CSAs in Madison, WI

May was my month to discover the world of Community Supported Agriculture, and Madison, WI, is full of amazing farms and programs to choose from. Starting with an amazing introductory fair at our convention center to advertisements in newspapers (with grids describing possible plans, included vegetables, timelines, etc.), I found a vibrant community. The topic of "Which CSA are you going to select?" was on the tip of everyone's tongue this month and last. And, starting two weeks ago, the produce started flowing from the CSA share that myself and three friends shared. I would give you more details, pictures, favorite vegetables, and more, but I am busy trying to sort through on-line recipes and whipping up delicious recipes as we speak. More later? Ahhh, that is what My Year Of Plants is for. As with prior months, please stay tuned!

The (Potential) Vegetable Garden

My childhood memories of working in either my mother’s or my grandmother’s vegetable gardens include abundant green and hyper-productive plants. Eden, essentially. The picture below (#1), taken when I was less than one year old symbolizes all of that perfectly: working hard, smiling, large plants everywhere, the assumed overflowing salad bowl not far away. Well, with my new house and empty palate in the backyard, my memory is meeting head on with stark reality: it’s not as easy as I thought. Yes, yes, I could have planned better. I know, I should have read more and laid out a grid, started plants indoors, called experts, interviewed “green thumbs” and cataloged success stories. The bottom line is that I am hoping that millions of years of evolution (plants know how to grow, don’t they?) and Mother Nature come to my rescue. At times I had to act quickly: a cousin gave me pre-soaked bean seeds, so that day I had to put them in the ground somewhere. I removed a swath of sod and sowed my first veggies. Then, miraculously and counter to all of the pundits, they sprouted, necessitating my immediate need to build a fence to fend off the million or so fat rabbits that I see grazing the neighborhood (picture #2_. Other times my garden approach has been merely opportunistic. I had basil seeds, why don’t I start them indoors? No success yet (picture #3). Then a neighbor offered to rototill my plot. I accepted. Another expert gardening friend offered, in the form of handmade coupons, free labor and advice. Again, I accepted. So, like I said, I think that there is a potential vegetable garden in the works!

A Spring ritual: Maple syrup making

It’s definitely that time of year. A Spring rite of passage. I can remember traipsing around the northwoods with my grandfather, looking for pails full of maple sap hanging from trees scattered around his and his neighbors’ property. It was fun for a kid, a bit of a treasure hunt looking for the fullest pail. And, the whole process was full of magic. Grandpa had me taste the sap once, and it tasted like water, perhaps with a “natural” overtone; I can only imagine the sap-tasting cheat sheet, fashioned after wine connoisseurs, and what it might say: “watery”, “light twig aftertaste”, “very watery.” Then, bringing the pails back to the boiler for evaporation, the stoking of the fire, the smoke, the heat, and voilà, thick, brown, sweeter than sweet, syrup trickles into the cool little glass bottles. Nature’s Magic Brew. I loved it.

So, of course, come 2012, maple syrup making, or “sugaring”, would be part of My Year of Plants. I had some of my grandfather’s equipment, including his old “dipper” and hydrometer, so I wouldn’t be starting from scratch. In addition, we still had most of the same family land up north, and friends on nearby property who were actively involved in the industry, both as a money making venture and hobby. I would have the chance to re-learn a lot.

One problem surfaced. Mother Nature was not in agreement with my 2012 sugaring interests. A bizarre winter, thought to be partly or completely due to a La Niña phenomenon, brought 70, even 80 degree, temperatures in February and March, grinding the sap flow to a halt. Maple syrup making is full of superstition, and daily gossip centers on when and how much the sap will flow, which trees will be the biggest producers, if the syrup will taste good this year, what color it will be, etc. All of these factors are very hard to predict, but some producers develop a knack for reading some of the signs in nature that give them some wisdom in answering these questions. I do not understand many of the relevant variables, but the simple rule, and one which was lacking in this year’s mild temperatures, is that a cold (below freezing) night and subsequent warm (above freezing) day helps the sap to run well. The year 2012 may very well be known as "the year that the sap stayed put."

