series that explores how communities come together in the aftermath of disaster.” As the man who explained it said, “In its coverage of disasters, mainstream media features victims, those who are a threat, and heroes. That’s all. It doesn’t talk about the innumerable small acts of generosity that disasters inspire. For example, in the stadium during Katrina, despite what mainstream media said about it, actually people inside there were mostly wonderful to and with each other.” This podcast series will feature stories from those who have survived collective emergencies, and who helped each other get through them.

I picked up one piece of literature from a person who was, I thought, going to present in the yurt at 2 p.m. (he had helped me set up for mine there), but then the schedule had apparently changed, and he, Forest Berg, of Green Earth City, was no longer the presenter. I never did see a notice of where his talk had been moved. It had really caught my eye, because of the literature he handed me, existing and new types of land ownership for intentional communities, including co-operative ownership, akin to Mondragon.  At least I have the hand-out and will study it.

Much more from yesterday, especially personal stories, so much going on, all up and down the coast and inland. So much going on at this Convergence too, often confusing but fully, deeply alive. A few shots from Day Two:

I’m told that this strange concoction will end up as a TURTLE. Will document its progress.


An impassioned panel discussion featuring mostly Native Americans. Young woman: “This world teaches us to hate ourselves and each other. What does it mean to open up your heart?” Elder woman: “If you want to help us, then join our family.”

This beautful young couple has been together five years already; they live in a remote mountain cabin. They remind me of elves!

When I said to this sweet man, about his art, that it’s sorta dark, he said, yes, that’s what my teacher told me. The triangles on the bottom are made out of flags and oil, shellacked. His response to the Gulf Oil disaster.


This hilarious and impassioned young woman, here doing muscle-testing, was selling bracelets that supposedly, for me, will within three days, reduce my tremor 25 to 60%. We’ll see! Money-back guarantee. There’s no doubt that my spilling things is in part related to the tremor, since things at times seem to fly out of my hand.

Terrific band. Couldnt’ help but dance, at the bioregional hub gathering.

Sun starting to set. Time to go back to Ukiah.

Aha! Cultivating Zone Zero in the Garden. That’s for me, one hour from now.

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On the road, west coast road trip 2018: Day 1, SPIDERWOMAN!

Well, wouldn’t you know! Here I am, on the road, and deciding to post in the early morning from my motel room in Ukiah. Though from the title I give this post, it appears that there may be more, it’s not certain. Who knows! I might just get so swept up in the journey that I forget all about the blogging life. So, back to the tale:

Yep, I made it through that first day, that first 24 hours, despite the exhaustion, and the ungrounding, despite getting lost for 45 minutes in San Francisco in my rental car on my way from SFO to Hopland and the Solar Living Institute. I kept seeing that drat Golden Gate Bridge from odd perspectives — was either under it, or way south of it, or to one side or the other of it; I had even briefly  mistaken the Bay Bridge for it, but then had a moment of sanity, realizing that bridge was much too long to be the Golden Gate — on and on, a very extended Neptunian moment until I finally, did consult mapquest. You’d think I’d have done that earlier, but no . . .

Okay, meanwhile, let me begin again. I did manage to get to sleep around 10 p.m. the night before, but then woke with a start a 1 a.m. Lay there tossing for an hour before finally getting up and going straight into my yoga/chikung/taichi practice (something BTW, I have already done this early morning). That helped, though was still feeling a bit woozy and having trouble facing such a long day at this advanced age. Yes, I AM feeling my 75 years. Just don’t have as much juice flowing through me. Must conjure it up. Okay, well, guess what happened next?

I walked into the kitchen to cut up an apple for a snack for my trip and, all of a sudden, a huge mama spider floats down a single line from the ceiling above the stove and parks herself right in front of my eyes, not even a foot away. Such a startling moment! Instantly, I was galvanized; whatever bleariness I had been entertaining vanished, right then, in that split second. I was so so so grateful! Grabbed a paper towel and carefully enclosed her, went out to the dark porch, and freed her off the side into the wild.

And then went to this machine and googled “spider symbolism” deciding to take to heart the first thing that came up. This did:

She even looked like the spider pictured, sort of stripey. Those three words: MYSTERY, POWER, AND GROWTH. I took them to heart, took them into my heart, which expanded to infinity, shedding a web of light fibers out to embrace, enclose and protect the space I would travel within.

