Weeks-long delays, everything out of stock, bizarre substitutions - supermarket deliveries are not meeting this moment. Time to plant a garden. But growing your own takes time: 85 days for a tomato from seed, 66 days for green beans, 60 days for zucchini. Who has that kind of time? 

You need a Fast Garden. That’s: 

Fast crops: The fastest crops are those that just have to produce leaves. Radishes, mustard greens, several of the Asian greens like mizuna, and some salad greens like arugula are the real sprinters. Even more speedy are sprouts and microgreens, which you eat long before they are mature. 

Speedy varieties: You want the fastest of the fast crops, look at days to harvest on packets or descriptions. I’ve got arugula that’s 40 days to harvest and arugula that’s 20 days to harvest. That’s salad in half the time.

No limits: Don’t check your plants’ growth, meaning make sure they have enough of everything they need to grow as fast as possible. Water, light, soil nutrients (aka fertilizer). Don’t forget heat: seeds sprout faster in warm spots (like the top of the fridge) and plants grow faster in the greenhouse-like shelter of a milk jug cloche or other mini-greenhouse-like shelter. Containers get things going earlier in the season because the soil in them warms up much faster than the soil in the ground does. You can also position containers for maximum sun or for warm spots, like next to a south or west facing wall.
But: not too much water - don’t drown those plants! Overwatering and underwatering both kill plants. The soil surface should feel like a wrung-out sponge, more or less all the time. Very important aid in this: any containers need drainage holes. 

Stay inside: Unlike you, your plants are happy to shelter at home, as long as there’s enough light. Your sunniest windowsill might work, if artificial lights aren’t an option. Starting plants indoors, then moving them outdoors as soon as it’s warm enough is a classic fast garden technique. 

Materials Right Now: Since you’re self-isolating at home, a big garden shopping trip  is not on the agenda. The bare essentials you need are soil, containers, and seeds, and they all just need to be good enough for the pandemic moment. Whatever soil you have in your yard is probably fine. Plants that will only be inside for six weeks or so don’t need specialty grow lights - regular fluorescent or LED fixtures are fine for a while. Temporary containers don’t have to be ideal. Even household plastics from the recycling bin will work, as long as you add a hole or two for drainage. 

“But wait,” you say, “Something-something plastics something toxins!” My take on this: if you’re not living on what you grow in that plastic as your main food source for an extended time, don’t worry about it. Whatever might come from that plastic in that short time in the limited quantity that you eat will be very small, as long as it’s food-grade plastic to start with. Also worth considering is the enormous amount of plastic used in the production of the supermarket produce you usually eat, especially if it’s organic, and the various pesticides and herbicides used on it, especially if it’s not.

Some pithy statement about gardening as an intrinsically hopeful and forward-looking activity would be a great way to wrap this up, but who has time for philosophy? There’s a fast garden to plant. 

Also on Medium.

Stop. Listen. Wherever you are right now, can you hear traffic noise? 

While we wait for science to save us from COVID-19, I’m killing some time walking (alone) on a quiet street. All the streets are quiet now, especially in the 38 states (and rising) like this one with “stay at home” orders in place.

COVID-19 has quieted highways across the country, if not the world - temporarily. Fewer cars and more bikes and pedestrians are a sudden glimpse of a future predicted to arrive as soon as 2022, with twice the number of bike commuters in major cities worldwide, and therefore fewer cars on the road. 

Like everything else disrupted by the virus, traffic will be back, at some point. The noise of internal combustion engines is part of daily life, affecting you more than you realize. Today’s silent highways are another preview of a world coming soon, when quiet e-vehicles take over. In my lifetime, silence will fall on the interstates and other major roads, and it will affect all of us.

People don’t like to be next to multi-lane highways, a statement so obvious it’s embarrassing to say out loud. Sometimes the obvious is easy to overlook, though, in its power to shape the world around us. It's too obvious to consider so it doesn’t get considered at all. 

With highways, it’s the noise and the pollution and the trash and the way these massive transportation edifices make it difficult for those immediately adjacent to them to get anywhere, ironically. Don’t underestimate the noise. The US Department of Transportation says, “levels of highway traffic noise typically range from 70 to 80 dB(A) at a distance of 15 meters (50 feet) from the highway. These levels affect a majority of people, interrupting concentration, increasing heart rates, or limiting the ability to carry on a conversation.” Researchers have found links between noise and cardiovascular disease and Type II diabetes, as well as sleep disturbance and depression.

