[Scroll to the bottom for PLANT A SEED contest instructions]

It isn’t glamorous, but Lynda describes her farming (mis)adventures with a sort of spunk and confidence that almost makes you want to leave everything behind and test yourself on a farm. It’s a comedy, with oversexed roosters and overflowing irrigation systems. It’s a tragedy, with murderous foxes and bug-destroyed crops. It’s a romance, with a dramatic, touching scene in the field at dawn, when . . . wait! I don’t want to spoil that part.

The Wisdom of the Radish is one of those rare nonfiction books with an engaging plot that could masquerade as fiction. Lynda writes like a cheeky girl next door; she makes starting a farm from scratch and raising unruly chickens sound like an amazing adventure story. But the book is also painlessly informative about plants, buying local, and the struggling field of small farming.

But most simply, it’s just a really good book. In one of my first weeks working at Sasquatch, I was assigned to do a backup read of the book right before it was sent to the printer. My boss probably thought I was the most dedicated employee ever: I read that book with such focus, even bringing it with me on my lunch break and reading it on the bus ride home. (Shh, don’t tell him it was just because I was hooked and couldn’t stop reading!)

The book also made me desperately want to go to my local farmers’ market. The small farmers in The Wisdom of the Radish are so real, so likable, and so hardworking that supporting local farmers just seems like the logical thing to do. Plus, I know they must have some juicy farming stories to share, just like Lynda.

Author Lynda Hopkins

So, the pressing question: what is the wisdom of the radish, anyway? I suppose you’ll have to read the book to find out.

***PLANT A SEED contest instructions:

Take inspiration from author Lynda Hopkins and enter our Plant a Seed contest. Send an email to custserv@sasquatchbooks.com with your mailing address and PLANT A SEED in the subject line. The winner will be chosen at random and will receive a collection of seeds from Lynda’s farm, Foggy River, as well as a copy of The Wisdom of the Radish. Best of luck!

For more on Lynda’s adventures, visit her farming blog: wisdomoftheradish.com.

I left my apartment building and headed down the street to the park, hoping to find some of these nocturnal creatures stuffing themselves on foliage. A few slime trails glittered in the LED streetlight’s glow. In The Secret World of Slugs and Snails, I had read how slugs and snails propel themselves by secreting mucus that allows them to easily slide over surfaces that defy imagination (including razor blades and sharp glass). This slime is even being used in cancer research as a way to target specific malignant cells without affecting surrounding healthy cells.

Every once in a while, I stopped and pushed aside some wet brown leaves with the toe of my shoe. My breath curled around the flashlight’s beam like steam around a train’s headlight in a film noir. I had nearly submitted to the cold and turned home when I pointed the beam at a wall, where the light fell upon a three-inch-long light grey slug with mottled stripes down its back. Deroceras reticulatum: the Grey fieldslug.

The little fellow in front of me stretched his eyes out, maybe wondering about the bright light that had interrupted his nighttime foraging. The skin that skimmed the concrete wall looked fragile and translucent—like veins in a leaf or the flesh of an orange. These tiny creatures are much more complex than anyone gives them credit for—they’re highly evolved to slowly and steadily survive in a world that rushes on above their heads.

My favorite anecdote in the book comes from Charles Darwin. He wrote of a pair of snails who were placed in a barren garden. The healthier snail left a trail of slime over the wall toward a more abundant garden next door. Observers assumed the snail had said sayonara to its weak buddy, but a day later, they were surprised to see the strong snail return to accompany its mate to the land of plenty.

As I made my way home, I thought about the coexistent nocturnal world I’d never taken the time to notice. If I hadn’t tried to look at the world on the slug’s level, would I have noticed the smell of the soil, the millipede hiding in the gravel, or the beautiful empty snail shell half hidden in the dirt?

David George Gordon will be at the Pacific Northwest Garden Show this Sunday 2/27 giving a seminar called Forging a Lasting Peace with Slugs and Snails at 2:15 PM.

