My Lovely Neighbors

Two houses up from us live these wonderful people who help raise and protect monarch butterflies. This means that on our block and in the surrounding neighborhood, there are monarchs. Nearly year-round. Like I just said, wonderful people.

Monarch on Heliotrope, April 10th, 2026

I am not so wonderful. (True confessions here: I don't really like to grow milkweed plants in my garden. Those non-native orange aphids just creep me out.) 

I prefer to grow plants that feed the adult butterflies, who then go on to make new baby butterflies. A different "circle of life". After a few years of observation, I have found that there are two plants that 1) I love; 2) the butterflies and other insect-types love; 3) are easy to grow and bloom year-round (especially the heliotrope); and 4) don't need gallons of water to thrive.

They are Heliotrope, especially the white version (Heliotropium arborescens 'Alba') and Verbena Bonariensis. Now one entirely valid criticism of both these plants is that they are non-natives. True. So am I a non-native. But they do the job, probably better than I could ever do. 

Talking to (Solar) Power

There's a lot of people out there who really don't like PG&E, the regulated public utility company that supplies power to much of Northern California. 

Add over one million more households - all of us who have solar panels on our roofs - plus all those millions more who benefit from rooftop solar or want to put rooftop solar on their homes, apartment buildings, schools, farms, parking lots, etc.. Why are we all so pissed off?

All of the big public utilities in the state now want to rollback and penalize those people who want to use the sun for their energy needs, rather than continue to kill the planet by burning fossil fuels. For all the ins and outs:

Environment California

Save California Solar

Even Arnie thinks it's a dumb idea

What to do? Get the current governor involved!

Call Governor Newsom at 916/445-2841  

Sign any and all of those petitions that you can find online

Hand write a letter to Governor Newsom at 1021 O Street, Suite 9000, Sacramento, CA 95814. Since so few people now remember how to use stamps, your efforts here might really get noticed.

SAMPLE SCRIPT (cribbed from Solar Rights Alliance): 

“I am opposed to the CPUC’s proposal to make it more expensive for people to put solar panels on their roof.

Consumers should not be penalized in any way for making solar at their homes, schools, businesses and houses of worship. California should do more to promote local solar, not less. People need relief from high energy bills, blackouts and air pollution. 

 

Making rooftop solar and batteries more expensive for everyone, especially middle and working class people, makes no sense. It’s the wrong direction for California. Please step in, protect the public interest, promote more rooftop solar for more people, not less. 

 

[CPUC Docket #: R.20-08-020]"

Thank you!

Winter's Bounty into Spring

Somehow, the pepper plants decided that this past winter really wasn't so bad, so they kept producing little peppers all winter long. Yes, they were tiny, but mighty - intensely flavored, crisp and sweet. It took a large handful to make a serving, but as a garnish, chopped into a salad or added to a stew, they were a bright reminder of summer. 

The Last of the Peppers from Last Summer

Two weeks ago they had to make way for new plantings. We can only hope that the new generation will be so prolific and tenacious. 

Payoff

Yellow-faced Bumblebee

She's back! For at least 12 years, I haven't seen, smelled or heard a single bumblebee in the yard. Other varieties of bees, yes, but nary a bumbler.

In the past few years though, I've been working my little trowel to the bone, adding pollinator-friendly plants and always hoping that some of my new neighbors would be in the bumblebee family. And credit where credit is due - at the same time that I was adding new and enticing food sources, my neighbor ripped out a "food desert" of juniper bushes and replaced them with California natives. Her choices have also certainly helped in this effort.

Now I am very aware that there are other, seemingly bigger health and social issues at play right now. I am simply trying to find a small bit of solace where I can, even if she only weighs less than a tenth of a gram. As Thor Hanson points out in his book, Buzz: the Nature and Necessity of Bees, the world can live without humans; unfortunately, it will have a very hard time without bees.

King Tides: They're Coming For You

King Tide at César Chavez Park, Jan 11th, 2020

This weekend you have the chance participate in the California King Tides Project simply by taking a walk along the shoreline with your camera. Friends, family and/or a furry walking companion (on a leash, of course) may add to your pleasure, as would lunch out afterwards, but are not at all required. Or you might attend one of the many events around the bay instead.

A "King Tide" occurs when an alignment between the gravitational forces of the sun and the moon create an exceptionally high tide. And the California Coastal Commission wants you to help document it this weekend - February 8th and 9th - so the youngsters of the future may see how the shoreline once appeared. So be happy that the weather is supposed to be clear this weekend or you could get really wet.

Don't forget to check the tide charts for wherever you might be photographing.

Monarchs and Milkweeds

I hate growing milkweed plants. Well, it's not the plants I hate. It's the sticky orange aphids that always seem to infest milkweed plants that I truly loath. And "infest" is not hyperbole; in fact, it probably understates the problem.

