An urban micro farm experiment. Adventures in trying to live a simple life.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Not enough minutes in the day.
Another day of toiling in the hot sun finishing up that door and lawn mowing. I don't have a new photo of the garden so I decided to take a photo of what I'm looking at and see where I end up if I write about it. If this is any indication of evaluating my goal in life, I think I'm close to achieving it. What I want to do is to have an interesting scene or set, as in theater set, everywhere I look at home. Inside and outside. What I've come to believe is that a person can eat on a cheap plate made in China or you can find a vintage 1920 plate made in England and elevate your toasted cheese sandwich to the level of a gourmet meal. It's all in the details. Why eat on junk when you can go to Goodwill and find a piece of history to eat on for $.99? And that is my philosophy. Why should I look at a rocking chair that has been in my family since the 1920s when I can look at that chair with a mink collar and a leopard skin muff and collar draped over it? The clock that is in the photograph is from my father. He had it cleaned and fixed up for me. It has been wound (even if it chimes at odd times) every day. I have only let it lapse a few times since he gave it to me. My dad would love my little house. It's too bad that I never returned to a state of happiness while he was alive. Darn.
In historical order: printmaker, typographer, graphic designer, semi-professional handbell musician, radical minimalist and self-sustaining urban micro farmer and a collector of mid-century objects d'art.
The question is: can I turn the backyard of my home into an urban micro farm?
The verdict is still to come but through much planning, hard work and blissful ignorance, it definitely seems like a good possibility!
2009 was the official start of Daisy Farm.
The purpose of this blog is to serve as my written record of how things are going, a little history and perhaps some miscellaneous ramblings that might crop up while I'm waiting for something else to do in the garden.