He will also be speaking at Sky Nursery on Sunday 3/5 at 11 AM.

For more information about David George Gordon and a full list of his upcoming events, please check out his website: davidgeorgegordon.com.

You know the type: These are the books that you can disappear into for a few hours, curled up in your favorite chair, listening to the backdrop of rain and your cat purring, and learn something new about the world. Books where you’re constantly nodding your head and “hmm”-ing every time you read another interesting fact. The type of book that annoys your family and friends, as you keep interrupting them every few minutes, saying, Hey, listen to this! Did you know that…

David Douglas, the naturalist namesake of the infamous Douglas fir, thought roasted bald eagle was “very good eating”?

Or that…

His death–via a freak bull-attack–is shrouded in mystery and murder conspiracy theories?

Or that…

Seattle doctors don’t really just flirt and bicker like they do on TV?

So if you’re itching for your first rewarding winter read (and want to learn some fun facts to impress guests at your next cocktail party), try one of these books:

Like Grey’s Anatomy for the literary, The House of Hope and Fear gives the real behind-the-scenes look at Seattle’s biggest hospital. Audrey Young chronicles her years as an attending physician at Harborview Medical Center as she deals with the ecstasy and frustration of trying to help patients in a crowded, bustling urban hospital.

Charles Darwin may have made the strange creatures of the Galapagos Islands famous, but Washington’s famous naturalist, David Douglas, studied these animals a whole decade before Darwin. The Collector, recent PNBA Book Award winner, tells the engaging history of Washington’s natural past through Douglas’s escapades and adventures. Without having to survive on a diet of bald eagle, you can learn what it felt like to explore the Pacific Northwest when it was still wild, uncharted territory.

And now in paperback, both of these substantial, weighty reads will feel much lighter this winter… leaving one hand free for that steaming cup of coffee.

As soon as you cast a glance at a Ray Troll classic like “Rebel Without a Cod,” you know you’re angling for a good time. And then you’ll witness how Troll’s combination of visual and verbal puns spawns such masterpieces as “Truth Is Stranger Than Fishin’” and “Kvetch and Release.” And while most of Troll’s subjects swim in oceans, rivers, and lakes, land-dwellers are not speared by his fiendishly clever mind, as you’ll see in “Curio City Killed the Cat” and “The Family That Preys Together Stays Together.” And just for the halibut, the author throws in his uniquely skewed takes on “Pulp Fishin’,” evolution, life and death, and much more.

Rebel Without a Cod by Ray Troll

But by now you’re tired of hearing me carp on and on about Something Fishy This Way Comes, and besides, reading words describing this amazing collection of Troll’s work is bassackwards—you need to pick up the book and see it for yourself. Walk, catch a bus, or ride your bicycle, but whatever you do, hurry to your local bookseller and reel in this whopper of a book!

I am the King of the Ill-Advised Hike. The common-sense, follow-them-if-you-want-to-live guidelines that Northwest hiking guru Seabury Blair Jr. emphasizes in the Be Careful section of all of his Day Hike! and Creaky Knees guides are things my friends and I always ignored when we set out on hikes. An adequate supply of water? Nah, no need—there will no doubt be a drinking fountain along the trail. First-aid kit? Only dorks carry those—do we look like klutzes? A topographic map of the trail? Hey, up is up, down is down, and we’ll remember the route we hiked in on . . . etc., etc.

The result, predictably, has been a number of hikes that were unpleasant at best, and injurious or life-periling at worst:

One hike in the hills of Berkeley, California, ended with me stepping in a ditch I couldn’t see in the pitch blackness because we thought “we don’t need a light source—it’s not dark now” when we started. I endured two days of excruciating pain and torn cartilage in my left knee to show for that one.

Another time, only a tense argument followed by a triumph of democracy (two of the three of us voted to turn back while we still had a bit of daylight) between the hikers saved us from getting lost in the darkness far from the main trail on a brisk winter evening on Mt. Tamalpais in Marin County, California, when we had, of course, zero provisions. I suppose we would have survived the night, but to this day, I can still visualize the headline that could have appeared if we’d made the wrong decision: BODIES OF THREE IDIOT HIKERS AIRLIFTED OFF MT. TAM.