But after hearing about the collapse of the monarch butterfly population on the west coast, I figured that, once again, I must get over my aversion to pulsing, brainless orange bugs and plant some milkweeds.

So this summer I researched which species of milkweed are native to my area, and planted Narrow Leaf Milkweed (Asclepias fascicularis). In a pot, and far away from any other plants that those orange buggers also might want to colonize. And each time I water the milkweed, I always wear work gloves so that I can smash, smush, squish and squash them into oblivion. A festival of murder and mayhem every two or three days. All without getting my hands dirty.

And the payoff for all this hands-on grossness? Three days ago, I found the first little monarch caterpillar munching away. It's a little late in the season, but maybe s/he can pull it off. And if not this season, no matter. There will be more chances next year because this time around I won’t give up on milkweeds and monarchs just because of some icky-sticky orange bugs.

One Plastic Tub at a Time

It's not that we eat that much yogurt. And although the containers are really quite useful, it does add up.

For example, rather than buy plastic food storage containers, I use the spare yogurt, cottage cheese, etc. containers for leftovers. But it still adds up.

Yes, they are recyclable, but these days, it's getting harder and harder to find plastic recyclers, so actually, more than just my containers are adding up. And big time.

So now we're going back to our hippy-dippy roots and, once again, making our own yogurt. Easy to do, lots of recipes and instructions out there, so just hunt around. I do have a few tips, though, to help simplify the process:


If possible, use a stainless steel pot - much easier to clean out.

Don't make giant batches of yogurt unless you use a lot. Somehow mold likes homemade yogurt better than store-bought stuff (even the "no-preservatives added" kind. Funny.) and it really doesn't freeze well, no matter what people say.

A thermometer helps. I didn't buy anything special but simply use my meat thermometer.

Forget the ice bath, sink full of cold water, etc.. Just a waste of water. It takes around a half-hour or so for the hot milk to cool down sufficiently (110 - 115 degrees). So set the timer and go do something else. Something fun. And if it cools down too much, simply re-heat the milk.

Use a glass (not plastic, right?) container just for your yogurt. Also, it's far easier (and cleaner) to transfer milk to the glass jar than it is to leave the yogurt in the pot and do the transfer later. Besides glass holds in the heat better.

Swaddle that baby in a couple of kitchen towels (I very carefully warm up the towels in the microwave for 30 - 60 seconds first) and then place in that warm place. I use my stovetop - it has a pilot light - but spending time in the oven with either the pilot light or light on also works fine.

Swaddled Yogurt Jar

Glass Quart Jar of Yogurt

Each time you make yogurt, you can save some and use it for the next batch. Eventually though, you will probably discover that the newest batch just doesn't thicken quite as well. I guess we all get old and tired.

So ultimately, you will have to go and purchase some new yogurt to start the process again. But in the meanwhile, think of all those plastic containers that are not your responsibility.

There seem to be a number of techniques for making yogurt from non-dairy sources. I have not tried any of them, but I think my tips still apply. Or I could be wrong; it's happened before.

Onward to the cottage cheese containers...

"Art" in Action

So last Wednesday we went to help make banners for the "Rise for Climate" March in San Francisco, printing and then painting fabric to be mounted on poles (believe me, there were many more steps to it than just that). But it was a fun and productive afternoon, even if ink landed on a few more surfaces than originally intended - yeah, yeah, it was an old shirt, but not that old...

Yesterday at the March, we saw so many of the banners that we and many, many others helped produce. Let's just hope it can make a difference.

Photos Courtesy of Michael Reardon

Great Bees of Fire

Not really. Not of fire. But just busy and helpful to us, so perhaps we should extend a helping hand in return. For example:

The Great Sunflower Project (GSP) is an on-going, citizen-science, hands-on (just how many hyphenated adjectives can I string together?), participatory activity with over 100,000 members that helps scientists better understand bees and other pollinators.

I encourage everyone with any sort of garden to volunteer with the GSP. You can even do it from your home. Right now, the GPS is looking for people to commit to at least 4 data counts during the year - 40 minutes total. And if you live in the Midwest, please start the counting, because info from there is really incomplete. This map tells the story.

I have been participating in the GSP for 10+ years, and back then I would grow sunflowers in the parking strip. Needless to say, the sidewalk in front was pretty entertaining, but more than a little crowded.

So I wised up and planted coreopsis. My coreopsis counts cannot be used as part of the official GSP pollinator surveys, but are useful in helping identify important pollinator plants. And yes, even if they don't officially count, bees and other pollinators absolutely adore the coreopsis.

Perhaps that is the big lesson - just plant some bee friendly flowering plants. The pollinators will love them and you, even if you don't get around to counting.

