Maieshe Ljin

Ugh, I keep forgetting farms and people! There are many more!

I am seeing something very inspiring as I make more community connections. I am seeing permaculture EVERYWHERE.

I visited someone today only a short distance from me. The family had a small permaculture garden going on and though it seemed like the plants might have been a bit too close together it was very inspiring. A lot of hard work went into it and it showed in the berries growing everywhere, in the beautiful flowers (which were grown permaculturally) and their mushrooms and herbs and generally thriving garden ecosystem. So much life and vitality there. Not only that but their neighbor is also a permie, who mostly is interested in native plants. Over the mountain lives a friend who I would describe as having permaculture-ish ways of doing things but doesn’t use the label. Who lives near to a farm that has planted acres of food forest. And then there is a third permaculture adjacent farm, and another organization that does and promotes permaculture and sustainability… do I live in a bubble or is this starting to become the norm?

To qualify all of that, I notice that they tend to be clustered in areas of natural beauty and fertile soil which haven’t been gentrified. In gentrified sections, things seem very dry permaculture-wise. Mostly big dry lawns.

“Our role is to be the instrument whereby the valley celebrates itself. The valley is both the object and the subject of the celebration. It is our high privilege to articulate this celebration in the stories we tell and in the songs we sing.” -Thomas Berry

This is one of the tunes I learned guitar on, from an old book of various folk, renaissance, and classical music, which I decided to look up and found this performance of the dance:

Reminds me of a gruesome-looking fiber tool, the Picker. I know someone who has one, but I’ve never used it.

https://duckduckgo.com/?q=fiber+picker&t=ffip&iar=images

I wonder if mushrooms growing in natural environments with plenty of microbes might have B12?… such as mycorrhizal or soil dwelling fungi. A lot of typical commercial mushrooms are grown under mostly sterile conditions and shiitakes and other wood dwellers are not dependent on microbes to fruit, but others have a number of microbial partners they require for fruiting, like king oyster.

Thank you for the advice! I did move the mycelia to a larger, more open topped container with more food as they were looking a little cramped, hoping they will grow more before fruiting. They seemed to be trying to fruit but not having enough water so I hope they are still well enough to jump off and live.

The mashed fern root may have been fermented slightly. I left the pieces in a bowl, wet, for a few days before using. And the second time I used fern root, it was simply dried and pounded, and the medium was quickly colonized by a Rhizopus-looking mould. The other time I used fermented media, in a bag that I had started the same day, I had left some goosefoot and jewelweed stalks in a bowl of water and it began to grow slimy and fermented. When I mixed that with cacao husk and king Stropharia spawn, they ate the fermented stalks with great appetite and spread quickly. It may also be that different species like different media and that the sensitive fern was a good food for king oyster and maybe less so for stropharia, but it may be the fermented, watery, nutritious nature of them that attracted them the most.

I did ask for it:

In a realm beyond the boundaries of perception, there existed a phenomenon known as Zorp. Zorp was neither a being nor a non-being, neither defined by existence nor absence. It floated in a state of ambiguity, a collection of colors and shapes that shimmered in the void, neither here nor there.

In this same realm, there was also Bob, a concept rather than a creature. Bob was neither conscious nor unconscious, neither active nor inert. It existed as a notion, a placeholder for the idea of routine, a series of actions that spiraled in an endless loop without beginning or end.

Zorp, in its formlessness, experienced a cycle of transitions. It shifted through hues that had no names, swirling in patterns that held no meaning. There was no morning or evening, only a continuum of color that ebbed and flowed, neither brightening nor dimming.

Bob, as an abstract construct, engaged in a series of actions that were neither performed nor unperformed. It was a sequence of events that unfolded in a space devoid of time. There were no tasks to complete, no emails to check, and no sandwiches to eat. Instead, there was a perpetual state of doing and not doing, a rhythm that resonated without sound.

In this realm, Zorp and Bob coexisted in a dance of paradox. Zorp’s colors intertwined with Bob’s actions, creating a tapestry of existence that was neither vibrant nor dull. They were neither present in the moment nor absent from it, existing in a state of perpetual neutrality.

As the continuum stretched infinitely, Zorp and Bob remained in their respective states, neither evolving nor regressing. They were neither alive in the traditional sense nor dead in any finality. They simply were, a blend of concepts and colors, a reflection of existence that defied definition.

And so, in this realm of ambiguity, Zorp and Bob continued their existence, a dance of the undefined, a story without a narrative, a presence without presence. The end.

Now this:

"Write a story that is repetitive, boring, and uncreative."

Once upon a time, in a small town, there was a man named Bob. Bob woke up every morning at 7:00 AM. He got out of bed, brushed his teeth, and made himself a cup of coffee. After finishing his coffee, he put on his shoes and left his house.

Bob walked to the bus stop. He waited for the bus. The bus arrived at 7:30 AM. Bob got on the bus. He sat in his usual seat by the window. The bus drove to his workplace. It took about 30 minutes. Bob got off the bus and walked into the office.

In the office, Bob sat at his desk. He turned on his computer. He checked his emails. After checking his emails, he started working on his tasks. He worked until lunchtime. At 12:00 PM, Bob went to the break room. He made himself a sandwich. He ate his sandwich. After eating, he went back to his desk.

Bob continued to work. He worked until 5:00 PM. At 5:00 PM, Bob packed up his things. He left the office. He walked to the bus stop. He waited for the bus. The bus arrived at 5:30 PM. Bob got on the bus. He sat in his usual seat by the window. The bus drove back to his neighborhood. It took about 30 minutes. Bob got off the bus and walked home.

Once home, Bob took off his shoes. He went to the kitchen. He made himself dinner. After dinner, he watched television. He watched the same show he always watched. After the show, he went to bed. He set his alarm for 7:00 AM.

The next day, Bob woke up at 7:00 AM. He got out of bed, brushed his teeth, and made himself a cup of coffee. After finishing his coffee, he put on his shoes and left his house. Bob walked to the bus stop. He waited for the bus. The bus arrived at 7:30 AM. Bob got on the bus. He sat in his usual seat by the window. The bus drove to his workplace. It took about 30 minutes. Bob got off the bus and walked into the office.

In the office, Bob sat at his desk. He turned on his computer. He checked his emails. After checking his emails, he started working on his tasks. He worked until lunchtime. At 12:00 PM, Bob went to the break room. He made himself a sandwich. He ate his sandwich. After eating, he went back to his desk.

Bob continued to work. He worked until 5:00 PM. At 5:00 PM, Bob packed up his things. He left the office. He walked to the bus stop. He waited for the bus. The bus arrived at 5:30 PM. Bob got on the bus. He sat in his usual seat by the window. The bus drove back to his neighborhood. It took about 30 minutes. Bob got off the bus and walked home.

Once home, Bob took off his shoes. He went to the kitchen. He made himself dinner. After dinner, he watched television. He watched the same show he always watched. After the show, he went to bed. He set his alarm for 7:00 AM.

And so it went, day after day, week after week, month after month. Bob woke up at 7:00 AM, brushed his teeth, made coffee, walked to the bus stop, rode the bus, worked at the office, had lunch, went home, made dinner, watched television, and went to bed. The end.

I tried a little and decided that yes, I made it too salty! But in the past I had made it from ramp leaves and it tasted very good. Someone who tried it thought it was a little like dried seaweed.