If this sounds woo-woo, it was. Decidedly so. And it got me sailing through that day.

So finally, there I was, 13 hours later, sitting in the shade at the registration table at the Permaculture Convergence, waiting for them to find the man in charge, so that I could make sure the venue for my talk tomorrow (today, 9:30 AM PDT this morning) had a screen set-up for a slide show. Because that’s what I got, what I brought, stories, prompted by 144 slides of what has now evolved into GAPV, or Green Acres Permaculture Village from its start way back in 2009 with permaculture workshops at the GANG (Green Acres Neighborhood Garden).

That done, I wandered around for awhile, took a few pics of the natural building projects that dot the landscape of this place —


— and then ducked back under 101 to the parking lot and drove 12 miles to Ukiah and the Days Inn. (Young ones camp at the site.)

Then I did a really stupid thing: decided to walk, rather than drive, down the busy street I came in on to a supermarket that I happened to glance at on the way in, thinking it to be two blocks away. Hot out. Like 90°, but NOT midwest humid. Down past the ammo stores, the security company, the Democratic headquarters (!), the Ukiah Housing Authority, the Goodwill, to the Grocery Outlet Bargain Mart, and boy they aren’t kidding! And much of it organic! Mostly Mexican looking shoppers, everybody kind-faced, though worn down looking, and shopping at their locally-owned place. YES!

All through the trip, I kept having encounters with strangers, strong encounters, positive and intense. The woman on the shuttle bus with me to the Payless rental car place. She is a single mom of one son, whom she had at 39! — the age of the Uranus opposition! where those who choose to follow their destiny suddenly, shockingly, enter a new stage in life! — and is coming for one day to his Stanford orientation, after having sacrificed everything for him, and she is so proud! Showed me his picture. A beaming dark-skinned, round-faced boy, “hard-worker,” she tells me proudly.

I tell her about Crones Counsel, where I will be heading next, this year in Bellingham Washington, suggest she might want to come next year. Ask her age now: 58. I had already told her about the Uranus opposition, so of course I couldn’t resist telling her about the second Saturn return, between 58 and 60, when on an archetypal level, the female transforms once again, from Maiden (up to age 30), to Mother (to age 60), to CRONE! The wise woman of the culture, the stage that has been missing.

I had offered my place in line at the Payless counter to let her go first, since she is anxious to get to Palo Alto for those precious 24 hours with her son. So next in line, my turn; — where I had another intense conversation, this one with a young man from the Phillipines who asked me what I was doing there, and I told him about the Permaculture Convergence and he got VERY excited. Said he’d already had several young people go through the line who were headed there. Told me that he had been a vegan for the past year, despite living in his culture that loves to eat meat, principally pork, he says, and is feeling much better. That he never gets sick anymore! That led to the Green Acres Permaculture Village, my talk at the upcoming Convergence, and he got excited again, thinking of living in community on the land, working with the land, learning from the land.

Oh my! And those were just two of many encounters. The journey itself MYSTERY. The encounters POWER-ful, the the result, GROWTH, for me and others.

As I’ve said for many years, everything we do is an excuse for relationship. Yes. Everything we do here on this good earth is an excuse, for relationship with Her, and her Earthlings, including   humans and spiders. We are so blessed.

Oh BTW: I can’t forget to tell you this. One of my mentors from afar, Joanna Macy, I discovered on my dusty walk into the Convergence (yes, we do duck under highway 101 from a parking lot to get there), turns out to be living in a situation much like ours here in Green Acres Village. I discover this from the young woman walking with me. It’s called Canticle Farm, and it’s square in the middle of Oakland. Their motto: One Heart, One Home, One Block at a Time. YES!

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Autumn Equinox: Let us balance ourselves, as we head into darkness

Autumn Equinox, when the day and the night pause, for one brief and shining moment, as equals, before Sun, for the next three months, in the northern hemisphere, continues to rise later and later and further and further south in the eastern sky and then, in the evening, set earlier and earlier and further and further south in the western sky. The increasing darkness comes, on little cat feet, and catches us unawares. I had no idea my own shadow was so large, so monumental!

