April 2015 (19)
Sixty-five years ago, the American Southwest was at the beginning of a uranium boom that left lasting scars on the landscape and the population—men lost to deadly jobs in the uranium mines and mills. Today, the byproducts of that boom, 700,000 tons of waste depleted uranium, are in search of a final resting place.
This planting guide reflects some of the changes occurring in the city garden. With the rise of raised beds, intensive planting, vertical gardening and no-till methods, planting charts of yesteryear are less useful.
I wrote text for this column last night. Then, with one thoughtless keystroke, it was gone. I wrote a note to the production manager: "I lost everything." Then I crumpled up the note, tossed it in recycling and went to bed. I'm a bit more philosophical about loss, after a recent swim with mortality.
Long before Jesus turned water into wine, perhaps as far back as 9000 BP, humans were making and drinking beer, or at least something similar. The brew has seen changes. Crack open a beer from 10th century England or 12th century Germany, for example, and most drinkers would immediately notice something missing. Hops. The rhizome first sprung up in central Asia over 10,000 years ago. By piecing together ancient folklore, we can trace human cultivation of the crop as it left Asia and moved into the area now known as Romania, where is was considered a delicacy and eaten much like we eat asparagus today.