Winter is Coming

Yes, it is now technically winter. But those dark and rainy days counterbalanced by warm embers in the fireplace and hot soupy meals for dinner are a bit elusive. Dark, yes, we've got dark, but no real rain so far. And a warm fire in the fireplace is not permitted for reasons of bad air quality.

But the dawn redwood in the Mountain View Cemetery is working through its annual cycle, as always. I have not followed this particular tree's habits and schedule enough to know if this is early or late; all I know is that the tree is now losing its needles for the winter. We are so unused to seeing a deciduous conifer that it almost seems as though the tree is dying. But just you wait 'til next year...

Have a Wonderful New Year!

March in April

It's not every week you get to march down the middle of Market Street in San Francisco with a whole big bunch of people you don't know. Except for this week, when it happens twice.

You may have missed the Tax March yesterday, but there still is time to get in on the act: this upcoming Saturday (11am, Justin Herman Plaza, if you want to hear the speeches. Otherwise, show up at noon or so.) is the March for Science. Best of all, you can march along with real live scientists. With a science fair, food trucks and other cool stuff at the end. And it's not even supposed to rain.

What a way to blow off a Saturday!

Updates #7

Willard Middle School

The Willard Middle School Community Mosaic is now completed and looks great. Even the letters "H" and one of the "O's"in "School" that I worked on look OK. I think everyone who participated is quite proud.

Solar Panels Installation
on a Foggy Day

And we're proud to have an array of solar panels on the roof. We're renting them for the next 20 years (if we are around that long) but it should make a difference. And, with any luck, by the time the 20 years is up, we will have figured out how to read the monthly bill from PG&E. They don't make it easy.

We cannot recommend the company that we unwisely chose to do the work (more about that later, once the deal is completely finalized). But if you want to save money and help save the planet all at once, you might give Solar City a call. Our neighbor had a great experience with them.

Summer Amaryllis

Pumpkins and a blooming amaryllis. Must be summertime. The pumpkin grew across the driveway with little water and even less sun. It is now soup. The amaryllis? Who knows, but it seems to re-bloom just because.

Looking forward to the 2017? Well, I first need to make sure that there isn't a cactus growing out of my head. Yeah, right now the world just seems very prickly and confused, so I might as well stop scratching and join the resistance.

Handcrafted at the Senior Citizens' Ceramics Class
St. John's Church, Berkeley, CA

Now What?

We lost. We all have lost. And all the cute kitty photos are not going to make it right. At least not anytime soon.

It is most disturbing that we - and the rest of the entire world - are stuck. Stuck even though scarcely more than 25 percent of potential voters in America chose this future.

We can be sad. And we can be angry.  Around this house, we are both.

This past week I've kept my brain busy devising numerous ingenious punishments and painful hardships for those supporters of hate and strife. I won't go into too many details (is it really possible to have a giant tornado and a fracking-induced violent earthquake at the same time?), but trust me, in my schemes, that Pharaoh in Exodus got off really easy.

But that is all in my head.

The real question? What to do next that will make a difference. And how to keep sane and of good cheer in the meanwhile.

Many of the issues raised during the election are important. For me, the two that seem most critical are the composition of the Supreme Court and climate change.

I do not feel that I can have much of an impact on the Supreme Court, but I do plan to work very hard over the next few years to try and keep this planet a living planet.

Three Years of Peppers - Local Evidence of Global Climate Change

2014

In the spring of 2014, my mom came to visit and, surprise, surprise, we went shopping for plants. She bought stuff, I bought stuff, and in my pile of stuff was a six-pack of pepper plants.

The little plants did just what they were supposed to do and produced a pile of small green-yellow, ripening to red peppers throughout the summer and into the fall. Wonderful.

2015

Since they were still looking good, or good enough, I kinda didn't get around to pulling them out. They over-wintered 2014/15 and most came back big and busy for a second season. Those that didn't survive were replaced with new pepper plants - King of the North from Fedco.

The 2015 season was also bountiful, and early. Because of their head start, those 2014 peppers began producing peppers by April. Eager little buggers, no?

Fall of 2015 - what to do? Why, leave them in, of course, and wait and see... new baby pepper blossoms in late January.

2016

2016 was a long season - last week I just picked the last round of peppers for the year, although one plant is blossoming and two others are considering his/her lead. Yank 'em? I don't think so.

Now I know better than to take credit for this abundance. Yes, my thumb may have a greenish tinge (brownish, really, because of the ground-in dirt) but the extremely mild winters of recent years have allowed these and other cold-sensitive plants to survive into another year.

It seems that peppers (Capsicum annuum) originated in central-western Mexico, more than 6,500 years ago. But I'm pretty sure that it would be just fine if the climate of central Mexico stayed where it was and didn't show up on my doorstep quite yet.