Urban Plants

Chicago hasn't aesthetically looked like an urban place to me despite living here for about two and a half years.  But I've picked up a few things:

Chicago houses might be narrow, but they're long - and they go pretty far back.

An urban area that has lots of trees feels a lot less like an urban area. Andersonville has always felt a bit more friendly than the Loop because of this. Green instead of concrete just feels a bit better (although I'm sure the Loop would test out green painted concrete as a short term solution to please residents down there.

Sometimes you're just getting accustomed to an urban place so you notice the endless rows of houses more.

So, while taking pictures of the kitchen plants to keep on file and document their growth, I noticed that I truly do live in an urban area. Maybe I was just ignoring it, or comparing little Andersonville to Brooklyn, in which Brooklyn looks like the massive stone giant.

Urban Jade
Crassula ovata

Clapping Hands (or Bunny Ears)
Opuntia microdsys

Spider Plant
Chlorophytum comosum

Cactus Rock looking over the houses.

The lone star Cactus Rock.

Ivy Unwinding

Urban Crown of Thorns
Euphorbia Milii

Crown of Thorns Budding
Euphorbia Milii

All Plants on Deck!

Well, the cold ones at least. Today I planted some cold vegetables as it is the season. And it's fun to do new things and I've never grown anything cold.

It's pretty up and down weather wise here in Chicago. Last week we had nearly 80 degree days, nearly every day. Chicago's become so spoiled and now we're expecting the temperature to hover at around 40 degrees at night. That's pretty cold after some nice, sunny days.

But that's how Chicago rolls: it builds up your spirits only to crush them. How we carry on here!

With cold weather comes cold growing vegetables. The plants on the list purchased today were:

• Kale
• Broccoli
• Buttercrunch lettuce
• Romaine lettuce 

We initially bought chives but had a bit of a roly-poly (pill bug, or Armadillidum vulgare) problem, which as it turns out, are pretty good and nearly harmless. They excrete nitrogen into the soil; hey, that's awesome. But they like to eat dead plant matter, which I'm expecting a lot of. And when you watch 10 fall out of the cup and then see at least five more all wedged up near the roots, you just have to wonder if you'll have an infestation. After all, the chives were to go into the earth box: a plastic box that's kept really moist and pretty dark.

That, to me, is just begging for an infestation of pill bugs. A quick did you know fact: they're more closely related to crabs than they are to insects. Weird.

The earth box planting went off without a hitch. We didn't re-use our soil and we didn't buy a replacement kit. We just used the same Happy Frog fertilizer (it's organic!) that we used last year and bought Baccto potting mix. 

These guys look a little sad, but I'm expecting them to beef up as the spring rolls on. At least we won't be short of salad this summer. 

I'm excited to see what will come of this. I hear Kale is super good for you (high in beta carotene, vitamin K, vitamin C, calcium and more) and I want to start eating healthier and not have to buy produce packed with pesticides and junk like that. 

And hey, it's good to be back writing on this blog.

Till next time, ya'll.

-RC

The Movement that Mass Media, in Alliance with the Corporate World, Spoon Fed Consumers

Some of you readers may become extremely irritated with my new post today.  And while I feel this green, organic subject is important, I also feel as though a sliver, a tiny sliver, needs to be cracked.  I did intend to research this topic throughly, but alas, a Google search did not yield many results (much like my vegetables at this point).
The green, organic movement has picked up speed in Chicago.  The movement is becoming a whirlwind, exciting the most skeptical individuals, seducing them to minimize their carbon foot print by offering them completely green, organic fruits, vegetables, cars, paper, clothing, yarn, and, well, nearly everything else that you could think.  Probably even rubber!  Or styrofoam! Before I knew it, a surplus of Chicagoans were totting around their little reusable tote bags with a smug look on their face when they saw me walk out of the supermarket with four plastic bags, and sometimes, it's hard to believe, double plastic for the safe sturdiness that my gallon of milk won't fall on the ground because, simply, milk is cold to carry for eight blocks!


