Tommie’s cafe at the wonderful public library in Livermore makes yummy sandwiches and pours high-quality McLaughlin coffee. It became a wonderful example of how an outspoken sustainable (aka “annoying”) customer can encourage a business to become more green: Every time I went there for a cup of coffee I would purposefully leave my travel mug in the car and ask for a reusable cup. Every time I would end up walking back to my car to get my own mug—with a big, emotionally manipulative “sigh”. Usually the baristas would only charge me for a small coffee to make up for my “inconvenience”. Until today when they were all smiles pointing at a new sign that was advertising Tommie’s “House” mugs. A few weeks earlier I had a chat with the owner about offering at least one sustainable coffee with the result that “Sumatra Organic” has entered the six-coffee line-up. One more problem: the open ceramic mugs are not welcome inside the library. Tommie …?
Archive for organic
new home for a baby chicken
“Do you want a baby chicken?” asks the Mexican boy that lives across the street from me. I am not surprised by the question as my frontyard chickens are well-known in the neighborhood. He originally had two chicks but since the cat ate one he is not allowed to keep the other. “Yes! Yes!” I answer emphatically as I had promised my French friend Olivia (who recently lost her Bantam hen) to find her a new chicken. I give the thirsty “poussin” (which is French for “chick”) some fresh water and Olivia gives it a new name: pous-pous.
angels of the dirt
Weeks of anticipation are over and the big day has come: this morning I find the first two eggs in the chicken coop. They are small and have two wonderful shades of brown. I expect them to get larger as my three hens get used to “make me breakfast” … (-;
Which of all birds is more humble and more hard working than a chicken? They lay an egg every day, make everyone smile, and demand nothing but water and food scraps in return. They – literally – “poop it forward”. No bird is more deserving to be called an “angel” than the humble hen who cannot even fly properly. The proof is in the angel food cake.
dropping the “slow bomb”
Earthlings, I am an avatar who has infiltrated one of the most guarded governments labs where they build nuclear chikkin’ weapons. I have secretly developed an absolutely lethal force that combines chickens with lasers. Today I will drop this “slow bomb” onto the American heartland. The core of beautiful downtown Livermore will become “green zero”. You will completely recover through this. My technology is so advanced it will slow bomb you back to the roots that you have lost. It will slow you down until you are Frencher than the French. You will drink a lot of wine and eat a lot of cheese and have two-hour lunches and three-hour dinners with all your friends all the time. Are you loving it? Demand me to cluster slow bomb you and I will deliver the mother of all slow bombs. Resistance will turn your own children against you—in particular your last born. Watch me Tuesday March 30th at 7 pm PST as I ignite this “slow bomb” of “green love” (slides, reloaded). Activation sequence initiated: “all your kale are belong to us” … (-:
Disclaimer: Please note that phrases such as “slow bomb” or “laser chicken” are meant in a cute, harmless, and non-violent manner. They are funny, catchy, thought-provoking word plays on opposites and express the conceptual similarity to “slow food”.
a love potion as organic pest control
Driving up North Vasco Road to Brentwood is a wonderful way to spend a sunny Sunday springtime morning: white wind mills, green soft hills, family farms, cattle, goats, and orchards in bloom. For the annual blossom festival farmer Al of Frog Hollow Farm was giving us a tour of his organic fruit orchards. For pest control he uses a special “love potion” that prevents the moths from mating: from every tree hangs a little plastic envelope that is filled with female pheromones. When the male moths arrive there is an intense smells of female everywhere but they cannot find a single one. Poor male moths … I know exactly how you feel.
creating an urban farm in downtown livermore 