I am not a fan of gloves. Granted I do live in snake/spider country and a terrible nail biter, but I cannot stand wearing gloves when I garden unless it's for something particularly gross.
Digging holes? Gloveless! Poking holes in the ground for seeds! No extra skin on these digits. Spiky thorny weeds? Yep, no gloves there too, (just grab really low at the base of the weed and there are no spikes there). Spreading bags of wet grass clippings taken from the neighbors yard? YES, I will wear gloves then. (Dude, dogs do their business there.)
Perhaps I should be nervous about the potential for black widows and brown recluses and the like. I try to remind myself of their potential bitey nastiness by looking at terrible infection laden pictures of people's limbs which were bitten, but still, I find myself chucking the gloves off sooner or later because I like to feel my dirt. I just feel so awkward in gloves, partially because my hands tend to be too tiny for most gloves around that my hands are overblown and awkwardly clown-like when I do wear them. When I talk about feeling my dirt, I mean I like to dig deep into the soil and be able to note the density and moisture content it holds. Easily pluck out grubs from earthwarms and pull the tiniest weed out with ease.
True, my hands are almost ever pervasive with specks of dirt here and there, my nails would make a manicurist cringe (Did I mentioned that I bite them too? "Ewwwww," I can hear it already from here). When I am really digging around and having to wash up a lot my hands seem to be more related to fish than humans with all the dried up scaley skin I have flaking off. Oddly enough though, my hands recover quickly, being used to such abuse and rarely do I ever find myself in enough dermal pain that I have to slather on the lotion.
Lotion! Speaking of which, if I wore gloves all the time they would make me feel so Hannibal Lector/Buffalo Bill-esque. (Sorry, twisted I know.)
(I know that there are non-leather work gloves out there, but I find those to even weirder to me, it would be so... hygienic. I'm working with dirt here, not a patient!)
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Stolen
So I have a lot of plants. Sometimes they get the best of me and sit out for days, ok, maybe weeks in their original containers until I decide I know where best to put them. Usually I leave them in the front yard by the walkway where they can get the most sun and I've never had a problem. I had been so busy and recently have been feeling ill and on top of it had an ill feeling that something was wrong/missing. The realization came to me like a bullet last night before I went to bed that my Haight-Ashby Hisbiscus was missing.
I couldn't sleep as it had been given to me as a gift and in my bathrobe I went out with a flashlight searching for it. No, no, no, not there, not there, not there. I checked again in the morning and came to the conclusion that unless the plant evolved and walked off with its newly gained legs, that plant was truly stolen.
Why couldn't the thief walk off with the dollar clearance item lily or columbine I had left out? Why not the viburnum? (probably because it was too large).
Haight-Ashbury is definitely an attractive, eye catching plant with bright pink and interestingly shaped foliage. I am not usually into annuals, non-edibles--- that are pink especially, but at the greenhouse I had mentioned this to a friend as it caught my eye with its spiky roselles and small beautiful dark burgundy flowers. Its name made me laugh and it was so fitting to be a "hippie" like flower. I had walked away from it because I didn't have more money to burn, but my friend surprised me with it as a gift.
While I am upset about the loss of this plant it perturbs me that someone has stolen from me, on my property, and just the simple meanness of it. They CHOSE to steal this one plant from me and it makes me paranoid and angry all at once. I am trying to dispel these feelings, but sometimes, humanity..... It is just a plant I know, but as with everything in my life, I see the fact and act that it was taken as just another representative of "bad things" about people to depress me about. Shake it off, shake it off.
Walking with my husband today morning, in mourning, I thought to myself, well, if anyone stole it to give it to their mom for Mother's Day recently at least someone's mother would be happy with such an interesting plant.
She damn well better treat it right.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Duck tales, woohooo!
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It is not known how long the struggle has gone on, but the saga of the brown ducks, white ducks and geese in the park is epic and so bizarrely parable-esque, you might think that I am reading WAY too deeply into nature and its designs or that I am just loony.
When my husband and I first moved here, there was a small population of brown ducks and larger number of white ducks. The white ducks would always harass the brown ducks, chasing them to no end around the pond until they drove the brown ducks out of the water onto the land or til the brown ducks flew off. The only reason I could imagine the white ducks being so territorial was because that was just their nature, or it was a food issue.
After a while, due to unknown reason, but quite possibly due to human intervention involving lots of bread and/or corn being fed to them/we suspect that all the white ducks are male, the brown ducks started making babies. LOTS of the babies, until the brown ducks out numbered the white ducks about 8:1.
The white ducks were getting pretty antsy about this now and couldn't harass the brown ducks too easily there were simply too many of them, not like the brown ducks ever countered back at the white ducks anyway (maybe there was a Gandhi duck).
