For some reason, for me there's always been a higher barrier to entry to composting versus, say, recycling, or avoiding plastic bags and water bottles. Part of this is that I don't have a yard; I have public park. For years, a fellow apartment-dwelling friend of mine has collected all of her compost in a large plastic bag that she stores in her freezer until she can drop it off at a city composting facility or throw it into a yard-owning friend's heap. It's smart and doesn't require tons of effort, but it's still not what I'd call easy.

Luckily, some cities are putting a lot more effort into making it even easier - in SF, for example, we not only have communal veggie gardens popping up behind and between apartment buildings, but we also have a major city composting program, where you can chuck your compostables into a green bin just like you'd throw a can into the blue recycling one, and the city will pick it up and put it to use.

I had the op to see the clandestine gray water system mentioned in today's Personally Speaking firsthand on Easter. The thing was pretty impressive - rigged by [Anonymous]'s dad for under $100 and a lotta elbow grease.

[Anonymous]'s mom took a shower before Easter brunch, so we watched the slightly sudsy water trickle out onto a bunch of healthy California poppies in the yard. Gray water systems: the eco-friendliest way to break the law, ever?

-Toshio...off to suds up...

There are more than a few reasons why bamboo is great, but be careful before planting a shoot out back. You could unwittingly have just sold your yard to the bamboo devil, since it spreads like wildfire and just will not die. Consider trenches around the roots to keep them from getting out of control. The stalks we have in the office here came from an Ikea warehouse (which had no natural light, mind you) and even after a few long weeks where we didn't water them, they refused to succumb.

-Toshio...off to water the plants...

My family used to have a hothouse where we grew tomatoes - lots of them.  I don't know what variety they were or who originally planted the older ones, but in summer, you'd open the door and oh, what a delicious, fresh smell! And oh...what a delicious fresh taste. None of your mealy, white fruits here - I could eat them like apples.

So the fact that I really can't remember eating better tomatoes is because 1) I've actually never eaten better-tasting tomatoes, 2) eating tomatoes within 20 min of picking makes a difference, or 3) there's just something about planting your own and seeing them grow from seed to fruit.

I'll be planting some container-based heirloom seeds soon on my balcony (um, fire escape)...we'll see how it goes.

-Jenifer Morgan...off to plant some fog-friendly Sebastopols...

Single and looking for a hot girl's lawn to mow? Look no further than Jen. Not only is she looking for someone to mow her lawn, she's also looking for a significant other. The best part is, per today's tip, you won't even have to bag the clippings. Post a comment to apply!

-Toshio...off to write a personals ad for myself...

Try as I might, I'm lacking in blogging inspiration at the moment.  Every time I think about the fact that I pour my used water glasses into my watering can, I just start thinking about the M. Night Shyamalan movie "Signs."  Hey, I mean water glasses were dead useful there.  Apparently in the movies, water will off everything from wicked witches to aliens. But amongst us non-puce, earthbound folks, water is a bit more of a necessity for life.

In any case, since I'm finding it slightly difficult to find a blogging angle regarding saving your unsipped water for your houseplants, I figured I'd wax nostaligic about the days when my African violets would actually bloom...

Read more at:

 http://www.idealbite.com/blog/comments/just_call_me_the_angelina_of_african_violets/

-Heather... off to sing some spirituals or something to convince the little pretties to flower...

So yeah, I grew up in Orange County, CA, in a gated community (and I'm still having trouble proving to friends that I'm not the most sheltered guy in San Francisco).

Living in a gated community is weird for a number of reasons - security jeeps (not hybrids) are always roving, for one. But growing up, the thing that most irritated me is the fact that our community didn't let you grow native plants in your yard. Chaparral-type flora is normal for Orange County, but the community association wanted a more New England/Old Country vibe - big lawns, water-intensive flowering bushes and manmade ponds. None of which, of course, are actually meant to exist in the climate.

