“The days of visitation are come, the days of recompense are come; Israel shall know it: the prophet is a fool, the man that hath the spirit is mad, for the abundance of thine iniquity, and because the enmity is great.” (Hosea 9:7, The Bible, American Standard Version).

At the time the Violent Femmes’s song “Hallowed Ground” released in 1984 with snippets from Hosea 9:7, September 11th, global warming, and the WASL made no sense — instead folks lamented strife of a similar flavor — Lebanon, AIDS and the debut of Harry Anderson’s Night Court.



But as the song suggested, every man has an island:



“No matter what they decide to have done.

Burn up the clouds, block out the sun.

My hope is in one they can’t bring down.

My soul is in hallowed ground.”

– Gordon Gano



Time has changed, but not the times. Such a spiritual place, a respite from war, economic uncertainty and silliness exists — and locally, it’s found in Olympia. Consider it, if you will, an Olympia “bed and breakfast on probiotics,” opened in 2000 and known as Fertile Ground.

Bed and breakfast barely describes the house at 311 Ninth Ave. S.E. literally encompassing two lots in the shadow of state government, down the street from the Olympia Post Office. Better words include heirloom hospitality, organic optimism, and community contribution.



The 1908 Craftsman-style house knows how to serve — it took in boarders during the Depression, and then from 1988-1998 housed college students. But after Gail Di Marzo, her husband, Michael, and Karen Nelson bought the home, what was service became something much deeper, as if the “days of recompense” have come for us all.

Where to start?

While the majority of Fertile Ground’s lodgers arrive as parents of Evergreen State College students, anyone with an earthy appreciation for sustainability, whether physically or spiritually, can appreciate the place.



Take, for example, the first steps onto the property — they speak volumes. Known up and down the street as the Pedestrian Food Corridor, Gail invites neighbors to pick from the cherry and peach trees, the blackberry, current and golden raspberry bushes, and the strawberry plants lining the sidewalks and spilling out from the small front yard. The old adage fences make good neighbors needs re-working here; better changed to “food makes lasting friends” — in this life and the next.



Amanda Farrell knew that. An Evergreen student, she lived near Fertile Ground and enjoyed picking the fruits. Gail served as her surrogate mother, especially when schizophrenia grabbed hold of Amanda. Gail kept Amada’s parents back in New York City up to date on their daughter’s condition, and when Amanda passed away following a tragic car accident, 12 tiger lilies were planted in the Corridor under half of Amanda’s ashes (the other half flown back to New York). Today, a sign Gail erected states the Corridor is dedicated to Amanda “who also liked to eat our food without asking.”

Preparing for the End of the World

Gail and Karen opened a multi-media Web design business in 1996 after Gail arrived in Olympia from Corvallis, Ore. They bought the house on Ninth two years later in a fashion Hosea might appreciate. As the end of the 20th century loomed, they thought their home could make excellent hollowed ground for an Y2K implosion of sorts.



“We almost wanted Y2K to happen,” Gail laughs. “We thought downtown Olympia was a perfect place to be for the end of the world — we could be self-sufficient and close to whatever we needed.”



A “prophet of doom,“ Hosea might have made the perfect first guest. After breakfast he could have walked the streets of Olympia warning the Samarians (or insert your more contemporary choice of doomed individuals here) to repent before it was too late, then pick dinner out of the Fertile Ground’s organic gardens before retiring upstairs to finish his memoirs.



Slightly disappointed on January 1, 2000, what Gail and Karen thought might be a soup kitchen when the electricity went out permanently, turned into a B&B where a front porch light after eight years still welcomes guests seven days a week. They, however, maintained their “green” and “community” goals — they serve organic, locally sustained meals, offer composting toilets, serve as a Community Supported Agriculture pick-up location, welcome children, and recycle everything.

In 2005, they added a nonprofit Fertile Ground Community Center on site and now host art classes for children, as well as community gatherings Saturday nights around their outdoor pizza oven. Groups rent the gardens packing in as many as 100+ people. For $80, Gail supplies the plates, cups, cheese, sauce and the large clay-baked oven she and Karen built — the dough and toppings are on you. Lights twinkle above the lush space like stars from a heavenly place next to thick bamboo rising from the mossy earth.

“The gardens just aren’t alive until they are full of people,” Gail says. “It just makes no sense to let them stay empty.”

The most important meal of the day

Gail mans the kitchen, Karen keeps the books and Michael handles the chores.

On the morning of my visit, Gail served what she dubbed Polenta Pile – circles of polenta topped with organic cheddar cheese, shitake mushrooms, sweet peppers, spinach and scrambled eggs, served alongside rosemary French bread Gail bakes in her quaint kitchen overlooking the garden.



“We try to put something we grow here into every meal,” Gail tells me as she assembles breakfast for two couples that stayed the night. The rest of the ingredients come from local farmers at the Olympia Farmer’s Market.



Gail loves making breakfast — she calls it her fetish.



“When I got married I had a morning ceremony so I could serve breakfast at the reception,” she adds.



She bounces between egg dishes and grain dishes throughout the week, making exceptions for Vegans or those with allergies.



“The hospitality part of running a B&B fits me,” Gail adds. “I am curious of all people — that comes naturally, and people sense that when you are actually interested in them.”

Currently Gail, Michael and Karen are between chickens — Loose Lucy, Forest and Fatty Dum Dum were stolen from this world by a raccoon recently — taking their supply of fresh eggs with them.



I suppose Hosea or even the Violent Femmes might have something to say about these unlucky creatures — maybe that even in paradise God has a will. Regardless, I can’t think of a better place to ride out our tumultuous times, eating strawberries in Amanda’s honor, hoping she and Dum Dum are looking down from their places in the universe keeping this little hallowed ground just that for many years to come.



For reservations, go to: www.fertileground.org/rooms.html.

Rates run roughly $90-$110 a night. Call 360.352.2428 for more information.