At some point, it was rumored that one of the white ducks got hit in the head by a rock thrown from a mean spirited kid and went a little "weird" and began to get harassed by the white ducks. Out of fear, the injured white duck began hanging with the brown ones (I'd like to repeat, that I am not making this story up). The white duck specifically would swim with a brown male and female pair and actually took it upon itself to defend the pair when the white ducks got uppity with the brown ducks.
Lately I haven't seen the trio, and most of the brown ducks have flown since winter, but now a flock of big ol' Canadian geese have come to the lake and are acting pretty tough towards the white ducks.
All I've been able to hear in my head when I see the 2 groups square off is the "Jet's Song" from West Side Story.
I also have been thinking that I ought to take this tale mainstream and write a children's storybook.
It is not known how long the struggle has gone on, but the saga of the brown ducks, white ducks and geese in the park is epic and so bizarrely parable-esque, you might think that I am reading WAY too deeply into nature and its designs or that I am just loony.
When my husband and I first moved here, there was a small population of brown ducks and larger number of white ducks. The white ducks would always harass the brown ducks, chasing them to no end around the pond until they drove the brown ducks out of the water onto the land or til the brown ducks flew off. The only reason I could imagine the white ducks being so territorial was because that was just their nature, or it was a food issue.
After a while, due to unknown reason, but quite possibly due to human intervention involving lots of bread and/or corn being fed to them/we suspect that all the white ducks are male, the brown ducks started making babies. LOTS of the babies, until the brown ducks out numbered the white ducks about 8:1.
The white ducks were getting pretty antsy about this now and couldn't harass the brown ducks too easily there were simply too many of them, not like the brown ducks ever countered back at the white ducks anyway (maybe there was a Gandhi duck).
At some point, it was rumored that one of the white ducks got hit in the head by a rock thrown from a mean spirited kid and went a little "weird" and began to get harassed by the white ducks. Out of fear, the injured white duck began hanging with the brown ones (I'd like to repeat, that I am not making this story up). The white duck specifically would swim with a brown male and female pair and actually took it upon itself to defend the pair when the white ducks got uppity with the brown ducks.
Lately I haven't seen the trio, and most of the brown ducks have flown since winter, but now a flock of big ol' Canadian geese have come to the lake and are acting pretty tough towards the white ducks.
All I've been able to hear in my head when I see the 2 groups square off is the "Jet's Song" from West Side Story.
I also have been thinking that I ought to take this tale mainstream and write a children's storybook.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Shoes, OMG, shoes
It seems as of late that the only shoes I wear are my sneakers (rare) and my gardening boots. This may seem silly but after wearing out 2 pairs of boots, killing the zipper a couple of times on one pair and essentially getting fed up having to lace, unlace, and then re-lace a pair of timberland boots that I had since I was 16. I finally got fed up and went a-researching. After some good leads I finally came upon a brand called Bogs and wanted some simple plain boots, but the cheapest one available (50% off original price!) ended up being brown w/a funky floral pattern (ironically, I’m not really a flowery girl) on Sierra Trading Post (with extra 20% off coupon of course, take that shipping,! score! )
After they came in the mail I found the floral pattern to not be so bad and especially began to like them when I toughed them in and the floral pattern melted in with the caked on dirt a bit. Then the compliments came. First from the nursery, then at every landscaping store I went to, women who worked in the garden centers would comment on how cute the boots were, where could they get them, etc.
I started getting mighty proud of my bootiness and began wearing them EVERYWHERE, especially after rainy days, when there was the slightest bit of dew on the ground (neoprene construction!), on my walks with the dog because my tired self was glad that I could simply PULL my boots up rather than have to lace, relace, and then kick my shoes off.
Yes, it is love. Of course I’ve been wearing the love out from use and abuse, but the Bogs forgive me and I have not betrayed them yet though a replacement is in the mail now after a honeymoon year, for the Bogs website (http://www.bogsfootwear.com) has closeouts I have found I should troll and treasure o’gold people, I am blessed with tiny Asian feet (wide and ducky shaped, by the way, no binding ever touched these tootsies that’s for sure) and the closeout section pretty much only had Bogs on sale in my size (with free shipping too! I tingle with cheap pleasure). Now that I am used to a style that’s not so plain, I decided on their rockin’ ‘Autumn’ leaves style, which is a little too bright until I can smear a bit of dirt on it. Hopefully my original Bogs can hold out for another year before I have to break in the new girls
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The attraction to all things thorny
As I am attempting to add to my garden more “Methesulah” type plants (those that produce forever), the idea of artichokes caught my eye. As some of you may have been able to ascertain, I am not the most patient girl in the world and so I got really giddy which I heard of the Imperial Star artichoke variety that produces fruit in its first year.