What can I do? If ever there was a time when balance between two “opposing” forces was required, it is now. Now, when this country is so divided as to be nearly fatally split in two, with then each wing itself splitting in two, and so forth, a forever fracturing into miniscule bits and pieces that leaves us all stunned. That people in the public eye should be so mean to one another! That people in private should find themselves fighting, arguing, and/or slinking off in despair, pretending it’s not happening, no it’s not, it’s not, it can’t be, can it?

Once again, I’m astonished at how President Trump continues to either absorb or deflect (which is it? I have no idea!) all the negativity that comes at him while appearing to stick steadfastly to the Q plan of most likely seasoned military intelligence which, astonishingly enough, seems to have given us a clue way back in April as to when the long awaited FISA Declassification MOAB would be unleashed, yes on Emmy awards night, a “red carpet” night, a “carpet bomb” which, of course, wouldn’t you know, was timed to happen on September 17th: “Q” — the 17th letter of the alphabet.

And amidst all the horrific furor that of course has erupted since this announcement, check out President Trump’s instant, full-hearted generousity today with a little boy who asked for a hug.

This man, who so many think is crazy, is to me, more balanced than most. He can take it all in (or deflect it all) while continuing to press forward, inch by inch, into the teeth of this massive revolutionary Storm, bolstered by us, we who refuse the continuous incitements to acrimonious division: WWG1WGA. Yes, let us dismantle the Deep State while we give each other hugs. Both. In balance.

Meanwhile, check out the chart for this Autumn Equinox:


First of all notice that in this chart, Venus at 7° Scorpio, squares Mars at 3° Aquarius and opposes the long-running Uranus in early Taurus. Are we surprised that the balance between male Mars and female Venus is more than unusually fraught, indeed, so wildly out of kilter, and showing up so publically, via the Kavanaugh/accuser drama?

The equinoctal Sun itself happens to be in one of those configurations that I call “Triangles of Continuous Growth” — featuring friction (90°), modified into harmony (120°), through continuous adjustment (150°). This triangle links Sun/Mercury at 0°-1° Libra by harmonious trine to a potent Lilith/Mars/ South Node conjunction at the end of Capricorn and beginning of Aquarius, while that conjunction makes a potent, furious square to Uranus, and Uranus itself asks for subtle continuous adjustments via its inconjunct with Sun/Mercury.

So. Sun/Mercury balancing in Libra, working very well with the courageous, ancient warrior energy of Mars/Lilith/South Node, which itself is pummeling and being pummeled by, earthy, congealed, habit-bound Taurus, activated since early May by Uranus into magma flows, earthquakes, hurricanes and other eruptions, not just telluric but political; and all the while, that Equinoctal Sun/Mercury is balancing, adjusting, working with the ups and downs and ins and outs of whatever comes to pass.

May your Equinox moment powerfully inhabit this potent triangle of continuous growth in your life! Above all, notice the shadow, the mean part of yourself, the part that hates (projects) or fears (introjects) something outside, without realizing that it is inside. Our shadows are inside us, and they are extremely active during this time of balancing; and, given that we are now heading into the shadowy darkness, do not expect enlightenment any time soon! These next three months are apt to be climactic in many ways.

I cannot help but recall what the inner voice told me way back when I was 26 years old and not sure that I could go on, so much had my own shadow erupted: “JUST KEEP GOING. DON’T GET STUCK.”

Yes, let’s just keep going, balancing, absorbing, letting go, moving through and down and out and into whatever darkness arises, because indeed it will, and you can bet that both its nature and implications will be way beyond our wildest imagination.

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Green Acres Village, Mid-September: 4 EVENTS, 25 PHOTOS

Gate, as Autumn draws near . . .

In order to clear the decks before my upcoming road trip, I decided to make one looooong GAPV post, that will catch up, believe it or not, only the past five days.

BTW: I realize that it appears that we are either always working or always socializing, but that’s not the half of it. Most of us lead busy lives otherwise as well, whether as students, or solitary blogger (like me), or working part-time as Lyft driver, restaurant chef, librarian, garden work, body work, and then some. But I DO take photos at “events.” Here goes, Just since last Thursday’s Community Dinner, which, despite mosquitos, we were able to hold outside on the patio, thanks to fans and torches.

