In correspondence with our young friend Z (the extemporaneously elegant guest blogger) it occurs to me, that he travelled more, between age 7 and age.. is he 30 yet? I don't think so! than I have, in my entire life.

My travels began after age 30, so I have a strong sense of "home".
Austin, Texas is the unchanging North of my soul compass.

Never mind, that it's further South than most of the world has ever been. Yes, most of Russia and China are north of that parallel.
Yes, that is most of the world.

Not US.

That's where we screw up. We think that, because our media conglomerates are so pervasive, that we are somehow, "the mostest with the mostest".

We "US'ns" are the "fewest with the mostest".

Still astonished at two-times per week trash pickup (we need two-times per week recycling pickup!) and the cavernous depths of our wheeled trash can. I can miss a day and not have that much to deal with.

After no luck at any store nearby in finding a decent compost bin, we tripped over one in a pile of junk to be picked up by the city. We picked it up, dragged it home, and I put it together.
Nothing is better for the soul and the garden, than taking what you didn't eat, and turning it into something you will eat.
This bin had a plastic base, which I left out.
The base keeps out the worms and other microorganisms. Without these, you don't get compost! So I just propped them on the side to help insulate the magical, mysterious process of creating earth.

When you come from a place that is mostly rocks and sand, not humus, as I have.. there is a real joy in participating in creating nutritious, black earth to grow your own food in.

This is why I love to garden. This is how I find "home".
I "go to earth".
We all do, in the end.
Might as well make it part of life.