I mean, at least I walk everywhere and use transportation, right?


Try telling the above comment to some of those green bikers in Chicago.  They'll just stare at you with a slacked jaw, shaking their heads, ranting about how the transit system in Chicago is still using up too much oil. But, hey there biker, where do you think that crude asphalt comes from which allows you to bike smoothly in the city?  I mean, at least you're not paying $2.25 per ride to use up some oil.


At least, then, buying some organic yarns or clothes shouldn't be too expensive, right?  I mean, I do want to help out the Earth and Nature, hell, also hard working individuals in my own country and not some innocent child half way across the world who'll lose a finger or two in those sewing machines.  Go ahead, try walking into an organic clothing store in Chicago and show me a decent price.  Chances are, the lowest will be around $245.


So, why would I want to pay over two hundred dollars for a pair of organic cotton jeans?  Because of the green guilt that has slowly seeped into my brain like some sort of mutant ooze.  It just doesn't die.  If one were to go looking for the host, one would have to travel on a far and complex journey, which, for the record, would probably be full of grosser, meaner monsters than those ever found in Tolkin's Middle Earth, or Where the Wild Things Are.  Finally stumbling upon the host, one would look up in horror just to find that it's been the Media all along.


Stephen T. Asma writes: "Pointing out these parallels is not meant to diminish the environmental cause. We should indeed do the things in our power, and within reason, to sustain the planet. But we have a tendency to become neurotic and overly anxious, especially when we are regularly told, via green marketing ploys, that each one of us is responsible for the survival of the planet. That's a heavy guilt trip."


Right on, Mr. Asma!  You write the way it should be written: with green marketing ploys written all over this green guilt that's been shoved down my throat all day.  This guilt doesn't just happen with commercials, but with people, too!  I've known one too many Chicagoans who have smugly boasted about this "great little shop that's all organic," or "my new hat is awesome because it's all organic cotton and it was only $70, I mean, what a steal!"  What a steal, indeed, my fellow friend.  What a steal.


The main problem I have with green guilt is this: when I walk into "organic" shops, whether they be huge like Whole Foods, or tiny and intimate like Green Grocer, the over priced items leap out at me first.  Then, when the shock subsides, the recognition that fruit is being shipped from across the world in the middle of winter slowly illuminates me and suddenly, a revelation: how are they being so green and organic by shipping food half way across the world in winter?


Then again, perhaps I am a part of the problem as well for intermingling the words organic and green.  Surely a organic certified food product, which must be 95% organic, does not necessarily mean that it is green, which would be defined as "earth friendly" and using less "carbon foot prints."  Because, well, organic fruit that is flown in to a wintry Whole Foods from Brazil must have used quite a lot of fuel.


Readers, all of you are consumers, will be consumers, and have been consumers.  I just urge us all to be smart shoppers with a critical eye everywhere.  Let's do our research first (like I should have for this post) before leaping in to some guilt that the mass media in alliance with the corporate world has spoon fed us.  Surely we can save the Earth and Nature, but in ways that we feel comfortable with and that are within our means as consumers.  Let's preach about saving the environment and going green within first, because, after all, we have to watch out for ourselves first before we can change anything.  

Euphorbia Milii Budding Two Buds

Today I sat on the deck reading Jude the Obscure, engulfed in that wayward confusingly changing time period from Victorian to Modern and listening to birds sweetly singing on telephone wires, more alive than I could ever be sitting in 90 degrees.


So I thought I'd take pictures of Crown of Thorns.

Crown of Thorns is one of the only plants that blooms year-round if you gave them the proper care.  The flowers, while beautiful, eventually whither up and fall. Legend has it that the crown from this plant were used in the crucifixion of Jesus. 