Thursday: Community Dinner


Friday: CSA Harvest and Distribution

This time, Solan picked squashes, peppers, tomatoes and onions prior to his leaving for the weekend. He also made tinctures, and Rebecca made tea. Rebecca had to work as a Lyft driver, and Dan decided he needed to take a strategic nap. date. Soooo . . . That left me and Alex to clean the veggies, add flowers and get the bags ready. Except for the drat onions that take forever to wash, ’twas no biggie. Done in 45 minutes.



This semester, thanks to Solan’s initiative, we are partnering with Heather Reynolds, Associate Professor in the IU Biology Department, for interns in her course called

We are taking on two groups of four students each, for projects involving 1) Marketing GAPV to IU students (with Gabby in the lead here), and 2) Biodiversity in the GAV gardens (with me, and when I’m gone, Solan in the lead here). The course requires them to do five hours each of service to the GAPV, as well as completing their project for the course.

We’ve had lots of interns through this place, and they’re usually either okay or terrific. The eight we have now are uniformly terrific! Professor Reynolds attracts students who love Nature. YES!

Gabby’s four students came for the first time the Sunday before this last one, two at 11 am and the other two at 1 p.m. Mine didn’t get going until this past Saturday, when Miriam and Hannah arrived. I had decided that we would “weed” the outside corner of DeKist/Overhill. And especially, we needed to finishing paring way back a bush that had gotten entirely out of control. So we did that, and in the process discovered a wonderful surprise. Here goes:

Saturday and Monday mornings, with Interns

Miriam on the left, Hannah on the right, both barely visible . . .


Gradually, the bush gets cleared away . . .

Notice the growing pile on the street . . . 

. . . until it reveals a hidden Huckleberry sapling. Yes!


Then, on Monday morning, Emily came for her first service-learning hours. (Oops! Where’s Marlee?) This time we worked on the inside of the same outside fence, digging up extremely entrenched poke roots (I had cut a giant poke plant back during our Saturday work party, which had revealed winter squashes we didn’t know were there).

So Emily set to work; and after about 20 minutes of hard continuous digging, came up with her first root (this particular poke plant had many roots, branching down and out from one another, as we discovered).

About then, podmate Justin had arrived, and decided to dig, too. Soon we had three shovels, all focused on that powerful place.

Finally, aha!

But the root was in no way done. Nor was Justin, a determined Taurus. I bet he dug down three and a half feet before the final root yielded to his tenacity.

Then, quick! He had to stop, hope on his bike, and ride to class.

At about the time we were done, another endeavor was just gearing up:

Saturday morning: Step One, The Garage Project

This garage, attached to the second DeKist house, has been the focus of constant visioning (what are we going to do with it! That’s coming clear, but we don’t want to speak of it yet) and, it turns out, filling up. With stuff, lots of stuff. It was time to take it out. Rebecca in the lead.

Notice the trailer, filled with the results of recent digging, pruning . . .

Where did THIS come from?

Oh wow, is it done?

Rebecca: “No, but I can handle the rest of it.”

Which, finally, brings us to the end of this post. Just in time for the next Community Dinner, to be held Thursday, as usual, with Gabby and her housemates in the lead to create our annual Autumn Equinox Ceremony, which honors the balancing acts in all our lives and in the life of our beloved Mother Earth.

The now empty patio awaits.

Meanwhile, don’t bonk your heads on the gigantic hanging squashes on the way in! (Especially that one on the right; only barely visible here, it hangs the lowest . . .)

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Two week road trip just ahead: 9/20 through 10/3

The first day of a road trip is always the hardest, to wit:

At 3:30 AM this Thursday morning, dear podmate Rebecca will drive me one hour to the Indy airport, where I will fly four hours to San Francisco where, in a totally ungrounded state, I will rent a car and, while getting used to the car, somehow manage to drive north through Bay Area traffic to Hopland, California, and the 2018 NORCAL Permaculture Convergence at the Solar Living Institute. I should be there by noon PDT.


This year the theme of the convergence is to be Permaculture and Community Resilience. Perfect! The very next day, Friday morning, September 21, at 9:30 AM (not the Equinox this year, that’s the next day), I will present a slide show with commentary on the Origins and evolution of Green Acres Permaculture Village.

