A “Dry January” joke?


This was going to be a punny post about “dry january” and how around here that has meant dry gardening. Like, almost no rain for the whole month, during what should be our rainy season.

February 1st is the end of “Dry January” (the alcohol trend) and also water dry January here in Northern CA, because as I write and send this email to you, rain is arriving! Halleluja!

Here's a story about water in gardens: I met a friendly young gardener from Belgium last week who shared something interesting about ollas. He has several in his garden beds, which, first of all . . .?? I always think of Belgium as a wet place, not the sort of climate where you need extra irrigation.

Nope, I was wrong. He said that the ollas really help even out the water in his beds, smoothing the transitions between wet and dry. Because – get this: they pull water out of the soil as well.

When the soil is extra soggy, water flows in to the ollas, improving air flow in the soil. Then as the days go by after a rainfall, the water seeps back out of the olla and into the soil. The ollas are like a buffer, or maybe a lung, breathing in and out.

Some of you who live in wet places are probably like, “duh,” but for me this was a revelation. Our soil has never been so wet that water seeps back into my ollas.

In fact, just last week, I had to go around filling them back up! In January!! My cold weather veggies (which this year are just lettuce, chard, and kale) were starting to droop with dryness.

Dry plants in January is really no fun. (Though I recognize that we're lucky that dry plants is our only problem, compared to what this dry season has brought to Southern California. All the more reason to be celebrating rain.)

And for the “Dry January” folks for whom it refers to alcohol, maybe also it’s no fun?

In the midst of writing this post, however, and thinking “ha ha, what a fun little gardening / cultural pun” I was forwarded this essay by Tressie McMillan Cottom about Dry January, the alcohol kind.

Here’s the heart of the essay: “If Dry January were just temporary teetotalism or total abstinence, it would be innocuous. But consumer-driven health campaigns that get this kind of traction do not happen in a vacuum. A broader modern temperance movement promoting “clean” living traffics in moral superiority.”

Reading the essay tied the gardening side and alcohol abstinence side of the joke together in a not altogether comfortable way. McMillan Cottom explained how Dry January fits into the overall “clean” eating movement. Where “clean” is necessarily in opposition to “dirty,” and where “clean” is framed as an individual, moral choice.

Of course it’s natural to want to keep toxins out of our bodies. That's one of the great benefits of growing your own vegetables. But what’s insidious about “clean” as a lifestyle choice is that it implies that you actually do have control.

First of all, it implies that you have the financial and time resources to procure and prepare clean food, which as most of you know, is not trivial. Clean eating takes a LOT of either time, money, cognitive effort, or all three.

Secondly, framing “clean” as an individual choice ignores the systems around us - the pollution, the additives, the pesticides, the synthetics, etc. All the reasons we’re freaked out and compelled to seek clean living.

Seeing “clean” as an individual choice, we judge one another as “cleaner” or, inevitably, “dirtier.” We also become distracted from the real culprits - the toxins flowing unchecked into the air, water, and soil around us, that no amount of clean eating can avoid.

If we’re focused on our purity as individuals, it takes attention from creating clean environments and food for everyone. Wouldn’t it be better to simply trust that food, water and air were clean by default?

Something that really bothers me about essays like McMillan Cottom’s, and now this one I’m writing myself, is that while the problem of individual vs community effort is clear (or at least clear-ish), the solution is less clear.

So often, I’ve heard the argument that we need to act as a community, or band together. But, like, how? actually?

It’s SO MUCH EASIER to start seeds and grow your own food than to think about doing a group thing. With gardening, you get to do it on your own, on your own time, in your own way.

Group things? They require other people, and disagreements, and compromise, and almost inevitably turn political, even if it’s just the neighborhood politics of who’s doing what with their front yard. I don’t like politics, and I don’t really like groups, because, you know, politics.

However, I’m getting over myself, and my general dislike of group stuff. I - wait for it - joined a committee this week.

I’m perhaps the most surprised of anyone. I don’t really have the time, and have I mentioned that I’m not into, you know, groups of people?

But I was in the middle of writing this essay about not knowing how to actively contribute to a locally cleaner environment when the invitation came to join a neighborhood landscaping committee. The goal is to plant native plants and encourage pollinators (while also, hopefully, curbing litter and other unsavory stuff) here in Orta’s industrial neighborhood. I signed up. I went to a meeting. And I lived to tell the tale.

Collective action (or maybe just group gardening) here I come!

Have you had any experience taking your gardening outside the boundaries of your own yard? And / or working with other people to keep the air, water, and soil cleaner where you live?

Please hit reply and tell me about it. I'd love to hear from you!

Happy Seedurday,

Anne


When you’re ready, here are some more ways I can help you grow a thriving garden from seed:

1. Plan your seed-starting schedule with our free printable planner.​

2. Download the free Orta Seed Starting Handbook with all the basics you need to succeed with seeds.​

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4. Join the Orta Seed Club to have 5 hand-picked, unusual & high-yielding varieties delivered to you every season.

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