We have been changing the flow of water from the mountains to the sea for many thousands of years now.  Here is a system farmers used in southern Spain, likely Roman and Moorish in origin and practice.  It is an open ditch along the road that diverted water from the rivers to feed to the farms up and down the hill.  A series of closing gates ensured that each farmer got their allotted share.

The water would flow through town and pop up in a series of fountains, then continue its way to the next town, the sea, or underground.

Instead of gravity fed systems and open air ditches, we use electric pumps, metal and plastic tubes to move water where we want to.  Here are some basic notes about irrigation:

FLOW is how much water you have coming out of your pipes, measured in Gallons Per Minute (GPM) or  in Gallons Per Hour (GPH).

Pressure is how hard water is pushing through the pipes, measured in Pounds Per Square Inch (PSI).  Drippy showerhead, can’t get clean – low pressure!  Bummer.

There is endless variation on how to deliver the water to the plants.

Some plants needs a lot of water consistently, like lawns, vegetables, and fruits.   Other plants get by with a summer rain shower or a few months of winter rain, and still look healthy and good all year round.

It is important to know how water and pipes work, and to be able to troubleshoot problems as they arise.  Anything that interacts all day long with nature and people will have problems.

The golden rule of gardening:  Right plant in the right place!!

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We were at the beach.  A crowd was saying final goodbyes to a loved one…

 So we started working in the vegetable garden.  It was overgrown with weeds.

We were concerned that past activities had contaminated the soil.  Vegetables suck up metal ions and store them in their plant parts – roots, stems, leaves, flowers, and fruits.  If we eat these veggies in large quantities, the metals can cause our bodies big problems.

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Soil is a living force.  A handful of soil is millions and millions of creatures.

An overview of different farming styles led to discussions of philosophy and our relationship to the earth.

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Give and take, give and take.  Take naps, dream, then go back to work!

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Hey, how about a few swiss chard-eating fly larvae in the stir fry?  Protein!!

In my youth, I learned that there were trays of leftover easy-to-scavenge donuts in the dumpster.  There were un-ripped and clean clothes in rainbow hues that could be bought for a dollar.  A door, a pick up truck, a Quonset hut, a foyer, a lemonade bush – all could be home and bed.  Nature was abundant and shared her wealth with generosity.

Tipsy adults and hippies in trees were definite influences at this time.  Between triple shots of double espressos, my friends and I wrote a book about reuse and recycling.  We photocopied it, bound it, and published in 1992 under the name E.M. Windows, named for Marie with the soapy bucket and long handled squeegees.

The book was called:

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Some of the objects we reused were:

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Ms. Dogface was working at a gas station at the time:

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The true names of the authors are Euphoria Marie Foster Sorensen, Georgina Robinson, and myself.  Marie is a genius.  Georgina, I imagine, is walking the dog.

Over the years, the three R’s of reduce, reuse and recycle have become an integral part of our culture.  In San Francisco, we separate the trash.  There are black, blue and green buckets for trash, recycling and compost.  This way, the landfills don’t fill up as fast, new products are made from the old, and nutrients are returned back to the earth.

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This story is about drinking the vine of the soul from dusk to dawn.  It is dedicated to the brave people of the Siecopai culture, to the unguragui and chambira palms, and to the wantas scavenging for forest fruits in the night.

When the sun lit up the day, these pictures flashed before me.  There are three stories in one.  The first is a gathering of people around a ceremonial fire.  The second is about cells and the scientific mind.  In the third we enter the realm of jaguars and anacondas.

Part I:  Ceremony

C’mon, let’s go!  By the side of the trail, three hawthorn trees with berries stand tall.

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Let’s make camp by the river.  Clear wings of dragonflies glide and spin along the banks.

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Orange spotted blue butterflies hop from sand spit to sand spit.  Crows dive, tumble, and even out.

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We greet the dude who chants, blows, and sings all night.  Ho ho ho!

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We share a smile with friends who hold down the corners: turtle, fox, and hummingbird.

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This is Hawk, the black sun dancer who loves Indian stories.

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It was our first wedding anniversary, a full moon by the gushing river.  Que romantica!

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We drank a bitter potion of jungle vines, leaves, and flowers.

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We sat still on round pebbles watching the flicker of flames.

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Part II:  The cell

This is the membrane that lets stuff in and out – the lipid bilayer made of hydrophilic and hydrophobic heads.  Stay in balance!

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These are various parts inside the cell – the powerhouse, the dump, the makers of proteins…

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Here is the nucleus:  the safe house of the secret code.  Shhhhhhh……..

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The helical twists we know and love.  Elegant design, endless variation.

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Here comes the virus!  Don’t let it replicate!

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Part III:  Jaguars and anacondas

The rainbow serpent, protector of the universe, gets ready for transformation.

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Thousands of tigres y culebras are wrapped in gold, running back and forth.  They are laughing in a crystalline sky of chimes.

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Between the sun and the shade, Jaguar lies in camouflage.

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Jaguar’s whiskers sense unusual activity on the river rocks.

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Jaguar opens her mouth and sharp teeth, she gets ready to tear it up!

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Eagle claws, take me to the sky!  Grab hold.

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The Indian lodge!  I am here!  But how do you sing the universe into form and pattern?  Why is the setting sun black?  How do you keep the gates open?  I want to learn more.

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No!  Not into the bowels of excrement.  The storage vault of the spirit – the chipped and scarred, charred and broken.  Release the worms inside!

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Gotta hang by your toes.  This part is painful.  Drain the brain.  Fill it with love.

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Anda!  Una escritora Chilena guapita.  Too bad she is married and not your age.  Run free!

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And that was the end.  Wish I could explain it better.  Well, hope you enjoyed this story.

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CACOHUITOYAI!