Joan Dye Gussow

Organic, yes. Suburban, yes. Homesteading? Depends on your definition. As for confessions, there are some. About half of the book is comprised of anecdotes about the trials of gardening in two totally different soils (one perfected over the course of 34 years, one clayey and flood-prone), into old age, against the wishes of meddlesome neighbors, and through the death of her husband. The “confessions” delve toward the end into more of a rant. Mrs. Gussow is entitled to rant on the topics that she does (relocalization of American agriculture, the welfare of farmers, the effect of climate change on food production, etc.) because she is something of an expert in these areas and her complaints are quite real.

She has a lot to say, from direct experience in most cases, about feeding yourself from your own land, local and seasonal eating, GMOs, water shortages, and the systemic problems with America's food supply today.… (altro)

As a fan of Gussow's earlier, better book, "This Organic Life," I felt compelled to pick this up after I had read about it. So far, it's fair--I love her crotchety spirit, but her writing flags at times, mostly pedestrian (fine when writing about vegetable gardening), but occasionally a sentence gasps for help or at least palliative care. ("What we really have are cheap raw materials like corn, soy, and wheat, of which the true costs of raising are paid on our tax bill." (p. 88) Did Sarah Palin write this?) Nonetheless, I soldier on for the mad, vegetable-y parts. Done soldiering.… (altro)

As a fan of Gussow's earlier, better book, "This Organic Life," I felt compelled to pick this up after I had read about it. So far, it's fair--I love her crotchety spirit, but her writing flags at times, mostly pedestrian (fine when writing about vegetable gardening), but occasionally a sentence gasps for help or at least palliative care. ("What we really have are cheap raw materials like corn, soy, and wheat, of which the true costs of raising are paid on our tax bill." (p. 88) Did Sarah Palin write this?) Nonetheless, I soldier on for the mad, vegetable-y parts. Done soldiering.… (altro)

Joan Gussow and her husband set out to build their retirement home, and instead they built a garden. I kid you not. Her dream home was really picked because of its location on the Hudson river and its long backyard with ample sunny space, but when they discovered the house had to be gutted (and even later, that it had to be torn down and rebuilt) they went ahead and started improving the land and planting vegetables months before their home was tenable. I am amazed already, but go on through my reading to discover that Gussow and her husband have reached their goal of feeding themselves from their own yard- veggie garden, fruit trees and berry patches- when there isn't stuff available fresh they eat stored potatoes, onions and parsnips, etc. That impresses me enough, but she goes on to live her environmentalist convictions even further, always questioning where the food she eats was produced, looking for food sources as close to home as she can get them as well as other measures (the book is mostly about food-related ones). One chapter is all about things she's willing to do without, another is about the next-door community garden she helps establish, yet another is about the hard knocks nature deals them- like when the river floods their garden, when wireworms eat her sweet potatoes, when rats destroy her tomato plants. She admits it's not easy and worries even more over the state of our nation's famers, who must have it even harder. This is such a conscientious, thoughtful, funny and encouraging book I'm looking already for a copy to add to my personal library. Not to mention that it's got recipes, and really good-looking ones, too!

from the Dogear Diary… (altro)