So I was especially annoyed when those roving security jeeps stopped on the cul-de-sac adjacent to our street, scoped out our backyard from two houses over (did they stand on the jeeps, or what?), then sent my parents a cease-and-desist letter to the effect of, "How could you betray our association's trust, and let a native bush grow in your backyard? We'll be watching." This, in spite of the fact that the bush was officially not visible from the street, unless, maybe, you were crazy enough to stand on your jeep and peer into a backyard two houses over from an adjacent cul-de-sac. And then only just.

The occasional family trip to Palm Springs compounded my dislike for excessive non-native flora and (this is gonna sound harsh) misuse of water. Come on, people - lawns just weren't meant to exist in the desert. Which is why I'm pro-fake lawn. When I think about them, I can't help but think about the façades at Universal Studios, though.

I'm not sure I'll ever have a lawn, period, but I'm totally rooting for all those desert-bound Biters who decide to fake it.

Okay so I received some samples of this MT-made week killer, and I gave it out to all my friends that have nice lawns and gardens.  I kid you not – even with nasty knapweed (and other noxious weeds) – this stuff worked.

True, it might kill the grass around it if you are not careful, but this is small “con” in a huge list of “pros” for not using that CRAZY-TOXIC conventional week killers – which probably also kill grass if you aren’t careful anyway.

Does anyone have a goat to help with weed control?  Would love to hear from you.  I am tempted to get one but afraid it would jump up on my car.

Off to weed my garden… oh whoops… don’t need to.  Jen

When I was a child my parents paid me $10 to mow the lawn, which I really liked for two reasons: I would cut diagonal lines into the lawn (satisfying my right brain), and second, I would zen out (quieting my over active left brain).

It was a gas motor, and since then, I hadn't mowed a lawn until my recent move to Bozeman.  My roommate is a bit lawn-freaky - and he bought a cheap reel mower and he said it sucked.  Then he bought a slightly more expensive one and we love it. No fumes. Little noise. Perfect for this 1/4 acre.  So I pitch in - get some sun and exercise and good roomie points.

Off to watch him mow the lawn.. Jen   

Cooking?  One of my strong suits.  Baking?  Even better.

Grilling?  Um, well... not so much.

For some reason, grilling seems a distinctly male endeavor to me, and because of this, I've never really bothered to master it. 

Thus, carcinogenically, (and given that I have 2 different kinds of grills), I have had many an overcharred grill experience over the years.  For best results, take it from me - it doesn't taste better if you scrape off the black flakes...

-Heather... off to plan for a 4th of July rooftop fireworks-watching BBQ...

I remember when the simple fact that a light could be motion-sensor triggered at all was positively mind-boggling.  How on earth could I walk in front of something and make it go on? (Then again, I also remember when a remote control was fascinating beyond all comprehension).

So the fact that motion-activated, solar-powered outdoor lights exist is actually nothing short of magic, if you think about it.

Get some.

-Heather... off to contemplate other technologically magic things such as the fact that I could have 150 emails in my inbox already...

For today's blog posting, please visit:

http://idealbite.blogs.com/ideal_bite_blog_about_it/2005/08/the_great_vikin.html

Happy Biting!

Heather

Toss on salads, cakes and cocktails:

• Violets
• Nasturtiums
• Pansies
• Lavender buds
• Sweat Peas

Go on - let us know yours.  If the bizarre US weather of late clears up, just maybe we can all go throw some seeds in the ground this weekend.

-Heather... off to see a pre-screening of Too Hot Not to Handle...

So of course we get scared over bats.  They are not particularly cute, and they fly like some sparrow that has just done a line of coke.  Plus, we usually have some childhood memory of a bat flying too close for comfort. I have had two:

1. I used to sleep in my grandma's hay barn, and I have this vivid memory of her chasing the bats out of our loft with a broom.  It was kind of like this comedic horror movie.

2. I lived in Guatemala in 1997 for a few months, and did this river cave hike, whereby we had to swim through this opening in the earth with only 1 foot of an air opening between the water and the cave entrance.  We frightened the bats that were all sleeping in the cavernous Fourier, and about 20 flew out as I was trying to go in.  I figured if I could get through that without having a heart attack, I could do the 3 mile hike into the center of the earth where this serene underground lake finalized the end of the hike.

