Winter Love- and it's slow demise

To any who knows me, it's no secret that I love winter. There is something so clean about glistening white coating everything, diamond flecks sparkling in the air provides a feast for the eyes while inhaling the crisp, fresh air is invigoration of purest form. In winter the world is so quiet that one can nearly hear the whisper of snow hitting the ground through the hush. 

Then there are the raging storms; when icy beasts rage and shake our homes, clawing for entrance while washing the rest of the world away in blasts of arctic white. It is so exciting to be part of! 

The entire season is just sublime. 

It's why I choose to live where I do, in the northeast US on the shores of Lake Ontario, where 100 inches of snow a winter is not uncommon, where winter can start in October and end around May, if it so chooses. To hell with those pesky Solar Holidays that say when season ends or begins. Old Man Winter and Mother Nature relish their affair, and sometimes like to drag it out as long as possible.

Not everyone shares my enthusiasm. I tend to tell them to just move to warmers climes but that isn't usually a well received idea. Somewhere after the desire for a Bing-style white Christmas fades the Joy of the Season turns into a vicious hunt for Old Man Winter with the desire to soak the pristine white with his (I like to think) pale blue blood. The previous magical nature of frosty windows now incites rioters armed with snow shovels, bb-like rock salt, and the grinding, mangling blades of snow-blowers. 

I have a list of suspects, but I believe the police are protecting them.

As the seeds I planted in the basement greenhouse sprout, some already proudly showing off their first leaves, I am anxious to get outside and work the soil. I have plans, oh so many plans, that involve hacking the hell out of my front yard until it almost doesn't exist anymore- in its place will be a lovely garden of leafy greens and herbs...only if...

The ground thaws out. Even on days when the sun is shining and it looks like their might be a thaw, the earth is frozen not more than an inch down, making it quite impossible to turn and amend. To keep myself from falling in line with the winter haters, or despairing with those melancholy struck souls, here is what I remind myself of:

Winter helps our gardens.

1. This winter we have had over 110" of snow. When it melts and runs off, it will be fortifying our water reserves, meaning no water bans for us unless we are struck by a prolonged, incredibly hot drought. Unlike a few years ago when we had a winter so mild that people celebrated Christmas outside, and Valentine's Day was a too warm 70*F.  Later that summer, we had water bans and restrictions. Crops on large farms suffered, home gardeners were helpless as we watched our hopes wilt and dry into brown crumbles. Vegetable prices skyrocketed. A "real" winter could have helped with all of that.

2. Snow keeps the ground frost free. Here's an interesting one, right?  Frost, the sudden freezing of moisture due to a drop in temperature is kept at bay by flakes of frozen water. Too many frosts, especially early in the season, can kill perennials. Two years ago, 2012, the fruit tree blossoms were out and the air hung thick with their sweet scent. Then one night, a frost. A biting horrible frost. Farmers and Gardeners alike ran to check the crops only to find wilted, sad blooms that dropped from the trees when a mere whisper crossed their limp petals. It. Was. Heartbreaking. That year, tree fruit prices jacked up as the production was low. Some farms lost over 50% of their anticipated crop to a single frost. Out of 3 fruit trees, I was able to save one apple. That's it. I will tell you, it was the sweetest apple I've ever eaten though. 
What's snow got to do with it?  Snow is 32*F. It acts as an insulation against that ice coating and can literally save a plant. 
AND a late winter actually reduces the chances of an early bloom, thus averting another frost induced crop loss like 2012. Those mid-February warm ups can trick nature into coming out to play too early. That's when Jack Frost will strike, his icy nails biting into our precious plants and dragging them to their cold graves.

3. The cold keeps bugs at bay. Those stingers we all love to hate- wasps, hornets, yellow jackets, etc. die off in winter. It also kills off Japanese Beetles, the larvae of the dastardly Ash Borers, Cucumber Beetles, slugs, etc.  All of those itty-bitty pests that do not help our crops will be knocked back in populations quite a bit.  Mild winters result in a higher percentage of these buggers. The mild winters of the past three years are part of why we see those purple tents (traps) hanging in Ash trees as we drive along country roads. Less larvae surviving winter equals a much better bounty for us.