I don’t even want to think about the time a family member urged the others to hike from a vista point at the Grand Canyon to the base of the canyon on a whim one very hot September afternoon—again with absolutely no plan, map, or provisions. (For once, I wasn’t that family member.) Fortunately, that whim passed or the family threatened to throw the one who suggested the idea into the canyon; I forget which.

The belabored point I’m trying to make is merely that tired or aging limbs are not the only obstacles to invigorating, enriching, safe hikes. The biggest obstacle is often the muscle located within the skull. And the deft, entertaining way that is addressed is one of my favorite things about Seabury’s hiking guides, the latest of which is The Creaky Knees Guide Oregon. It’s the second of his books offering shorter, less-punishing “half-day” hikes for those with physical limitations that make longer, more challenging hikes impossible—or who would rather take a lighter stroll that emphasizes beautiful scenery and other visual rewards instead of mountain goat–like climbing skills.

The Creaky Knees Guide Oregon, like all of Seabury’s guides, is written in an entertaining, casual style that is like a friend talking to the reader, sharing stories and vital information. His tales from his own hiking experiences are often laugh-out-loud funny, but always with a point. He’ll tell you the sights and sounds to look out for to best enjoy the hike; with his detailed descriptions of the trails, signposts, and landmarks, you won’t have to worry about getting lost and missing the beautiful waterfall because you turned left instead of right at the junction with the spur trail. The hikes—eighty in all, including four urban trails—featuring all distances, hiking times, elevation gains, effort ratings, best seasons to hike, permit information, GPS trailhead coordinates, and topographic maps. In addition, hikes that allow—or are especially ideal for—children and dogs are identified.

And Seabury knows it’s no laughing matter to prepare thoroughly for even the most benign-seeming hike. In addition to “The 10 Essentials” that no hiker should be without, he describes weather and wildlife considerations that hikers should always be aware of (do you know the right thing to do if a mountain lion confronts you?). In his specific hike descriptions, if there’s a particularly hazardous or physically challenging section, he’ll tell you about it. These hikes are intended to be exhilarating and refreshing—not survivalist treks filled with surprises and danger. Seabury went out and risked his own limbs so you wouldn’t have to!

We haven’t even talked about the geography this new Creaky Knees book covers—the vast, fascinating state of Oregon, that’s what. Everything on the beautiful extended coast from Astoria to Whalehead Cove, the Columbia River Gorge, Mount Hood, Central Oregon, more remote corners of the state, and urban trails in Portland, Salem, Corvallis, and Eugene. Even the most ambitious creaky-kneed hiker will need years to try all these hikes!

I know I’m itching to try them myself. And thanks to Seabury Blair’s terrific new The Creaky Knees Guide Oregon, for once my brain is going to be as ready for these hikes as I think my legs are.

As I was reading the book, overlooking the ocean while sitting in front of our television-, Internet-, and cell phone signal–free cabin, it dawned on me just how different my definition of “roughing it” is to Douglas’s. Witness:

(1) For the two-night stay in our “primitive” cabin—which of course had electricity, not to mention a small kitchen with refrigerator—we packed one small suitcase, one overnight bag, one large ice chest, and three large grocery bags of provisions. (And, to be honest, a GPS tracker, two iPods, a digital camera, three books, five magazines, etc. . . .)

In contrast, for his 1826 exploration from Fort Vancouver to the inland Pacific Northwest that lasted several months, besides the clothes on his back, David Douglas packed only “one extra shirt, two handkerchiefs, a blanket, a single cloak, and no stockings at all.” His one indulgence for the journey: 100 pounds of collecting paper to preserve his samples and specimens.