Anyway, my bat house isn't inhabited yet, but spring is almost here, and so I am hopeful. Come on bats, promise I won't splat you with a broom or scream if you fly to close to my head. Bring on the bats.

Off to put some bedding around the bat house - Jen

As I type this, I've been in Paris for 24 hours, staying at my friends' apt in the Opera Arr.  Their place is unreal - no fewer than 10 skylights and 20 windows (I promise, I am not exaggerating), and it just makes me want to be Picasso; to wake and paint and take advantage of the mad light and 6th story Parisian rooftop views.

Unlike Picasso, sadly, I have no artistic skill.

But like Picasso, I do have a great love of food and drink, so the past day has been a whirlwind of espresso, cheese, pain au chocolate, and (of course) wine.  And throughout - as always when in Europe - I marvel at the perfection of the food... starting with perfect produce.  I had just a regular salad yesterday, at just a regular neighborhood cafe, and even the little tomatoes were ideal.  Hothouse, yes, but heirloom and stunning.

We couold all do with a heady dose of French perfectionism, I think.  Something about an adherence to the old-fashioned, a praise of originality and simplicity, permeates everything from food to fashion.

I, for one, am going to try to find out what little baby tomato varietal was in my salad yesterday, and add it to my garden this year: my own little nod to bringing Paris home with me.

-Heather... off to the Pompidou... sigh...

Who wants to talk about Pet Grass? Not me?  I am with a friend right now who would rather talk about natural drugs vs. synthetic.  Ie: catnip vs kitty crack.  So we did a comparison.  We smoked both….

Just kidding.  Froggy the cat did the comparison.  And he is 100% in love with all natural grass.  He sniffs, he nibbles.  Cricket thinks that must be up to something good so she just came over and walked on it and ate some.

Plus, it looks very feng shui.

Off to order enough to fill my big window sill – Jen   

"Young people everywhere have been allowed to choose between love and a garbage disposal unit. Everywhere they have chosen the garbage disposal unit." - Guy Debord

So funny, and I am sure true -- I remember apartment hunting in NYC and was floored and saddened that disposals weren't allowed.  Now it makes sense since I am thinking more about it... the food that you put down the disposal doesn't go straight to feed the fishies in the sea!  Au contraire - it puts a burden on sewage-treatment plant (or your septic system). This not only increases the load on our already overburdened sewage-treatment facilities, but also creates the need to use water to flush Aunt Edna's awfully inedible dinner down the drain (instead of strategically hiding it under that say recycled paper used napkin).

WhoWodaThunk?
Off to play with my super sexy NatureMill composter... Jen

Dear Santa:

OK, so if you have been paying attention (I know you are busy, but I like to think you read our emails and blog - if only to chuckle at the fact that Jen uses a goat to mow her lawn, sort of like you use animals to fly around at night)... anyway - I digress...

If you have been paying any attention at all, you know that I like to talk about all the great green things I want for Christmas.  And if I were to get any of those things, I really would be tickled beyond belief.  But let me tell you this: if you really do exist, here is my real and true and deep down wish:

I want a green roof.  And I've been a very good green girl.

Green Roofs Are Cool

I mean, I realize that installing a green roof isn't the easiest or least expensive proposition.  However, it happens to be one of the cooler things (literally and figuratively) you can do for the planet - esp. if you live in an urban corridor.  And I really need some help feeling cool these days, since I don't yet have a solar backpack.  So if you could just bring me a green roof, I wouldn't ask for anything else for a long time.  I promise. 

(And with the amazing rooftop access you have, bringing a green roof should be child's play for someone as connected and aeronautically superior as you).

A Few Other Small Requests to Get Started

Of course, to get the green roof, I'd have to be able to re-do the roof of my brownstone apartment.  And in order to do that, I'd really kind of need to own my apartment.  And since I am such a good green girl, I'll have to get an energy efficient mortgage with my apartment.  In order to qualify for one, I'd also need to get a bunch of low-energy appliances in my place and install some solar panels on top of my office (which sits in the middle of my future green roof).

So, really, I guess I am asking for an apartment, new appliances, a green mortgage, and some solar panels.

But only so I can have the green roof, OK?

I promise I've been really, really good.