Cucumber Beetles...if only they were as tasty as their name.

4. Speaking of pests, there are also invasive plants that are kept at bay thanks to the freezing cold. The warmer the winter the faster the recovery of invaders like cleavers (which are also a medicinal herb) which can choke the life right out of our desired plants. Prolonged cold will freeze some of those rhizome spreaders in their tracts, and while not stopping them, sometimes slowing them down is just what we need to control them.

5. My favorite reason- some plants benefit from a good dose of cold. Leafy greens like lettuces, spinach and kale produce more glucose, the simple sugar that is a result of photosynthesis, which makes them sweeter when given a shot of cold. This is also tapping time on Maple Syrup farms. Too warm and that sweet sap-o-deliciousness spoils.
A foodie like me can't resist that reason all on its own.


While swearing about the evils and ails of winter as we head into April, think about the reasons why we benefit from it, how it will make our garden lush and our food so tasty, and be thankful for each precious snowflake for all it gives us when Spring actually arrives.

Fear No More: Reclaiming Chemicals

This is an article I wrote for Pure Path Magazine in early 2013. I have since updated some of it, which I can now share.

Fear No More:  Reclaiming Chemicals

In 1989 awareness of the chemical dihydrogen monoxide first took shape bringing to light the disastrous effects that it has on our life. Between 1989 and 2002 independent studies by universities around the globe have come to the following conclusions: 

·         it is fatal if inhaled.

·         it has been known to cause burns ranging from minor to severe 3^rd degree.

·         it is an environmental hazard that has been known to cause erosion of land and buildings, accelerate the corrosion and rusting of many metals, while also known as “hydroxyl acid" it is the major component of acid rain and as such is a major contributor to the “greenhouse effect”, a large part of global warming.

·         it has been linked to electrical failures and decreased effectiveness of machines, including the safety systems in automobiles.

·         it has been found in excised cancerous tumors.

Despite the danger, dihydrogen monoxide is often used:

·         as an industrial solvent and coolant including in nuclear power plants.

·         in the production of such items as Styrofoam, plastics and other products considered hazardous to our health and to the environment.

·         in many forms of torture of both people and animals.

·         it is a main ingredient in many pesticides. Even after washing, produce remains contaminated by this chemical.

·         as an additive in a vast array of food products, including popular junk foods and even those labeled as “health foods” according to FDA standards.

Millions of people globally have signed petitions to ban dihydrogen monoxide in their areas. Several governing bodies, including members of the New Zealand Green Party and the city of Aliso Viejo, California had proposed bans on their agendas, while in a voting advice application of the Finnish parliament showed that 49% of the candidates were pro-ban of dihydrogen monoxide.

The problem with this is that were we to actually ban this chemical, the vast percentage of life on Earth would die. It’s a drastic statement, I know, but true. In scientific form dihydrogen monoxide is broken down like this: Two hydrogen particles- H2= dihydrogen, and one single particle of oxygen- O=monoxide. H2O. In its most common name dihydrogen monoxide is in fact just water.

Every danger and every use listed is quite true but it also brings to light one of the problems that our society currently faces. As we trend towards “natural” living, wanting to be “greener” and “organic” in our day to day lives we have come to rely on the new adage “If you can’t pronounce it or don’t recognize it, then don’t eat it.” Natural, green and organic are the new and improved buzzwords manufacturers use to get your attention, and your dollar, while the fear of “chemical” has become so ingrained in us that we lift our forks to our faces in a perpetual state of unnecessary terror.

There is one other truth that we seem to overlook; natural is not always the best way either. According to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA), during the final quarter of 2012, they documented the highest amount of food recall activity seen in the past two years. The 552 recalls of FDA-regulated food products announced during the fourth quarter maxed out at about 6 events per day totalling nearly 18.4 million items, including *certified organically labeled* fresh fruit and vegetables, nut products and other foods and beverages. Several of these were recalled for food bacterial contamination; E. Coli, Salmonella and Listeria. All are completely natural and all are things we don’t want to ingest.