(2) We spent hours preparing for our “spontaneous” campfire on the beach. This included buying a package of bratwurst, buns, corn on the cob, bottles of squeezable ketchup and mustard, paper plates and plastic cutlery, aluminum foil, skewers with extendable handles, a box of kitchen matches, a stack of newspapers as starter, and two pre-cut bundles of firewood from the general store. Despite all this, it still took me an hour to get a decent campfire going, and even with our fancy skewers, we managed to simultaneously singe and undercook our brats, not to mention both dropping our corncobs in the sand while roasting them over the fire.

By comparison, after grueling 12- or 15-hour days of crossing hard terrain, Douglas and his party were often lucky to locate a dry place to camp, and even if they didn’t, they had no choice but to find a way to start and maintain a fire if they wanted to survive the night. On a good day, they would be able to hunt game for a nourishing dinner so Douglas and crew wouldn’t have to resort to eating plant roots (not necessarily predetermined as edible) or one of his collected avian or mammalian specimens for supper. During really bad stretches in hostile terrain, the party might be forced to eat one of their horses. Corn on the cob rarely accompanied their campfires.

(3) We found a few jellyfish washed up on the beach and saw a lot of birds, trees, and a few squirrels.

Douglas identified more than 80 species of flora and fauna that now have his name (douglasii) attached to their scientific monikers, and is credited with introducing hundreds of other species to the world outside of North America.
Author Jack Nisbet
Photo by Dean Davis Photography

Obviously, these are extreme contrasts. But even the most hardcore hiker or camper will never have the opportunity to explore and experience the vast and staggering wilderness of the Pacific Northwest in the way David Douglas (and others like him) did. Jack Nisbet’s amazingly detailed and documented narrative of Douglas’s life and travels gives us an idea of exactly what it was like to see through the explorer’s eyes. We are fortunate that despite the encroachment of civilization, so much of the wilderness and natural beauty of Washington, Oregon, and British Columbia remains for us to appreciate.

But I can’t help wondering: Would David Douglas think so?

Events for Jack Nisbet, author of THE COLLECTOR

Wednesday, October 7, 7:00pm
Auntie’s Bookstore
Spokane, WA

Friday, October 23
Montana Festival of the Book

Thursday, October 29, 7:30pm
Powell’s Books (on Hawthorne Blvd)
Portland, OR

Saturday, November 7th, 1:00pm
Spokane Costco (store #66)

Sunday, November 8, 2:00pm
The Seattle Room at The Seattle Public Library (book sales by Elliott Bay)
Seattle, WA

Monday, November 9, 7:00pm
Third Place Books (Lake Forest)
Seattle, WA

Tuesday, November 10, 7:00pm
Village Books
Bellingham, WA

I’m currently oohing and aahing over the Alphabet Bird Collection, and I want to personally thank Shelli Ogilvy for checking one more name off my gift list. When I first saw the stunning art for the Alphabet Bird Collection, I had that elusive reaction every diligent gift hound constantly seeks: that moment when you come across something that immediately makes you think of the person you’re trying to buy for. It’s perfect!

From Avocet to Zone-tailed Hawk, Ogilvy introduces readers to each bird with a gorgeous, rich-hued painting, playful rhymes, interesting facts, and each bird’s song phonetically mapped on a musical scale. It’s a great combination of visual and auditory stimulus that will likely have the budding ornithologist on your list drooling…or at least “sweee-sweewee-sweee”-ing along with the Junco or “kyow-kyow-kyow”-ing with the Quetzal.

Here’s a sneak peek of my favorite bird:

Diving from the air in quick pursuit,
The Kingfisher hunts for fish or maybe a newt.

Sing along to the Kingfisher’s song:
“tshrrrR tshrre tshrrR”

Now all I have to do is ensure my three-year-old nephew doesn’t check this blog post!

P.S. If you’re like me and every gift giving opportunity induces both thoughtful reflection and anxiousness, you’ll also want to check out this gem; Shanon Lyon’s insightful Gifts with Meaning: How to Choose Unique and Thoughtful Presents for Any Occasion just might be your lifesaver and mine.