Hence, some of the commentary on this fascinating art and the photos you will see if you purchase the final book, are from my 2011 sugaring experience. To give you a little taste, picture yourself in an 8x10 foot sap boiling shack, full of steam, about 110 degrees hot, participating in a ritual that predates the arrival of Europeans in North America, and one that continues with almost every pancake, waffle or French toast breakfast!

A winter tonic

I think I probably need a winter tonic. I am sure that I could use extra strength, resistance against disease, a “boost” to my immune system, and overall energy, to paraphrase from some of the accepted definitions of herbal medicine “tonics,” or adaptogens. In all seriousness, I have been intrigued by this genre of plants for some time, ever since reading some convincing basic science research reviews, and learning that many cultures have plants in their repertoire that fit this purpose for the promotion of health and wellness. Recently, I took my interest to the next level by writing two scientific articles about the topic, but it still didn’t feel very close to home, until a conversation I had in August, 2011.

One of my colleagues at the university studies a genus of plants from Europe that has many uses, including as a red wine extract meant to be ingested in small doses during the winter for its tonic effects. My eyebrows perked. I asked her to say more. So, the genus is Juglans, what we know as the black walnut tree in this area, and the species is Juglans regia. The only catch for my quickly forming do-it-yourself plans is that the species in Wisconsin is Juglans nigra. It can’t be THAT different, right? OK, a bit more: in Europe, a specific quantity of the leaves of Juglans regia are placed in a container with red wine (no specific vintage or type mentioned) for a few weeks, and then strained, and stored until needed, which apparently is every day (a small amount) for its health effects. This was going to be fun, but fall was quickly approaching, and I would have to act fast in order to harvest healthy looking specimens for my experiment in winter tonics.

The ensuing process was a fascinating one. From traipsing through the woods on the way to work, filling up plastic bags with the freshest Juglans nigra leaves I could find, to the extraction process (think mad scientist), and then a flurry of emails to herbal medicine experts mixed with my own trolling of the literature to determine whether or not there was any cross-species translocation of winter tonic effects to my local tree. I stumbled upon pitfalls that are probably quite common for those of use trying to use plants for healing, but only having some of the necessary information. It is really not that different from the confused walk down the dietary supplement aisle after a web search of some physical symptoms, or swapping out ingredients when following a complicated recipe and realizing that you’re missing something key. We do the best we can with the information we have plus that added boost from our hope that these plants will be an important part of our life. This is the essence of my blog, and, yes, the book that follows, and I am hoping to fill in the gaps to ensure success in our plant endeavors.

Speaking of the book, we’ve reached the point in this month’s blog where I defer to the subsequent book for the exciting conclusion to the winter tonic experiment. Did it turn out? Was it effective? And, just as important, was it safe? The process, I will argue, is just as important as the outcome, because I want all of us to be able to “access” plants, to add them into our lives when we see an exciting way to do so. This month, for me, it was the winter tonic. For other months, for other people, it might be a different plant or plants. I believe that we can do this, that we can successfully, and safely, weave plants back into our industrialized life, hence “My Year of Plants: A How-To Guide.”

House Plants

As I thought about how to structure My Year of Plants, I realized that I needed some ground rules, pun intended. I considered it the equivalent of the mission statement that companies painstakingly hash out over day(s)-long retreat, followed by guidelines meant to keep me focused on the task at hand. All of this would hopefully maximize learning if not success on each month’s topic. I understood that this may be a work-in-progress, but, nonetheless, in the interest of having some thoughts on paper from the very beginning…

“My Year of Plants” Mission Statement: To investigate all aspects of one plant-based topic monthly, focusing on the improvement of health and an increase of knowledge, skills and connection to plants.