When we read labels there are “natural flavorings”, which according to the FDA occur in such trace amounts that they need not be labeled exactly.  In fact the wording according to the Code of Federal Regulations is something that gets the head spinning;
  “the essential oil, oleoresin, essence or extractive, protein hydrolysate, distillate, or any product of roasting, heating or enzymolysis, which contains the flavoring constituents derived from a spice, fruit or fruit juice, vegetable or vegetable juice, edible yeast, herb, bark, bud, root, leaf or similar plant material, meat, seafood, poultry, eggs, dairy products, or fermentation products thereof, whose significant function in food is flavoring rather than nutritional” (21CFR101.22).

That paragraph is full of perfectly acceptable, perfectly natural words that most people with an education outside of the sciences would not know or recognize. This means that the use of beaver anal gland excretion as a natural flavoring is completely acceptable, and it falls smack under the “natural” labeling that we cling to. Yet, is this truly acceptable as a food product to you?

Chemicals are not the evil additives lurking in our foods, waiting to build up in our bodies and shut them down. Everything in our lives from what we wear to what we ingest to how we treat our skin and hair has been attributed a chemical name. Even synthesized chemicals do not deserve the bad rap they have received.

In the 1780’s the plant Digitalis (commonly known as Foxglove) was explored as a treatment for heart problems. Over the years the benefits of it in treatments in arrhythmias, specifically atrial fibrillation and congestive heart failure, have been refined. The problem entered when it was understood that Digitalis is actually toxic and the margin for diagnosis error is quite slender. A slight ingestion of too much of this herb takes a person from a steady heart rate to stomach pains, convulsions, delirium, vomiting, diarrhea and in rare cases, death.

Instead of discounting the herb all together, modern science has isolated the functional chemicals in the plant, cardiac glycoside (digitoxin and digoxin) as well as a naturally occurring steroid (digoxigenin)  used in marking DNA and RNA. Two medically used chemicals, ones dismissed when looking at the names, derived from an herb recognized for hundreds of years and adapted for safer use into modern medicine.

Other examples:

Thymol, the anticeptic that makes up anywhere from 24-56% of Thyme is but one of several useful chemicals and compounds in the plant. Flip a container of Lysterine and you will find it as an active ingredient.
Phytoestrogens, used to help ease the symptoms of menopause and PMS can be found in varying degrees in the herbs sage, oatstraw and wild yams, but have been refined into prescription pills.
Melatonin, a chemical that helps to gently lull the body to sleep (and one I use on a fairly regular basis) is found in tart cherries and tart cherry juice. This is available in over-the-counter sleep aids.
I could go on but I think you get my point.

The blending of science and herbs/naturals is one that needs to not be feared. Instead of having to eat 80 cherries every night, I can take an extremely concentrated form of tart cherry juice or I can pop a melatonin capsule.  The concentrates of the extracted chemicals allow us to live easier, more comfortably and more naturally without taxing our ecosystems attempting to produce the copious amounts of plants we would need to produce the same medicinal amount naturally.

Modern science also gives us the benefit of a more consistent, safe dosage- every time. No longer do the fears of someone taking just a little too much Foxglove exist.  A person requiring Digitalis can take their pills with confidence that it will be the correct amount. Plants are subject to their environment. Improper soil, too little light, water differences, temperature variations produces varying amounts of those beneficial chemicals we need. One batch of oregano could contain 6mg of Vitamin K, while the next might produce only 4mg because the soil was depleted of nutrients. The refinement of science has allowed for exact measurements. This is especially important when looking at treatments while already taking medications.

As Western Herbalism steps out of folklore and into being accepted as complimentary medical treatments, the pharmacological studies being done on plants are more extensive. Notions previously brushed off as the mad actions of a shaman, a witta, or a country grandmother are now being explored in depth in laboratories. Every day we become more aware of what chemicals in the plants work on different ailments, and why.
Chemicals.
Those things we are told to avoid. Those crazy, unpronounceable words that are nothing more than fancy ways of labeling the basic components that make up our world.

