Living with the Living
I step into my abode and am enveloped by the radiation of wood combusting in a metal and brick stove. The natural-toned, mica-flecked, stucco walls wink and smile rather than blare and beam. Scarred wooden floors creak with joy at my arrival; it's welcoming and lived in. The herbs and lettuce would agree, I presume, as they eek out an existence next to a window.
Across from them, laying still, are a tv (with no reception) and dvd player. Vibrating forth from a laptop computer come the rhythms of hip-hop, rock n roll, jazz...; whatever the mood, my housemate has a Pandora station to satisfy it. In living and interacting with others in a comfortable yet mindful way we are able to satisfy basic needs and many desires, engaging on a small scale while thinking about a greater one. We're modern folk don't ya know, a little bit hip, and a lotta bit trying to get a grip- on what's good.
To an uninformed passerby it may seem like a regular house on a regular lot, but it's not just a regular house and it doesn't just have a regular yard. Yes, it's rectangularish, painted, with a roof, and surrounded by dirt and plants, but there are things going on here that may not be discernible to the unexpecting eye. Most everything is familiar, but many features may be unfamiliar, some are hidden, and some unique aspects are barely recognizable. My landlord was the Prescott College Permaculture teacher- think sustainable living, eco design, and trying to work with systems of nature rather than against them.
I moved into my current residence with the fading heat of late summer and fall quickly approaching. Most of my first memories are of hanging out with my new housemates in the living room or connected kitchen while the smells of fall cuisine flood the air. When the air begins to chill and the leaves start to fall- it's time to eat, and baking butter infused squash with bacon, apples and Gouda makes new friends. After being in the oven for about 10 minutes the pressure becomes too great for the two halves of squash and her essence begins pushing and pulling itself out of the fibers and pores. At 15 min. the oven, full of liberating heat, can’t contain her any longer. At this time it is known by any creature in that room or the next that this is an invitation to dine with destiny.
Cooking and eating together is one of the most natural ways of bonding. The desire to connect with others is similar to the hunger for food; the two together make a winning combination. The living room of my house joins seamlessly with the kitchen. They are siamese twins, there is not one without the other. That can also be said for the dining area as the living room moves into one undeterred rectangle. I probably spend as much time in the kitchen as anywhere else. I like to cook, and more importantly, I love to eat. Cooking at home is cheaper, healthier and many times tastier. I go to college and work part-time, so I'm on a budget. If I could afford eating at restaurants more I probably would, but there comes much satisfaction and delight in growing and preparing a meal for myself and for friends all the better.
An apple tree sits no more than 15 ft from my front door, and an abundance of green apples still hung there in late summer. I ate one everyday while on our 15 minute break in Environmental Biology. Sometimes I ate two or three throughout the day. They were small, only semi- tart and quite sweet. Of course they were extra special because they were free and grown just outside my room. One time a kid from my class came up to me with a big shiny Red Delicious (not very delicious at all) apple and said, “I saw you eating that apple, and I just had to get one.” I responded, “Cool man!” and bobbed my head and smiled. I was glad he was stoked, but also felt a bit bad for him, because he was eating such a subpar version of what I was blessedly chomping on.
In and around my house many plants grow. Many are edible, produce edible fruit or are beneficial to the garden in some way. Sunflowers attract bees for pollination, legumes promote a healthy soil and herbs are grown for their aroma, healing properties and culinary prowess. All contribute to create a vibrant and living landscape, one that humans and animals can interact with and benefit from.
When rain falls on the roof and streams into its gutters it doesn't then flow into the street, rather it is funneled into rain catchment tanks. The water from the four 7x7 foot mini-silo water storage devices is what irrigates the landscape. The water from our showers and sinks, known as grey water, flows down the drain through pipes into subsurface vessels where it percolates to water plants from below. Conserving water is essential in Arizona's arid climate.
Most of us as a society are far away and disconnected from our food source. We feel more comfortable eating something that we have no idea of what and how it is made more so than something freshly picked from the earth. On this lot we are trying to grow a good amount of our own food. Just like in times past we’ll know what went in to growing it, and our bodies and minds will benefit from working the land and consuming it’s bounties.
The few things taking place here are only a few of the possibilities in the pursuit of positive and rewarding urban and suburban living. We soon hope to raise chickens for eggs, would like to get solar panels for water heating, and hope to construct a larger greenhouse for winter growing. The owner believes that this house can be a model for uncomplicated steps that anyone can take to engage and improve their immediate living environment. My housemates and I agree. We are not perfect, but we take satisfaction in striving to be mindful within our inhabitance and we are open to the possibilities that being so may create.