Love,

Heather in Brooklyn.

PS - I make KILLER sugar cookies and am not vegan, so I'll also leave some milk out.

.... that looks like Herpes.  But alas, I am definitely more proud of my herbies. 

I have never been the Martha or Betty type, but when I moved into the new house, this big indoor window box area just called my name.

So I went to the nursery and got rosemary, thyme, and two types of basil. The whole planting process of making them happy in their new little rowboat of a home was great.  And then once I used some basil with tomatoes and mozzarella apps.  Once.

Off to pick some rosemary to inhale, Jen

(I'm just asking for it with that title, I know).

Because my garden is always containerized (roof restrictions for city living), I don't have any actual earth to plant in. So, for years, I bought my tulips and daffodils and hyacinths in the spring, and replanted them and enjoyed them immensely.

But a few years ago, I got tired of that - I wanted to grow my own, dammit! - so I ordered a bunch of gorgeous bulbs in mixed colors and planted like crazy. I added bone meal. I put them in the ground at exactly the right time. I watered and watched and waited. I was THRILLED at the expectation of green shoots and grand flowers the following spring.

For like a day.

On Day 2, little thieving, fiendish rats-with-fluffy-tails came along and ate every last one of my bulbs. I wanted to kill them. I still do.

In the end, I settled with having an enormous mutual animosity with them (don't get me wrong - if I could, I'd wring their necks - gardeners the world over know exactly how I feel). I run outside and throw things at them and scream like a maniac when I see them on my roof. This year, they actually stole whole ripe heirloom tomatoes and ate only half before getting bored and leaving the rest as a taunt for me to find.

In the years since that fated fall, I've figured out how to put my bulbs in the fridge over the winter and then "force" them in the spring. In the meantime, I have a seriously bad relationship with my local rats-with-fluffy-tails. I am willing to take a contract out on them should anyone want to help me with my murderous inclinations.

-Heather... off to watch The Godfather for some inspiration...

If fruit flies are driving you crazy, and you are feeling a little Martha-esque (sans ankle bracelet), you can easily make your own bug trap for your kitchen.

Last summer, they were driving me nuts, and I didn't want to spray a bunch of poison in the kitchen to get rid of fruit flies that were attracted to all my organic CSA produce. So, after a whole lot of fruitless (couldn't help it) searching online, I finally found a good, all-natural solution.

Take a small jar or juice glass. Pour a little apple cider vinegar in the bottom of it. Take a small square of paper and make it into a cone shaped funnel, leaving a small hole at the tip (like a little dunce cap with a quarter centimeter hole at the top). Invert the cone into the jar so that the hole at the tip hovers right above the vinegar. You might need to fold the paper over the top of the glass a little to get it to stay.

Set it on the counter or wherever your fruit flies are.

They will be attracted to the vinegar, will fly down the funnel and will get trapped and won't be able to figure out how to fly back out the hole.

You'll have to clean out and replace the jar every other day or so, but after about a week, your flies should be gone.

-Heather - off to perform an exorcism on myself to shrug off the weird Martha-possession that just happened...

If you pour salt on slugs, they dissolve into a glue-like goo.

I learned this when I was about 9, and entertained myself for an entire week, drenching slugs in salt, squatting down in my mom's flowerbeds with the table shaker, watching them die. Mom was thrilled - slug problem was being fixed naturally, and her very bored daughter had something to do. Dad made some remark about how it must be my Norwegian heritage - the bloodthirsty Viking side of me (which had never before reared its head, and I don't think has since) - coming out.

Of course, now I see it as a pretty sick pastime for a kid, but all I can say in my own defense is that there were no other children in my neighborhood, and I was bored a LOT in the summer.

So - slugs like beer. I don't have a slug problem at the moment (although my mom still does). Something about the beer fact makes me a little sad - like I have something in common with the slugs.

But trust me - if they showed up on my doorstep, the Viking horns would reemerge, and I'd be ready and waiting: can of beer in one hand, saltshaker in the other.

OK, so I use Miracle Gro. I know, I know... I'm going to eco-hell. But a few years ago - before I started doing the greening thing - in a really excited moment of massive spending - I got a great deal on a ton of it. So brought boxes of the stuff home with me.