Our world is full of stress and anxiety enough, we simply don’t need to listen to every adage, old or new, that tacks on more. If you don’t know the words on a product, or where it is grown, then look it up. The internet, while able to create hysteria, is also the greatest weapon against it these days. Never fear asking a professional for their credentials before you ask them for their help. And most importantly, don’t fear chemicals. Instead of questioning every little thing you eat or breathe, question the hype first. Look beyond the marketing. 
Remember that we’d all die without dihydrogen monoxide.

From the Ground Up: For The Love Of Seedventures

As the garden at Bedlam Garden Manor has grown from pots to actual gardens, there is an excitement that begins to brew around this time of year.

First it begins with looking out the windows at the garden tucked in sweet slumber beneath a fluffy down of snow. It's beautiful, and in fact it's one of my favorite times of year.

One of my beloved Maple Trees here at Bedlam

BUT...BUT...there is this sport that begins in mid-January...Postman Stalking.  Luckily, he has a great sense of humor when I rush out the door in hopes that it's arrived. Like a child anxiously awaiting Santa Claus, hardly able to contain their excitement, I peer out the window for that little white truck to rumble up the street, the dark-blue uniform of it's driver a welcome site, the satchel carried on his hip full of potential wonder and delight.

And there is that blessed day when it arrives. Gleaming, the pages filled with decadent treats from around the world, tempting me to try all of it for myself...my seed catalog.

Year to year I collect seeds from my own garden, when I can, especially when I find something I truly adore and can not be promised to find again (last year was a Russian Yellow Tomato with the perfect heart shape, and a small yellow cherry tomato called Snow White that convinced me that I should never eat red cherry tomatoes again). However, there are those people who travel the world to find seeds for us to try and expand our gardens with the new, the unusual, the heirloom varieties whose look and taste make even the best local produce seem humdrum.  The efforts of those few souls, of whom I have a tremendous amount of envy, tend to be captured in my favorite seed catalogs- Baker Creek Seeds from My absolute favorite place to find rare seeds  and My other favorite catalog for an incredible Seedventure and for the herb lovers among us there is Check out there herb seed bundles to get many different varieties of a similar nature!
And there is the king of them all...Sand Mountain Herbs who not only includes the seeds which they grow and harvest themselves (and which they often send with instructions hand written on the plain little envelopes of seeds!) but also helpful tips and advice on the website. With these 4 there is truly no reason to go elsewhere.

What is a Seedventure?  It's when you look beyond the commonplace; the Beefsteak tomatoes, the Black Beauty eggplant, the Sugar Daddy watermelon to find the truly rare or interesting gems. Spinach that has red berries growing on it? Why, yes I will.  Ground cherries?  What a delicious compliment to my tree cherries! Melons for pie making, or that have jelly inside? Goji berries? Buttery lettuce perfect for the grill? Hell yeah!

So, upon that seed catalog arrival day, because digitally looking at them is, to me, like licking a photo of cake- just not the same, I make myself a tea and grab my Gardener's Notes list paper.  I pull out the photo album I organize my current seeds in to make sure I won't be tempted into something I already have. With graph paper and a pencil I map out my garden, fitting in what I already have, noting what seeds I am out of, and seeing where I have room for new.

Then my personal Christmas begins. In each catalog I cross out what I already have, removing temptation of duplication, and go to the sections of what I need to replace. Then...THEN... I read everything the way that a bride scours through wedding magazines- searching for every detail.
What's new? What's different? WHAT CAN I GROW?

It's a decadent afternoon of lazily day-dreaming about the garden. I can almost feel the chill of the tilled earth in my hands, smell the damp soil, hear the hum of the world waking in the morning.

I have my list, sitting right here beside me. It's long and luscious and has to be culled back to fit into my budget. This year it looks like my Seedventures will include Cardoon, Noodle Beans, Ground Cherries, Gooseberries and Roselles. Maybe there will even be Ground Nuts (nuts that grow in the earth, not pulverized ones), maybe. *happy sigh*

You thought I was joking about the Gardener's Notes List page, didn't you?

May your Seedventures be full of promise and excitement, of rich soil and bountiful harvests!

