So, I am a city girl. I was born and raised in Chicago. Growing up, my family always lived in apartment complexes with lawn signs that glared at me "KEEP OFF GRASS". One property manager whose name was Stanley used to watch us neighborhood children at play with a hawk-like precision. If we dared to step on the lawn we would most certainly hear in a heavy Assyrian (I know it's not a language) accent "Geet off the grrrass or I keek your ass!" In retrospect, I'm sure he had more than enough of his fill of rowdy little children trampling the pristine grass in the apartment complex that sat behind the Venture (anyone remember that department store?!?).
But as a city girl, I always dreamed one day, I would have a garden. A beautifully lush garden that I would tend. I would look like those dainty gardening women in the Miracle Gro commercials. I was going to have a gardening hat and white gardening gloves with tiny rose-colored flowers on them. I would have a pair of small garden shears and I would prune back my rose bushes while kneeling on my foam knee-pad. My countenance would be as sunny as it was outside and I would retreat to my residence occasionally to refresh myself with a cool beverage (never water, always lemonade).
I held onto that fantasy until a year ago when we rented our first home. 3802 rests on a lot of land that is approximately 1.5 acres. Moving from our smaller apartment, we did not know what we were getting into. The house came with 4 large flower beds; 2 in front and 2 in back. I also decided I was going to have a vegetable and herb garden. This land kicked my butt!
No one told me how hard it is! When we were finalizing the rental agreement with the owner, I was telling my students (at the time I worked up north in the country) about how much land we had and they inquired if we owned a zero turn mower. I naively asked "What's that? I'm from Chicago!" (that's my blanket answer for all things foreign and country to me). A roar of laughter permeated my classroom and the condescending questions ensued.
"You don't know what a zero turn mower is?!?"
"No. Why would I know? I'm from Chicago! I could've cut the patch of grass in front of our apartment with a pair of office scissors!"
"Bwaaaaaaahaaahaaaa!!!!!!!"
They laughed because they knew the fate that awaited me. I was clueless. If we're being honest with one another, I still am. I Google ALL of my "garden" questions and believe me, I have plenty! Last year was a test run; a season of not only gleaning food but knowledge. This is what I learned:
I need a zero turn mower almost as desperately as I need water to survive on this property
The push mower ain't cuttin' it. I tried to do it once and it took me almost 3 hours and a near E.R. trip because of the asthma attack that ensued after.
Weeds are an evil gift from hell to torture and maim my already bad back
My fantasy was a cushy knee pad. No one said anything about the fact I'd be on my hands and knees! I used to love to see my boys pick up a dandylion and blow the seeds in the wind. Now, I'm like "Stop it! Stop it right now! We'll have those things all over the place!!!"
Pickup trucks are a necessity (especially when hauling massive quantities of dirt and mulch)
Being a city girl, I never understood why you would purchase a vehicle that only had the capacity for three people to sit in it. But now I know why. People who buy dirt and mulch in bags do so for 1 of 2 reasons:
a. they don't own a pickup truck with a bed
b. they don't have a friend who owns a pickup truck with a bed
The pickup truck bed is a priceless asset. You can move dirt, or a washer and dryer; in both cases allowing you and me, the consumer to save on our purchases by avoiding markups for plastic packaging and delivery fees.
Gardening is a humbling battle not a leisure activity
I have bled, swelled, stopped breathing (because of asthma issues), pulled muscles, gotten splinters, cracked and dry hands, been chased by bees, stalked by a garden snake, and been afflicted with weird and mysterious rashes while "gardening". No no. It needs a new name like "Brazilian Garden-Jitsu". I burned over 1000 calories in the garden yesterday!!!! Since the beginning of the gardening season, I've lost 10lbs! I use an old pair of my husband's fire-gloves (don't ask me the proper name for them) to garden in. I have a smelly pair of running shoes instead of beautiful garden clogs and horrible tan lines on my back (who has the patience to deal with a floppy hat when you're snatching up grub and pulling weeds?).
The harvest tastes more delicious than anything I've ever bought in the grocery store
There something about laboring over your food that makes you savor and appreciate every leaf, seed, and stalk. My food is precious. We are blessed to live in a country where there is an abundance and I do not want to take that for granted. I try to compost and reuse every bit of yard/garden refuse I can find a use for.
Truly I love this gardening thing. I remember how elated I was when my first yield of tomatoes came in. I was in awe that something that started out no bigger than the tip of a pen could grow into a beautiful, vibrant EDIBLE creation! I truly reverted that day to my 10 year old self, as I was parading my tomatoes around the house in a silver colander, desiring to eat them slowly as to savor each scrumptious bite. There is something so satisfying about looking at the harvest and saying "I did that and it's good to me."
This year has been better. I knew what to expect. I learned from my mistakes, and kinda like childbirth, once it's all over and done with, you forget how laborious it was. The same happened this year. I decided to reshape my flower beds in front. Lots of work and I found out one of my beds rested on top of a concrete slab. Horrible! In homage to being a city girl, I added a funky pathway on the side of our home using materials found on the property and got some free "tire planters" from the local tire repair shop. I put wildflowers in the tires and the industrial-ness of that little walkway full of rubber and brick, rocks and wood, reminds me of home; bare and hard with strategic sprays of foliage to keep adults sane and little kids dreaming of patches of land, straw hats, dainty gloves, and pretty potted flowers.
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