And of course - what we all hate to admit - is that it really works at first. You let your plants have some, and they reward you, looking all happy and green and juicy and flowery. Until now - three years in... my plants are really struggling. It's not just the rust and blights and wilts and bugs... it's as though the soil itself is angry and the plants just aren't thriving.

And so I did a little research. And I learned that chemical fertilizers leech the soil of certain necessary nutrients over time, until the plants become so dependent on the chemical fertilizer, they have to have it all the time.

So, I am happy to report that my Miracle Gro supersized supply is finally exhausted. Yup, I'm out of the blue stuff. I am now using some eco-friendly fertilizer from Gardens Alive, because my brother turned me onto their great products. And meanwhile, as the world begins to move more and more toward sustainability-as-necessity... lo and behold, Miracle Gro has come out with an organic product.

Baby steps...

-Heather... off to feed my plants some non-blue organic drinks for their detox program...

I have always wondered what the deal was with mosquitoes loving me.  Yeah, everyone says “oh mosquitoes love me” but I promise, they L-O-V-E me.  I have heard so many theories, like: I eat a lot of sugar and therefore have sweet blood.  Or, I have a fast metabolism and so I vibrate at the right frequency for them.  Or they are attracted to the carbon dioxide composition of my exhale.  I don’t know what it is, but you should definitely rent me out for your next picnic, as all the mosquitoes will flock to me, and not you.

My worst mosquito incident?  Meeting my now ex-boyfriend’s mom in Naples, FL during July.  The fun began when my hunk-a-hunk-a-burning love tells me on the plane ride down, “Don’t get upset, but my mom won’t like you at first.”  I figured he waited until the plane ride to tell me this so I didn’t bail.  When we got to the carport, she rushed out to fawn over him for about five minutes while I stood there, swatting mosquitoes the moment I got out of the car. I guess due to all my flailing and flapping at the pesky bloodsuckers, she noticed I was there, and referred to me in the 3^rd person as “that girl” when she couldn’t remember my name. 

(Let me just fast-forward past the mid-week drama where she asked her second husband for a divorce while we were trying to sleep in the thin-walled guest room).  By day 6, I was so covered with mosquito bites that it looked like I had ordered the super-sized chicken pox.   To make things even more gruesome, I have always been a picker.  (Not so much my nose, but everything else).  So with these bites, in a masochistic melodramatic move, I scratched the living daylights out of them. 

Since the ex-beau’s mom was an ex-hippy there was no DEET to be had. Looking back, that was a good thing – not only would I have used it on my skin, but I also would have considered drinking it.  My only reprieve that week was jumping in the ocean because that Skin-So-Whatever stuff wasn’t hacking it.

Now that I am far, far away from Florida, and my scars are finally dissipating, I do just fine with all-natural bug repellents that actually smell good – so you can just douse yourself.  And for good measure, I keep my sugar intake down and meditate on keeping my vibrations at a lower frequency.  (And to those that know me personally, I know - I have a lot of progress to make on both of those fronts!)

Off to my first gig as rent-a-mosquito-magnet,

  Jen 

PS:  Want to know what scientists say about why mosquitoes are more attracted to some people? A plume of carbon dioxide and odors mix to act like a dinner bell to the mosquito, which lets them know a warm-blooded meal is in the vicinity.  Odors could be perfume, perspiration, and just your natural body odor.

My roses have aphids, my daylilies have rust, my clematis died overnight due to a fungus, and too many of my tomatoes aren't turning from flowers into little green buds, because the bees seem to have left the building. If I started to talk about the weeds that somehow make their way onto my rooftop (industrious little things, to fly up so high), this blog would get really, really long (even more so than usual).

So why won't the bugs and plants that I want show up, when I seem to have plenty of the ones that I'd rather have stay away?

(Oh lord, I could so easily take that as an analogy for so many other things in life, but I will refrain. For the time being, at least.)

It has taken every ounce of willpower I have not to go to my local hardware store, buy every pesticide and herbicide known to humankind, and spray the living daylights out of every square foot of my roof garden. But I guess one has to walk the walk when publicly committed to trying to live a green guru sort of life.

