In their minds, they saw a magical outdoor space for their growing family. After six years of the couple's planting, transplanting, building and tending, visitors can see it too: a wild jungle of blooming Pride of Madeira, cascading white roses, flowering bougainvillea reaching toward the sky. Thriving vegetable gardens are filled with chard, squash, tomatoes, basil and sunflowers, some bursting from simple bales of hay and compost with eye-popping color.Then there are the animals of Skyfarm, as the couple has dubbed their home. Two dogs, three cats, one tortoise. A couple of cockatiels in an aviary, six chickens in a coop, a pet squirrel with the Spanish name Quince -- "because he is the 15th animal," Peluce says. And that's not counting the 60,000 to 90,000 bees in three hives kept by Ackerman, a sculptor and former art teacher turned amateur beekeeper.
For her, Skyfarm is where her creative energy takes flight. For Peluce, a professional photographer, it is his "decompression chamber" -- a country escape in the heart of urban L.A.
At the time Ackerman saw the classified ad, the couple was living in a loft at the Brewery industrial arts complex near downtown and were looking for an affordable house with more room. Ackerman, a New England native, pined for a garden.
They hired an inspector to look at the Lincoln Heights house, and his assessment was grim. "He assumed it was a tear-down," Peluce says. "He also told me the house was 'a marriage breaker.' But for us, it was just another adventure."
They purchased the property, their first home, in October, and moved in by December. The house was barely inhabitable, with holes in the wall, buckled floors and no hot water. Enough debris had been dumped on the property to fill the equivalent of eight railroad cars. Undaunted, the couple cooked meals on a camp stove, prompting them to call this period their "homesteading" phase.
Friends and family thought they were nuts.
"I was terrified," says Sondra Peluce, Meeno's mother, remembering her first impression of the house. "I thought they had taken leave of their senses. I actually think I went and threw up. It was like an out-of-control fun house that was not fun."
Her dismay turned to pride, however, as she watched the home's transformation over the succeeding months.
"When I saw my son hoisting railroad ties on his shoulder, I thought to myself, 'He is building an inner strength that will carry his family forever,' " she says.
Be sure to look at the slideshow of Skyfarm. Gives me ideas for what we might do in our small backyard here in Dallas. I have a feeling we're going to have chickens by this time next year. Boc-boc.
Via Reihan.


Add to Newsvine
Comments
Is that hen named 'dinner'? *chuckle*
Posted by: Karen Brown | May 30, 2008 5:01 PM
LOL!
Yeah, that's another tip - don't give a name to anything you might want to eat later.
Posted by: Mike | May 30, 2008 5:20 PM
Yeah, we had a couple of piglets picked out for butchering. Libby named them 'ham' and 'bacon'. Made it easier to not get too attached. Especially since, unlike chickens, there's no real uncertainty about their fate.
Posted by: Karen Brown | May 30, 2008 6:11 PM
Just keep in mind that this is Southern CA - and I wonder how much water they have to use to keep everything looking so lush and green.
That's one thing that pretty much disappoints me as I've been looking through garden books - there's not all that much devoted to the blistering, thunderstorm-ridden Midwest ...
Posted by: stefanie | May 31, 2008 7:31 AM
Or icy cold most of the year. Where I am now, the length of a dependable growing season is only a few months. More than four is wishful thinking, as we have had snows in May AND in September. April and October snows are downright common.
So, that leaves us 4-5, at best, for growing.
Posted by: Karen Brown | May 31, 2008 12:38 PM
Post a Comment
Are you aware of our Rules of Conduct?