Unfortunately I had to nix the idea due to lack of room/planning for a plant that gets that big. I was more saddened by the fact that I would not get to run around the yard chasing my husband with a big thorny ended stick.
Now the question is, why do I really want to grow artichokes? Answer: obviously because I like violence. No! I am really a peace loving person! I have contemplated growing patchouli in the herb garden!
Run free my plants!
For a while I was on the cuff as to whether or not I wanted to start an asparagus bed because my research showed that it took SO LONG (3 years to be precise) before you could even start harvesting. Luckily they do sell 2 years old and 3 year old asparagus plants, but I heard that the 3 year olds were not so great and were of very little difference in growth compared to the 2 year old plants (other than the exorbitant price hike).
The lure of plants that could provide me with 30 years (or more!) of harvests and fact that Gurneys does “buy one set, get one free” was too great of deal that we bit. Naturally I was bored and poked at the plants for the first year, scowling at the tiny q-tip thin fronds that came up the first year, but this year, yes, their older brothers have arrived (I am not anti-sister, sisters, I just have male plants, dig it?)
Despite not a huge harvest (potentially due to the fast we had to move the plants and their massive root systems elsewhere earlier in the year because the spot they were in was not good), we’ve gotten a good number of thumb-thick stalks and are lovin’ it. Take that McDonalds. (Dear lard, I just imagined Mickey D’s deep frying asparagus now and serving it in little cardboard boxes!)
Speaking of Gurney’s, this is the same supplier that enticed me with their “buy one, get one free!” strawberry plants. I foolishly did not plant them in a raised bed and they escaped, scampering their way underneath the fence into my neighbor’s backyard and the park. It’s somewhat amusing to see the plants meandering along the fence (they won’t do well I suspect because there is little light there with the huge trees and all, but still, they survive!) Nothing tastes better than Houdini produce.
The lure of plants that could provide me with 30 years (or more!) of harvests and fact that Gurneys does “buy one set, get one free” was too great of deal that we bit. Naturally I was bored and poked at the plants for the first year, scowling at the tiny q-tip thin fronds that came up the first year, but this year, yes, their older brothers have arrived (I am not anti-sister, sisters, I just have male plants, dig it?)
Despite not a huge harvest (potentially due to the fast we had to move the plants and their massive root systems elsewhere earlier in the year because the spot they were in was not good), we’ve gotten a good number of thumb-thick stalks and are lovin’ it. Take that McDonalds. (Dear lard, I just imagined Mickey D’s deep frying asparagus now and serving it in little cardboard boxes!)
Speaking of Gurney’s, this is the same supplier that enticed me with their “buy one, get one free!” strawberry plants. I foolishly did not plant them in a raised bed and they escaped, scampering their way underneath the fence into my neighbor’s backyard and the park. It’s somewhat amusing to see the plants meandering along the fence (they won’t do well I suspect because there is little light there with the huge trees and all, but still, they survive!) Nothing tastes better than Houdini produce.
Peas off
Early in this year (warm day in February) I planted pea seeds because I heard that they are pretty cold hardy and you could plant when the ground was workable. Apparently what I think is workable is not the official gardening definition of workable. But baby, I did work it. I was full of excitement, planting the various garden, sugar, snow and etc peas here and there, some on one side of the trellis, others on the other side and lovingly covered them up and went my way.
Some days later I was listening to NPR and they were singing the praises of advances in the understanding of genetics and Gregor Mendel. At his name, something twinged in me. I felt myself transported to some point in fifth grade…I saw the squares and the capitalized and lower case letters flash before mine stupid eyes when the realization dawned that I would not be getting the expected snow/sugar/garden peas. My peas would be miscegenating! I did a mini scream in the car when this occurred and smacked my forehead a few times. Before deciding that there could be worse surprises.
Some days later I was listening to NPR and they were singing the praises of advances in the understanding of genetics and Gregor Mendel. At his name, something twinged in me. I felt myself transported to some point in fifth grade…I saw the squares and the capitalized and lower case letters flash before mine stupid eyes when the realization dawned that I would not be getting the expected snow/sugar/garden peas. My peas would be miscegenating! I did a mini scream in the car when this occurred and smacked my forehead a few times. Before deciding that there could be worse surprises.