I did, however, make one natural discovery this year that has made the weed thing a bit better for some of my friends and clients - landscape fabric. At UrbanSage (my garden design company), I have gotten to play off of the rooftops a little, doing some work for people who have actual earth in which to plant. And those who put down landscape fabric underneath their mulch are having MUCH less of a weed problem than those who didn't (and who are now spraying nastiness in the form of chemicals). So - if you are trying to combat weeds, consider trying it out - it also retains moisture so that you have to water less often.

As for me and my rooftop woes... I'm taking comfort in the tomatoes that I do have and in the fact that I again have enough mint to support all the NYC restaurants in their mojito-endeavours

Happy gardening to all you gardeners - this is the last landscape/garden tip for a few weeks..

-Heather... off to remove the dead leaves from the rusted daylily...

So if someone could explain to me why it is that - when I find out that the latest actor that I have a crush on has a wife - I feel strangely as if I've been cheated on? It's not like Batman was gonna date me anyway...

But the activities of my brain seldom follow any rhyme or reason.

So to make myself feel better about the fact that Christian Bale is apparently happily married with a kid, I've decided to try to meditate a little more, hanging out in my garden and sniffing flowers. Of course - being on a rooftop in a rented flat in Brooklyn - my garden has certain limitations... I can't make any structural changes or plant anything that isn't in a container.

But last year, I did try to make my garden butterfly friendly - I planted monarda (or bee balm) and made sure I had plenty of flowers and hedges, where butterflies could grow. The best butterfly gardens incorporate great local plants that attract butterflies AND offer places for the butterflies to lay their eggs and hang out in a cocoon. Last year, it worked well. Generally, I have quite a few little winged friends by the end of the summer. But truth be told, I don't really care that much about the butterflies; mainly, I dig the bees that show up more than anything. (They like the butterfly flowers as well, so you've been forewarned).

Bees... there's always something a little great about things that are a bit dangerous and that might sting you if you play too closely.

Sort of like Batman.

Who is apparently cheating on me.

I'm obsessed with all things Italian... the country, the food, the products, the language, and (sorry to be clich�, but I would be remiss not to mention) the men.
For past several years, I've been lucky enough to head to Italy at least once a year. I can get my "fix" - eating and drinking my way through piazzas and villa gardens, buying fantastic soaps and linens and clothes, and gazing at the works of art (which are often actually the people walking down the street in perfect clothing).

But this summer... well, this summer, I'm "Biting" my way through my days. Therefore, Italy is off-limits so that I can provide you all with nifty tips and great cocktail party facts each morning.

Instead of going through withdrawals and weeping over my long-lost love of all things Latin, I am taking solace in my garden, and doing everything I can to bring Italy to me (well, to bring the food, at the very least). To that end, I have three tomato plants growing (two heirlooms and one hybrid) and a great crop of basil flourishing. Come August, I plan to eat tomato salad, bruschetta and pasta sauce every morning, noon and night.

Now before you shake your head and say "well, that is all well and good for you since you have a garden," let me dissuade you from your illusions: all these plants are in containers on my rooftop. I live in a brownstone walkup in Brooklyn. I don't have a single inch of natural soil available to me. I am a haphazard, if enthusiastic gardener, and when I first started doing this, I had no idea if it would work. (It does). And if I can do it - you can, too.

I don't care if you have the best farmers' market in the world. Nothing beats the taste of a tomato that you just picked yourself. So - before it's too late - go to your local garden or hardware store. Buy some potting soil and a pot (preferably NOT terracotta - they dry out too fast - and preferably with at LEAST a 14" diameter and 14" depth). Go to your farmers' market or garden store (or check online) and buy a patio tomato plant. Come home, dump the soil in the container. Leave at least 3" of empty space between the top of the soil and the rim of the pot (for the water when you water each day). Replant the tomato. Water thoroughly. Stick it in a sunny spot outside. Make sure it gets a solid drink every day. Wait about 10 more weeks.

Eat.

Dream of piazzas and Paulos and limoncello.