The "Restoration" of Chicago's Nature

This post, which may, or may not turn out to be a rant, was inspired by Growing in Chicago


The city of Chicago has a great habit of "restoring" wetlands when the land wasn't wet, when wild lands, and what few trees, in pre-industrial days were the natural skyscrapers.  Take this "restoration" for example.  Blogger Beth Botts recounts a harrowing tale of how the Army Corps of Engineers tried to "restore" Washington Park to its natural "wetland."     

Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

Fredrick Law Olmsted, the parks' creator, first saw a flat field void of trees.  His initial plans included adding some trees surrounded by a meadow, even inviting sheep to graze, which, if the grass is natural prairie Switchgrass, ends up being more beneficial to not only the sheep, but also the grass.  Grazing sheep help spread the seeds of Switchgrass, and without this natural animal grazing, the prairie needs to undergo a controlled fire.  I'm sure that in the late 19th century, Chicagoans were frightened by even the thought of fire.


Paul Cornell, who was most likely a money hungry, corporate leech, strongly "encouraged" Olmsted to include some sporting areas, because somehow it's better to sport next to a meadow.  Oh, I'm sure Cornell had every intention of either making this park only accessable to the elite or by charging a fee, but we won't mention or talk of this.  (It's not even like any of this has any claim, I'm just assuming that anyone who wants to turn a park into a sporting area has to be in it for the money).  


Here's an old picture of Washington Park, once again, by way of Wikipedia.

Thus, this creation mythology of how Washington Park is a natural wetland is born.  I'm all for parks being restored, but how about bringing in some trained professionals and actually restoring the land to its original habitat?  I mean, Switchgrass isn't that ugly and boring to look at.  Panicum virgatum is being used as a renewable energy and all those great native animals feed on the plant.  It's not just Switchgrass either, but the other hundreds of different varieties of tall-grass prairie.  If we would only look at the natural grasses that once flourished on our land, we would see the beauty (and deer!).  

Less than 0.01% of tall-grass prairie remains in the Midwest, and hey, that's where the tall-grass prairies grow.  Along with demise of the tall-grass prairie were buffalo, rabbits, deer, and elk.  Insects and bees left, too.  Let's also not mention how many awesome, cute little birds must have been affected as well.  It's sad, and a shame that we, as humble, humane people who constantly boast about being "green," treat our land, our nature, our provider.  

No wonder some people say we're doomed.  Perhaps we're not though.  No, surely we're not.  If only we would all take heed from this warning, this seemingly insignificant warning, and pay attention to nature, even if only for a mere five minutes.  We can learn something about the past, the land, about ourselves.  

A Polka Plant that Once Was: Hypoestes phyllostachya

Unfortunately, plants come and go, as is the cycle of nature, right?  Sometimes, though, it's not the cold, harsh weather that decides to eliminate a plant, nor the overshadowing of a bigger plant that towers over a young seedling.  I will admit that I had, and still have problems cutting back on plants.


Some plants that look so pristine sitting in their nice little pot burst into monstrous, leggy beings.  They start to grow all lopsided, awkwardly growing too far up with little bushiness. 


Poor Polka Dot.  He once, I swear, was healthy.

I was enthralled by his bright varieties of crimson red splashed throughout the pale pink and blood red leaves.  He was a perfect addition to the sunny window ledge.  I even bought him a special pot.


Polka grew fast and strong the few short months he was with me.  

A monster of a plant who couldn't grow just right.  

Boston Fern Who Sat on the Fence for a While and Finally Made a Decision

I think, sometimes, that plants must have a challenging time becoming accustomed to a new setting, in a new house, with new rules and regulations.  Perhaps they even face humility looking so desolate in the face of new care takers with his four shabby leaves. Poor plants from Jewel.

All winter he was looking bad.  His home was over on the "other ledge." When he grew, he dropped his older leaves.  


So I let Jewels be.  I let him rest.  I let him compile his energy.  

What we can all become if we were just given the opportunity and time.  Of course, I haven't made any grave mistakes with him as of yet, but, who knows - maybe that will come in the future.