In the 1940s I remember my grandfather digging a well at our pear ranch. It was not very deep and he lined with wooden boards. He purchased the parts to a windmill and when it…
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Last month the novelist, screenwriter, and CounterPunch contributor Clancy Sigal, whose most recent book is the vital Hemingway Lives!, sent me the following vignette, a history lesson in the nearly unbreakable union between music and…
Wild birds perch on bare lambsquarter limbs, picking off the tiny black seeds. Lambsquarters, the weed, is closely related to quinoa, the grain, one of the latest health crazes. Quinoa is mostly grown at high…
NOT THAT SHE'S talking about why she left, but Suzette Cook, the smart and energetic young editor briefly in charge of news for the twin ad sales sheets known as the Fort Bragg Advocate and…
The Gualala Community Center hosts Pay-N-Take, a second-hand store open on the first Saturday morning of every month, for almost everything recyclable, from fine china to table saws. I volunteered there for 14 years in…
Sandy is a school teacher and environmentalist who has been involved in several cooperative businesses and community non-profits over the years.
First off, Constant Reader, I would like to assure you that I have no idea what a "below standard boatswain door for grande" is, and I don't expect you to. I refer to a transcriptional…
When Marcia and I got together eight years ago, we embarked on a fascinating process of making a studio album with the help of Peter Temple, the recording savant of Albion. I played guitar and piano and sang, Marcia wrote and arranged and played gorgeous cello parts for our original tunes, and the late great Amunka Davila supplied tasty percussion. The project took several months longer than I thought it would and used up most of the money I’d set aside for such creative endeavors.