Particulars:
1) One topic per month
2) Emphasize science with practical, easy-to-implement offshoots relevant to our daily lives
3) Provide references for further reading or learning
4) Spend less than $100 monthly in supplies, books, materials relevant to that month’s topic; this needs to be affordable and reasonable for the general population
5) Walk the talk: really work to make that plant topic a part of my life, and share the results. Hopefully this information and experience will help others to do the same and save my readers from having to “reinvent the wheel.”
6) Add media, in the form of video and pictures and links to the internet whenever possible to foster learning and, well, entertainment. This, after all, should be fun to be sustainable in our lives!

With this framework established, let’s launch into January’s topic: HOUSE PLANTS.

The context of this month’s topic is that I had just moved into a new condominium in Madison, WI, and was facing a winter of drab, white snowscape, sans anything green. I wanted that to change. In addition, as you learned in the introductory blog posting, 2011 was the year when I watched the last of my un-killable cacti die a slow, rotting death in the small, cute blue ceramic pot I had received from someone likely trying their best to “liven” up my place with a little bit of greenery.

Shortly after the thought of increasing the number of my house plants from “zero” to “something other than zero,” I passed off laudatory comments to a friend about his thriving indoor garden, which led to the generous gift of several starts, including pieces of jade that would “grow simply by placing it on moist soil” and some unnamed plant that is “taking over the southwest” because it is so precocious.

I transported home these plant pieces in folded paper and geared up for the big planting the following day. But, what to plant them in? My friend had some opinions about soil type, but he seemed flexible about that variable in the description of his house plant success. I would see if I could get something free from nature or, more likely, a family member. Heck, as much as it takes a community to raise a child, perhaps the same would be said for our plants and their role in our lives. I would look around for help from the very beginning.

The bottom line is that donations poured in, providing me with pots and potting soil, and the resulting triad of soon-to-be-jungle botanical starts pictured here. This, I realized, was only the beginning. With the foundation in place, now the real work would begin. Let’s assume I am able to let most of my plants grow, thrive, and achieve their potential as the evolutionary success stories that they are, the more compelling questions to be answered centered around the types of plants that were “best” for us and our indoor dwellings. As a physician, I am most interested in health and healing, so are there some plants better for us, healthier for us, more suited for us to look at, live near, and, yes, well, eat or smell?

These questions and more will be percolating in my mind, and hopefully yours, as I launch into the next month’s topic. Stay tuned to this blog for relevant updates and future musings!

Welcome to "My Year of Plants"

Welcome to My Year of Plants, a monthly investigation into what these (usually) green creatures mean to us humans in the modern world. It is somewhat ironic that my decision to embark on this venture coincided with the proverbial last straw: I inadvertently and finally killed off the last of my of house plants, including two cacti that were considered impervious to neglect and incompetence. But, no more! The year 2012 is, for me and for any of you reading this blog, the year of the plant. What role do plants have in my daily life? With Google at my fingertips, do they really matter? Who can hope to grow anything in the urban-scape in which most of us live? What do I eat, and what should I buy from the grocery store? These questions and many more will be addressed in this blog, every month during 2012.

You will be treated to tips, pictures, recipes, links to websites, book favorites, (hopefully) interesting and instructive anecdotes, and much more from the plant kingdom. However, only a taste, pun intended, from these topics will be found in this blog. The meat (sorry) of the plant-based information I wish to share with all of you will be the subject of my book entitled “My Year of Plants”, to be published in early 2013. The book, as with the blog, will be divided into 12 parts, chapters, or entries, depending on the medium, each of which will be dedicated to one plant-related monthly topic. For example, in January you can look forward to everything you ever wanted to know about house plants, my attempt to find penance after the 2011 fiasco alluded to above, and to delve into the important topic about how we should best beautify, using greenery, our indoor living spaces. February will be dedicated to…well, you will just have to stay tuned to this blog to find out more.

So, eat another salad, grow something healthy, wear a sweater embroidered with sequined flowers, and join me for a fun, fascinating year of plants!