Our aversion to traffic noise and other highway impacts shapes land use and property values around busy roads. We’ve grown used to this, so we see it as natural and neutral, as though it’s always been that way and couldn’t be any other way. Neither of those things are true.

In cities, freeways were often sited as a deliberate strategy to “clear” neighborhoods seen as undesirable by those in the positions of power that mattered. After obliterating those often-Black, sometimes-other-marginalized-group neighborhoods, the highways made it easy for white residents with means to move to the suburbs, further hollowing out the city. There’s a sinister feedback loop that starts here, where the highway is built through the poor/black neighborhood because racism/NIMBYism/inability to resist, and then effects of the highway makes what remains of that same neighborhood have to struggle much harder. Just the presence of a limited access highway next door to a home will depress its property value. That doesn’t count the deleterious effects of disinvestment in neighboring properties as their values decline and as people with options are driven away by the noise and inconvenience. The worse it is, the worse it gets. 

All of this is sad but familiar, a story repeated through cities across the country. A new and different story is being written in Boston and Seattle, among others, where  freeways have been removed from the cityscape, buried or rerouted. In their place are open space and/or new lower-speed smaller surface roads. This realigns land use, property values, and in time, the perceived status of the whole neighborhood. That spiral reverses and suddenly the old neighborhood is a much more desirable place to live. 

We can’t get rid of all the interstates (can we?). Traffic has to go somewhere, plus interstates arguably serve national defense preparedness. But consider: We walk these pandemic-quieted roads in the twilight of the internal combustion engine, with climate change bearing down on us. Lot of plans around for climate action, with a commonality of the strategy of electrifying transportation, because we know how to generate electricity with renewable resources and because transportation and electricity generation are two of the big dogs in US GHG emissions. Solve those, and you’ve solved a lot of our climate issue. And so, EVs are on their way, probably with more mass transit and more getting around under our own power and more micro-mobility. All these modes have in common that they are so much quieter than the traffic roaring by on I-95, and so much cleaner. 

When the big silence falls on the highways near you, how will it change where you live? How will your life be better?

Will you remember the quiet roads of these pandemic days?






 

I’m an old, old hand at working from home. Been doing it at least part-time for almost 20 years. I know this will shock everyone who’s struggling to adjust, but at this point, I much prefer working at home to having an office anywhere.

Useful things I’ve learned:

Get real about your daily cycle. The constant distractions of a workplace make it easy to hide your ups and downs of focus and energy, but in your new workplace of one, there’s no hiding. I do the good creative work in early afternoon, the necessary but unfulfilling in the morning, and brainless stuff after four. It won’t work to browbeat yourself - just find your cycle and work with it.

Your work station can’t suck. Make it as comfortable and pleasant as you can, and not somewhere that requires you to put everything away at night (like the kitchen table). It doesn’t have to be anything like what you have at work, though - use the couch, the deck, move from place to place, as long as…

Don’t ignore pain. Ergonomics matter, and laptops keep physical therapists in business. Even just propping your laptop up on a box and plugging an external keyboard into it can make a huge difference. Easy to let this fall apart at home, especially when you expect it to be short term, but it matters, especially because…

Don’t work round the clock. Keeping a schedule lets you relax into routine without having to create every day’s schedule anew. That schedule includes breaks. You move around a lot less at home, because the bathroom, coffee, etc.  are all closer. Make up for it with a walk around the block or the yard or better yet…

Customize your day. Want to try eating lunch as your biggest meal or exercising  during your midafternoon slump? This is your chance to give it a try, as long as you’ve got the flexibility. I often use exercise as an opportunity to let my mind work on an idea or problem, which means it’s most useful in the middle of the day, not before or after work.

Silence is precious, unless you want noise. Most places I’ve lived while working at home had traffic and neighbor noise around during the day. I need silence to do heavy-duty analytical thinking, but generally I work to music and/or the background hum of laundry or the dishwasher, which provide a nice feeling of busyness. Dull tedious tasks, like updating my website, are sometimes best done in front of the TV, just not the currently-terrifying cable news.    

What no one admits: If everything goes your way, an hour working at home is much better than an hour at the office (with a huge caveat to those with kids and/or pets demanding constant attention). Your mileage may vary here, but for me it’s at least 2 to one, especially for focus-intensive tasks like writing. 

Also posted on Medium