Shiso Fine
sSo I have this plant called Shiso, Purple Perilla, Beefsteak plant, what have you, and it’s lovely. Except for the fact that it is, shall we say, a rolling stone? It’s actually quite funny, I had previously bought Shiso seeds prior to attaining this plant, with the thought of some exotic herb growing in my garden. I never saw one seedling come up from it and was not very happy, cursing the lack of the exotic to my garden. Since I was not so quite up to date in the gardening world (aka, did not research/was not observative) I did not notice the striking similarities between the Botanical Interests packet’s lovely, artistic rendition to my real live Perilla plant.
The perilla/shiso/beefsteak plant got huge and I separated it, moved bits and pieces of it around, pulled it up and moved and its various selves to approximately 80 different locations in my yard. Little did I know that that was not enough for my little Shiso. She is so everywhere. In the garden path (HOW?) ALL around the raised bed my husband and I made around the tree (she was only in 3 different places too!) Admittedly the purple, green, gray seedlings do look great with the Japanese painted lady fern and the other various coincidental purple flowers that sprung up around it, but have mercy… my perilla from last year got to be at least a foot and a half tall from one plant. And now I have literally hundreds of them everywhere.
I have been doing great amounts of research into what I can cook these into, from pesto to wrapping them around meat bits. (why do I always seem to write double entendres? Better yet, why don’t I edit them out?)
So, hey, if anyone wants to horror/glory of this plant, please, contact me. I have a few to spare.
The perilla/shiso/beefsteak plant got huge and I separated it, moved bits and pieces of it around, pulled it up and moved and its various selves to approximately 80 different locations in my yard. Little did I know that that was not enough for my little Shiso. She is so everywhere. In the garden path (HOW?) ALL around the raised bed my husband and I made around the tree (she was only in 3 different places too!) Admittedly the purple, green, gray seedlings do look great with the Japanese painted lady fern and the other various coincidental purple flowers that sprung up around it, but have mercy… my perilla from last year got to be at least a foot and a half tall from one plant. And now I have literally hundreds of them everywhere.
I have been doing great amounts of research into what I can cook these into, from pesto to wrapping them around meat bits. (why do I always seem to write double entendres? Better yet, why don’t I edit them out?)
So, hey, if anyone wants to horror/glory of this plant, please, contact me. I have a few to spare.
Take that frost date
I have been making the effort to grow most everything by seeds since it’s cheaper and my husband and I enjoy pretending we are old Depression era souls. Growing by seed is a labor intensive and not so labor intensive process all at the same time because sometimes you’ve got seeds like peas and mustard and beans which means you just chuck them in the ground when it’s warm enough and it’s like, poof! there’ s a plant. Other seeds, I think I’ve learned it’s better to start ahead because you want the delicious faster and sometimes those plants need to be big and strong when they are put out in the garden to combat the toils of Memphis’s crazed weather. It’s like Mother Nature is on crack here and you just can’t predict what she’ll do next. So some of your babies are delicate and need the abuse of a personal gardener such as yourself before MN (and the monster bugs) can get a whack at them.
Most of the time I can be super dumb and decide to seed start early indoors because I NEED to see something potentially delicious growing during the chill of winter and the dream of home grown food can sustain me whilst I stroke my deer foot fern like the cat of a crazed evil doer commonly depicted in movies. (I have heard that ferns are edible, esp their fiddleheads, but I still have yet to go there. If I started eating the ones I have there would be no ferns left. Do you any idea how long some ferns take to grow?!? If only that cinnamon fern tasted like cinnamon and if that Japanese painted lady tasted like…. Just kidding).
Luckily once the season gets warm enough and I have decided that M.N. isn’t looking, I tend to plant in say….. the warmest day in February (that was one beautiful 80 degree Fahrenheit day by the way this year) only to find out (because I am the best gardener ever) that it was going to rain, potentially hail and freeze over several times over the next day. I decided that the seeds, screw it, they’re cheap, if they live, they live, if they don’t, I just notched more points on the experience-o-meter. Not only did some live (even the tender nasturtiums!) through the freezes through my covering up efforts, I got peas and some veggies in late March! Booyashaka to you naysayers, you, “doom to all who plant before April 15thers!” I grew the delicious! It’s done and will proceed with regular programming!
Already, April 23, my bean plants are sprouting their tender necks above the soil rim, my strawberries are showing the beginnings of green berries and the asparagus, it’s been producing and I’ve been whacking it. That sounded wrong, but hey, life is good and growing.
Hey, wow, nearly a year anniversary because I can'tkeep up with blogs!
So, here I am... trying to do a gardening blog thing yet again, but now, I am a lady on a mission. I have written *gasp* an article on gardening and I figure I get way too zealous gardening that I can't keep it to myself, so in a frenzy I wrote some mini blogs one day. Enjoy! (Hopefully I can keep this up)
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