Free Made by Hand by Mark Frauenfelder Page A

systems that work, like an organization system.”
    “Why is it important for you to be able to do that?”
    “It feels like it’s about creating a lifestyle that’s more rewarding,” Eric replied. “It’s about breaking from that consumer cycle and living a more natural life. Over the last hundred years we’ve gotten so far from that. I think it’s detrimental to society and individuals. I think it’s about trying to reconnect, not just with the land but with a more sane and sustainable way to live. Not just ecological sustainability but a sustainable way to live with the daily rituals you perform and a lifestyle that works better. For me anyway.”

    Eric and Julia invited me back to their house in November. They wanted to show off the shack they’d built on the slope of their property, which Eric was going to use as his painting studio. They’d also invited Mister Jalopy, and Erik Knutzen and Kelly Coyne of the Homegrown Evolution blog, to come along.
    Before driving to their place, I took care of a few chores around the house. I fed and watered our chickens, who were a few weeks old at that point. In addition to the chick starter mash they’d been eating, I fed them some of the green flowering buds on my basil plants. The chicks seemed to enjoy the change of diet. I also found some day-old pancakes in the refrigerator, so Sarina and I brought them to the coop to see if the chickens would be interested in eating them. They didn’t like it when we held a pancake out to them, but when we crumbled one up in a pan, they went crazy for it. When one of the chickens snatched a piece, she’d run to a corner and the other chickens would chase her, grabbing the morsel out of her beak. They’d fight for a while over the crumb, ignoring the bounty in the pan.
    Back in the garden, I collected the dried flowers on the basil plants, and Jane and I rubbed them between our fingers over a bowl to collect the tiny black seeds and save them in an envelope so we could plant them next spring.
    In the kitchen, I rotated the trays of persimmons that I was drying and then went into the yard to collect the pineapple guavas that had fallen off the tree. Jane and I shared a few. I was surprised that she liked the tart, exotic flavor of the guavas (also known as feijoas), because I’d thought of her as a picky eater. Strangely, she wanted nothing to do with the dried persimmons, which are as sweet and as mild as taffy.
    The morning was still cool, so I went to the garden to plant lettuce seeds I’d ordered from the Seed Saver’s Exchange and garlic bulbs I’d picked up at a nursery near my house. The bag contained three garlic bulbs, and the label clearly showed the entire bulb being planted in the ground with the instructions, “Place bulbs in hole, pointed ends up.” I dug three holes to the indicated depth, spaced five inches apart from one another, and put one bulb in each hole.
    I planted another couple of rows of lettuce before calling it quits for the morning. I had to wash up and get ready for lunch at Ramshackle Solid. Carla had other plans that day, so I brought Jane and Sarina with me. I filled a bag with persimmons and feijoas to give to Eric and Julia and drove over to their place. I parked my car near the chain-link gate in front of the house. As we approached, their two pit bull mutts barked excitedly. Jane scrambled into my arms, and Sarina hid behind me. Jane said she didn’t want to go in. But Mister Jalopy’s wife, Lynette, appeared and assured the girls that the dogs were simply happy to meet new visitors. Mrs. Jalopy led us to a wooden gate, and the dogs trotted up to us, wagging their tails.
    Parked in the driveway was a dilapidated Airstream trailer that hadn’t been there the last time I’d visited. We went inside to find Mister Jalopy having a conversation with Julia and Eric’s four-year-old son, Emmet. Somehow he had managed to climb into a cubbyhole about four feet off the floor. It was hot inside