My sister, who would probably enjoy growing vegetables, and who had actually begun experimenting with container gardening before baby Emmy and her shining smile came along and changed our lives forever, sent me a thought-provoking e-mail. Here's an excerpt:
I've been thinking lately about your gardening too. what do you think it is that you like so much? Like, you said yourself in a post a while back that you get obsessed with ideas and then go fully into it, but sometimes they don't last. So why do you think gardening has lasted? What do you find so fulfilling? You're much, much better at this, but you don't really eat vegetables, you hate bugs, for a while you hated being sweaty...what gives? :) Write a post on that!
Dear Sister,
You're right, I generally do not like vegetables, fully hate bugs, and it's fair to say that I don't like to sweat. But I've gotten much better not just about the veggies, but also the bugs and the sweating.
It's true I don't like veggies. Remember when our mother would make me sit at the dinner table in front of a plate of greens, all alone after everyone was done eating? She'd be washing dishes, threatening all kinds of malice if I didn't eat my greens? Remember how I'd be in tears at the texture of peas? Remember how I'd gag on the taste of mushrooms? Well, maybe not because you'd eaten your vegetables and were gone. Well, I was scarred. Despite these early traumatic dinner table incidents, I've acquired a taste for certain vegetables (avocado, beans, artichokes, baby spinach). Sure they sort of just cross the line into the category of vegetables, and some aren't even real vegetables, but you know. It's been rough. Guess what though? In the past few years, since I've been gardening, I've acquired a taste for edamame, butternut squash (only if it's in soup), tomatoes (only served certain ways or I'll start gagging - and I can't eat any seeds), and this year...get this...I tried some asparagus for the first time!!! It was really good! But then again, I was really hungry, I only ate one spear, and it was purple. I think I'd have to build up some serious reserves to eat green ones. You'll still never catch me eating broccoli, peas, green beans, etc. However, even though I don't eat it all, there are many veggies that are fun to grow, and the health benefits of growing organic produce picked minutes before cooking makes vegetable gardening very fulfilling. As long as my kids keeps falling for the, "Oh, mommy has already eaten her portion while she was cooking", it should all work out. Check it out...the weekend's harvest - wouldn't you feel fulfilled?
Here's my oregano. It's next to the thyme and basil. I used to grow a larger variety of herbs, but these are the three I use most in my cooking. Having fresh herbs means I can cook more creatively, and think beyond the
usuals I feed my family. Also, since I've started gardening, I've found that we eat and think more seasonally, and it's wonderful to sort of mark time in this way. It's fall - it's getting cold. The leaves are changing. The bowl of butternut-leek soup with some crusty French bread is going to feel really nice this weekend...
Sister, you and I both - we despise those bugs. I'll be honest in saying that in an afternoon's gardening, I labor away silently, pausing from time to time only to curse aloud at the bugs. Here are the bugs on my most (
un)wanted list: the
boxelder, the
roly-poly, the slug, the flea beetle, the aphid, and my newest nemesis - the grub. Then of course, are the ones in the "scary"
category: the stinkbug, the cicada, the praying mantis, the tomato
hornworm. I have no appreciation for bugs. I realize their importance in ecology, but every bug I stop to observe, morbidly fascinated by, I find to be ugly, disgusting, or a nuisance. My belief in karma is the only thing that keeps me from
smooshing every bug I see, beneficial or non-beneficial to the gardener. But here's the reality - you dig in the dirt, you find bugs. Over the years, I've become less frightened of bugs, because I've learned a little about their habits. A spider is more afraid of me than I am of it. A horrible looking cicada - is often just the shell of a horrible looking cicada. Ultimately, I have probably become a bit jaded by and less fearful of the bugs, and have learned to just allow them to live. The dirt belongs more to them than to me, I suppose. I guess we've reached an understanding. If they don't crawl on my neck, they don't get
smooshed. If they don't crawl on my hand, they don't get flung across the yard. And worms? Well, we're on real friendly terms right now. A lot of garden
bloggers I know are big on bugs. They have sniper-like camera lenses and eyes like hawks. Part of my survival strategy is that I really don't look too closely for bugs. I did spy this guy this weekend, and nearly had a heart attack in fear that it'd jump on me as I took this photo... So do I like it? No. Is it disgusting and scary? A thousand times yes. Does it keep me from spending time in my garden? See photos above.
I generally don't like to sweat, sister, you're right. I don't like being sticky. I hate humidity. I don't like my face to grease up. I don't like to walk around town hot. Sweating has always gone hand in hand with being tired and cranky. And if I can't get my hands on a
frappucino, then
there will be hell to pay by anyone who gets in my way. In the garden, it's different.
While I would really enjoy some easy strolling in the garden, shears in hand deadheading some pretty flowers, then enjoying some relaxing on a lounge chair under an umbrella, I truly enjoy working, and doing hard physical labor (remember my landscaping project?). Perhaps this will change if I ever get my garden to look just-so, but somehow I doubt this will ever happen. My friend Grace has mentioned that I move my plants around a lot. Very little has stayed where it originally was several years ago. I have new ideas to try, new plants to try, new beds to build, and so far I've expanded the perennial garden every year. Here is my work from this weekend - expanding the perennial garden. It was a cool-weathered weekend, but I was still sweating for hours. I've found a few strategies work for me though - the
bandana thingy with the gel inside that you soak in water (that we got in Denver) really helps on extremely hot (like black-out inducing) days. A
bandana or wrist band helps mop the sweat that threatens to blind me under the hot sun, and making an effort to go inside and drink water is really important.
So dear sister, let's just talk about this photo, and you'll understand why gardening is so fulfilling for me. It may look silly now with a bunch of baby plants, but this garden will look great when the plants are established. I will get to walk
through a garden every day. I will get to closely examine the
sedum. I will get to touch the lamb's ear. I will get to catch the fragrance of the roses and oriental lilies. I will get to awe at the delphinium. I will get to appreciate every day, a clematis that is shamelessly beautiful. This weekend, I worked about 5 hours on Saturday and 5 hours on Sunday - stripping sod, moving it to another location, digging through clay and removing rocks, mixing in the compost, planting, and mulching. I was covered in dirt, probably had bugs in my hair, and sweat my ass off. But you know what? It felt really fulfilling.
