This is the first time I am gardening alone. Two years ago, and going back 15 years previous, I had a partner with whom I created this garden and every garden that came before.
As I begin turning the soil, it is as if I am exhuming the memories. Breaking up the clods and reveling forgotten bulbs, I am reminded of the songs we sang and the plans we made here. Almost as if the memories themselves were planted here. I turn them back under tenderly and prepare the place for new seeds.
Last season I did not garden at all, I did not even set foot back here. The yard grew wild, shaggy and feral, all thorns, barbs and snares. Now we are slowly getting re-acquainted and finding how we fit together in this new arrangement, and in doing so I am falling in love with gardening all over again.
The peas are in, sewn along the south fence. I managed to slip them in between the rain and snow and other storms and adverse situations we have had of late. Roma tomatoes starts are growing large in my kitchen window, and bell peppers have begun to emerge next to them. I'm thinking I am going to need to buy broccoli starts, as mine are spindly and annimic for want of a warm spot in the garden. Poor things just didn't get enough sun in the window
I am regretting, just a little, not going with my very ambitious inclination to create an elaborate, swirly, permaculture inspired garden design. Instead I am following, more or less, the layout that was there before: long straight East-West rows. Not as interesting, but infinitely more manageable, and thats the thing: I really need this garden underway, and for it to be bountiful, as W keeps cutting my Financial Aid and raising the interest on my student loans --I would love to see he and Laura try to make ends-meet on my budget!
If things go as planned, this will be the largest garden I have ever tended, although weather and my school schedule have thrown a wrench into the plans and delayed progress. When I headed into the garden Saturday morning, the weather report indicated sunny skies for most of the rest of the week, and with that the possibility of getting the beds turned and the plants in seemed almost doable. When I cam in last night, covered in soil and scratches, and tuned into the weather report I got the update: it now looks like I only have till Tuesday night! So I better get back out there.
2 comments:
Why don't you ask your son to help? Yes, solo gardening can be an almost religious experience, but gardening with children is even better. As long as you don't make it a chore, they love it. This year my children will each have their own little plot.
I have been trying to involve my son, who was somehow born with an aversion to gardening, despite coming from a long line of gardeners on both sides (sigh), perhaps it skips generations.
He did have fun growing carrots in his own little plot in the front yard the year before last, and this year I am trying to entice him with visions of making our own pasta sauces from the ingredients we grown --he is a self described "non-stop pasta fan"
Post a Comment