Send me an email and let me know how it goes.

Pygmy_goat I have always had “lawn envy” since I lived in cities most of life. Then I moved to Montana, and just got a place of my own. The previous owner (the sweetest guy in the world, Norm) did a lot to make the lawn pretty. Here I thought it was like some cosmic law - that when you have a house, grass will grow in front of it – but it turns out that is not the case. Norm worked like a dog to make the grass the gorgeous sight I inherited with the purchase.

So, when we did the deed transfer, he asked if I wanted to buy his lawn equipment. The riding lawn mower was a no-brainer, even though it didn’t come with a John Deer baseball cap. And then there were all these other things he sold : a backhoe, a tiller, a harrow, and… a ton of herbicide (gasp) to kill the raging knapweed, which infests more than 10,000 acres in Montana.

So, I am torn… knapweed invasion is associated with reductions in biodiversity, wildlife and livestock forage, and increased soil erosion. There are even nonprofits in the valley with the sole purpose of eradicating these noxious weeds. (I went to their WEED Festival… believe me – it wasn’t as fun as the name implies.) Anywhoo, I eventually did some research on natural removal of the stuff, and it turns out that knapweed is a plant that lives to flower and set seed. The plants will fight you every step of the way. In effect, everything I read just said "Good luck with natural options, this thing is a beast."

So, instead of introducing biological controls (ie: beetles and flies – bugs aren’t my thing) if Cricket doesn’t mind sharing the stage, I think I am going to get a goat. They have shown a propensity to graze vast amounts of noxious weeds, including the knapster. And one source told me that the droppings from goats do not spread the weeds or seeds - oh joy. Plus, they can be damn cute (the goats, not the droppings). One of my new neighbors just happens to be moving and looking for a home for her pygmy goat, so I might just add her to my menagerie.

So, wish me luck eradicating the baaaaaaad weeds. (Okay, that was a really baaaad joke).
Baaahhhaa bye (I just can’t stop!)– Jen

I'm a complete sucker for anything green and growing. In fact, as the token schizophrenic amongst my group of friends, one of my personalities actually owns a rooftop gardening company. (I say that with a healthy dose of self-deprecation and a complete awareness of how hyperbolic that statement is. I've really only got about four projects to do this summer and haven't even gotten my web site up yet). Regardless, I tend to like green and growing things, and playing in the dirt, even if I still can't stand to have it under my fingernails.

In the thick of summer, my garden is overflowing with flowers that I can cut and bring indoors to brighten my tiny dining room. I grow cosmos and roses and tall yarrows and echinacea and dahlias - all things that make me feel better for knowing I brought them to life. But during other times of the year, as I walk by my corner deli, I�m sorely tempted by the hothouse roses and lilies and tulips that spill out of buckets and onto the sidewalks - and I find myself coming up with reasons to buy them. "Well, I MIGHT have Chad over for dinner on Friday" (Chad couldn't care less about flowers, let's be honest); "Mom is coming to town" (in 4 weeks - well after the flowers would have died); or my personal favorite "I deserve them for [fill in blank with some made-up success like: going to yoga 5 times this week, or not emailing my ex-boyfriend, or managing to meditate for more than 5 minutes yesterday]."

As time passed (and I realized that blue daisies really don't exist in nature), I started to become a little more clued into the idea that these hothouse flowers just might carry a few bad byproducts with them; namely, pesticides and dyes.

Now, don't get me wrong - flowers are one of the greatest joys on earth, and we need to have them as much as possible. Moms absolutely must have them on Mother's Day, so I hope you sent some to yours.

But there are better ways than grabbing them from the corner deli or ordering them from your conventional florist. Find an organic florist, shop at local farmers' markets for locally grown flowers that are in season, or check out www.organicbouquet.com. Believe it or not, if you seek it out, you can find better alternatives at better prices. (And if you send your favorite Internet florist an email saying that you would like to see them offering organics, you never know when offers from them just might start popping up in your inbox...).

In any case - enjoy nature. Bring it indoors with you. Don't deny yourself (especially at this time of year) the amazing beauty exploding all around you. Just take a few little steps toward making that a more sustainable habit.