I am not on Facebook. Don't look for me there, and I can't pretend that I will be making regular entries here. I am very busy with the business of survival . . . working daily to fix this old house in West Oakland, tending my tiny vegetable garden, which provides me food. I am very grateful to have shelter, glad to have earth to grow food. Small backyard gardens are good for the planet; no fuel used to transport my food! Plant vegetables, folks. If you have windowsill, you can grow greens. Today, I picked kale and tatsoi, ate a few tender and buttery beet greens followed by spicy sorrel, red and green. Soon, there will be squash. Tiny yellow squash are swelling beneath the shriveled blooms.

When I sit on back steps, breathing sun and listening to the gulls swooping high above, I am pleased by the flowers blooming down below. Today, when I went to buy caulk, I saw a budding delphineum. Now it grows near the fern next to the foxglove that I hope will spread its seed far and wide until the whole yard blooms. Butterflies alight on the marigolds. Las mariposas . . . las hermanas mariposa. Viva! Even the most delicate can be free.

When I walk from my front door, I see the olive tree my son Issa planted in the planter I built of salvaged brick, speaking peace. The tree is blooming, dropping its tiny white flowers on the dark earth below. Soon there will be a sea of lettuce growing at its feet and daises blooming nearby. I am lucky to know how to build, how to plant, how to enjoy the beauties of being alive. I am glad I don't need to shop, to buy, to consume. Sun makes me happy. Wind makes me ecstatic. Tomorrow, I will continue repairing 100+ year old wood on the front of my house, gently readying it for paint so that it might last another 100 years and offer shelter to another woman, another family, another life. May there be joy in your life.

May there be peace. Breathe the sun when it comes from behind clouds and sing the wind. You'll be glad you did.