I will then spend the rest of this coming weekend milling around with other starry-eyed idealists and ecstatic dirt farmers, have fun absorbing all sorts of ideas, and even meet up Saturday evening with Anthony, who is driving three hours to be there in time to join me for dinner. A frequent commentator on this blog, Anthony recently gifted the GAPV with a dozen organite pucks, which I have placed in various (winter) gardens, including two of the Garden Towers. It will be interesting to see if they help plant growth and even discourage pests!

But this NORCAL event is actually an afterthought. My original plan was to attend this year’s 26th annual Crones Counsel (September 26-30) which will be in Bellingham, Washington. An annual gathering which I co-founded with Shauna Adix way back in 1992 as an offshoot of Crone Chronicles, I still attend these counsels every few years, because they are so damn much fun — even raunchy! (To me the finest crones carry the Baubo archetype . . .)

And of course, I planned to do a presentation at the Counsel on GAPV, as an inspiration to all the older women who find themselves living alone, feeling useless, more and more habit-bound and, basically, waiting to die. If there’s one thing that’s guaranteed to pull you out of your tight little calcified lifestyle box, it’s intergenerational living, as we demonstrate here.

So, I had already planned to present there, at the Counsel, a show with 140 slides and stories to accompany them, and then, meanwhile, was invited to present at NORCAL, in California. Hmmm . . . I wondered, when is NORCAL? Aha! September 20-23. The very weekend before! Hmmm. . . oh well, okay, I will do a road trip, from Northern California to Seattle, with, it turns out, a stop along the way at Eureka California to do, not another GAPV presentation, “No I don’t want that,” says my friend Julia, who helped restart the Green Acres Neighborhood Association in which the GAPV is now embedded way back when, but then moved to California: “I want to do a CE-5 event in a nearby field, with my friends.”

Oh? Well, okay. We will wait until dark, then sit in a circle on high-backed, reclining lawn chairs, go into a connected meditative space, and call in friendly visitors to communicate with us. Here in Central Indiana, such loving call-outs  routinely result in heavenly flashes, some of them strong, prolonged and/or repeated.

Such a spread, between doing two (actually three, another one at a suburban church in Seattle after the Counsel) presentations on a very grounded project, GAPV, and, on the other hand, opening with CE-5 to the heavens above — is a stunning illustration of this blog’s motto, Bridging and Blending Above and Below.

This trip is sponsored by a 501c3, the Association for Regenerative Culture (ARC). Thank you! And thank all the gods, goddesses, and guides, for the exquisite timing that will allow me to venture on yet another Sagittarian road trip.


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MORE SIGNS OF THE TIMES: — and timing is everything!

I fly to the west coast on Thursday, September 20, which happens to be the date for which the much anticipated Test for the Presidential Emergency Alert was originally planned. And of course, even though I tend to think all will be well, no matter what, I was a bit concerned. I’m gone, and on the road, for two weeks. What will go on meanwhile?

More on my trip tomorrow.

So then, when the test was postponed, from the day I leave to the day I return, I had to laugh. Same issue, a bit of nervousness, despite my all will be well mantra. Only postponed. At least I’ll be turned toward home on that day.

Test of Presidential Emergency Alert Postponed to Oct. 3

Meanwhile, on this day, September 17, 2018, we should have known that Trump would pick Q’s gematria number day to issue the long-anticipated orders to release the FISA docs unredacted. YES!

Statement from the Press Secretary

As Q says, once again, “Do you believe in coincidences?”

Here’s a truepundit analysis.

Trump just dropped the big one on DOJ and FBI: An unprecedented show of muscle from the White House

And finally, in a final example of timing, and the laugh that snorted from me when I came across this on a social media site this morning: Buddha statue makes “white power” hand signal: Yeah, right . . .

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SIGNS OF THE TIMES: Nuke plant threatened?, Solar observatory reopens? Kavanaugh bad blood? and best of all: General Flynn, on the Q-army

North Carolina nuclear power plant declares “unusual event” following storm, “hot shutdown”

Aliens or solar flare? Questions remain as Sunspot Observatory Partially Re-Opens

Bad Blood: Judge Kavanaugh’s Mother Foreclosed on Far Left Accuser’s Parents’ Home

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