There have been whispers of late at Jewel Street Paradise. Questions mostly, perhaps head shaking but certainly what seems to me like a quiet disdain. Maybe it was the rabbits, perhaps the worm bin and bales of hay in the basement. Perhaps it was the round of questioning from me regarding the homemade detergent that I thought had disappeared (it was only moved, my fault)... whatever it was, it seems that I've finally reached a point where the people I share a house with no longer completely understand my motivation to live a certain way. Beekeeping, raising livestock, gardening and self-sufficiency are usually done in roomy locales for good reason. I've done the best job I can to be conscientious, cleaning up the bits of straw that find their way to everywhere and tidying the yard on a daily basis, but what I see as perfection is seen as a blight by others. But the road goes both ways. I see grotesqueness where others see beauty, too.

And you know what-- that's ok. I've never wanted any of this to be a situation where people are expected bend to my ideologies or adapt to my lifestyle. Of course you sort of hope that it inspires people and they want to be part of it, but the truth is, not everyone's head is in the same place as mine. Some people just want things simple, uncomplicated. Everything in it's correct place so it needn't be worried about. When many people share that place, you've got to contend with the fact that little annoyances will mount up and become big problems in our minds, disrupting the flow of normal day-to-day thought. I've been on the other side of things, getting miffed over people making noise or not composting "right" or fussing with my laundry. None of them being particularly serious issues, but I let them get to me and they taint my experience of home. That's on me. I can't let resentment take me. None of us should allow it. It's a big challenge but simply, it's part of the deal when you live here. You just have to adjust to being around people, with all of their greatness and foibles, constantly.

Five years into living in Brooklyn and I am just starting to truly understand what that means. You are never really alone. Not everyone wants beer bottles and brewing equipment taking up living space. Not everyone finds the smell of a smoldering smoker romantic. Not everyone wants to wake to the sound of a chicken celebrating their daily egg. A few of us revel in it. But many do not. You've got to think about these things constantly if you want to get along.

But I won't complain, I've been very fortunate. I butt heads with the people I live with seldomly, and never to any extreme. They are all very accommodating and for their part they seem to enjoy some aspects of our little urban homestead. If they are put off by something, I am usually pretty good about reading between the lines and trying to improve the situation. I do the best I can. I want everyone to be happy. I want to be happy. It is our home. Sometimes I think it's all we've got.

I should thank my neighbors more often. I think that if they knew that I appreciated them for what they do and don't do perhaps they would simply say to themselves "Oh, that crazy Meg!" (I don't think of myself as crazy) when I bring home donated bus tubs of insect larvae for the chickens or a leaking bag of spent grains instead of possibly silently resenting it. After all, it's in part because of them that all of it is what it is.

What is "it"? It is home and we share it. It needs protecting too, even if it is from myself. We all look to this place as a sanctuary and it is so needed. I've got to figure out how to keep everyone happy, without having to sacrifice my way of life. If I don't have this, I don't have anything.

Regarding a sense of home, Jenna writes in a recent post on my favoritest blog in the whole world, Cold Antler Farm:

"Those of you who have been reading this blog a while know how much I admire and look up to the work of Polyface Farm, a beyond-organic farm in Virginia. While at the Mother Earth News Fair I got to hear the honcho of that operation talk, a charismatic fellow by the name of Joel Salatin. He does many speaking gigs like this all around America, and when I sat down to hear him in Pennsylvania I didn't get what I expected. While there was plenty of talk about agriculture, it was really more about our personal culture, and I took one main thing away from his talk.

Home.

Joel pointed out that one of the largest problems with our culture, health, and community is how our houses (specially our kitchens) have gone from the center of our lives to a boarding house we sleep and eat at. Home has faded into lazy nostalgia, we're remember a place we no longer actually practice. There are people who pay every month to live there, hire someone else to mow and clean it, and unless we are asleep or grabbing a Pop Tart out of the toaster: they aren't there very often. Even weekends are dedicated to hitting the road to shop and go to soccer practice. Some people claim they could not even fathom spending an entire weekend at home: their children would go nuts without activities and events and play dates. Others without kids just find their homes boring, a place that is shut off from the world. They don't want to stay home because, even as I type this, I feel like the words "stay home" are a stick-in-the-mud's anthem..."

To read the rest of the post, click away. She's a really gifted writer who is living the dream, as far as I am concerned.

(Aaaagggghhh!)

I need some contributors! I'm crazy busy for the next couple of months with class prep and paying writing gigs and I would love it if anyone out there would like to contribute any beekeeping, canning, animal husbandry, home brewing, pickling, whatevah-whatevah content. I'll kiss yr butt. Or give you some eggs and honey or something. Please, just do me a solid. I don't want this blog to be just about me. I'm boring.

So, if you are reading this and have got some fun urban-homesteader-y stuff going on and have a basic understanding of the English language and how computers "go" GET AT ME!

<3M

If you are reading this right now, you've probably gathered as much. I live in Brooklyn, grow vegetables, fruits, keep bees on my rooftop and raise a small flock of hens for eggs. I compost, grow mushrooms, make pickles and can, organize meat shares from local farms with my neighbors and food swaps with my community members. It's a way of life that places emphasis on self-reliance but more importantly it exemplifies a true sense of community and the spirit of generosity.

There is a family in California who apparently doesn't see that side of the movement and has trademarked the terms "Urban Homesteading", "Urban Homestead" and "Freedom Gardens" among others. Boy, howdy are urban gardeners, livestock enthusiasts, beekeepers, home-cooks and farmers across the land PISSED! Letters similar to "cease & desist" have been circulated to organizations, bloggers and writers forcing them to remove those terms from their work and have even suggested alternative nomenclature (Ballsy!). A simple google search might help you locate it. It's shocking and sad and negates all of the good work this family has done.

If this seems ridiculous to you and you want to find ways to fight this trademark, join the Facebook page Take Back Urban Home-steading.

I also encourage folks that are moved to act against these trademarks to do so in a mature and constructive matter. Name-calling, shit-slinging and threats are unnecessary so just don't do it.

That being said, let's take it back! "Urban Homesteading" for ALL!

<3 M

Can you guess what they are?

Entries about both soon to follow!

<3 M