And please, please, share them with me!  The best Seedventures are the ones shared!

From the Ground Up: In the Garden of What is That?

First blogged in 2010

When I was a wee little bit of a girl my father had the most luscious garden. It was filled with scrumptious delights like pole beans, eggplants and green tomatoes.

I can't recall, no matter how I try, him planting a single plant yet they were there each summer springing up mysteriously for him to nurture. He would wile hours away in his denim cut off shorts, sans shirt, stepping cautiously in his dirty old sneakers while yanking random spouts from amidst the rows. There were times I would help him pluck the delicious tidbits from the vines, only after he approved their ripeness first.

Once we moved from our magical home in the country to a smaller lot in a suburban neighborhood, the edible garden faded to a memory. He kept his rose gardens and exquisite landscaping. I grew to my angst driven tween/teen years and didn't dwell on the missing garden until years later.

When I had my son I decided I wanted to grow something, other than him. Apartments are not ideal locations for the joy of gardening but I bought pots, filled them with Miracle Grow soil and bought little 4" pots of various herbs. To my delight, they grew and to my surprise I was good at it. I smiled when I saw the breeze flit the Fernleaf Dill around on the fire escape. I closed my eyes to relish the aroma of the Italian Basil wafted through the windows.

With each apartment upgrade, I added something to the "garden". When we acquired a balcony, I added a pot of tomatoes and peppers. Hub and son aren't particularly fond of tomatoes but I did it because I could. They never tasted so sweet.

When we bought the house I vowed to have the garden of my memory. I chose a corner of the yard, and without research I did what I thought I needed to do. I tilled the soil, not removing the sod first. I planted, without adding a healthy topsoil or compost. I now hang my head in shame at my naivete.

It was only after I saw the pathetic sprouts that I started looking into what it would take to save the not-a-garden. The discovery that our area was once a lake bed and the soil is predominantly clay saddened me. We had beans enough for a meal and most all else died or was nibbled away by bunnies. My heart sank as I admitted defeat.

I allowed that little plot to grow coarse patches of grass and examined an existing (and out of control) plant bed around the deck. Once mulched with red stones (SCREAM of horror!!!) I cleared it out as best as I could and there I planted 4" Sage, Peppermint, Lemon Balm, Chives and English Lavender purchased at the local home and garden store. I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.
It's been 3 years and they are truly marvels, growing year after year, almost out of control, which has lead to a battle of a different nature. More on that later.

Out of fear of disappointment, I stuck to pots year after year. They graced a set of stairs on one side of our deck that we don't use. They produce small bits and are wonderful. Still, the niggling desire for a real garden, for working in the earth with my hands, for that magical garden of my childhood has been there digging under my skin and poking at tender places until finally, this year, I gave in.

We had an unusual snap of warm weather very early this year. If Mother Nature herself sent a memo with the words "bitch slap" written on it, it couldn't have been more perfect. This was my time, my year and I intend to seize it.

I went to the lawn and garden store with the determination of getting dwarf/mini fruit trees. I read and researched and decided to battle the bunnies with a raised garden. Blueberries that had previously been suffering from the clay have been transplanted. Gardening sites (that I found on the tags of my trees) have been book marked. Shovels, trowels, sunscreen and all manner of tools have been dusted off. I have even looked into proper ways to attack my nemesis, the clay garden.
With a gritty determination, I set out to be victorious!

I started seeds in trays and little plastic greenhouses on our sunporch. I screwed, hammered, dug, and humiliated myself in front of the neighborhood in attempts to clear beds. Raised gardens were built and I figure out the perfect growing locations for everything.

I've cut myself open, given myself blisters. I've been sunburned, bit, slapped by a shovel in the face resulting in a fat lip, gotten dirt in my eye and some how up my nose, twisted my back and aggravated my tendonitis. It was an absolutely exquisite experience.

The transformation alone, which is not yet done, has been inspiring. The more I do, the more I want to do. One project inspires another, a never ending project.

The entire process is invigorating. Pressing tiny little tan specks into the soil and waiting anxiously to see if it will sprout, and what it will look like when it does. Seeing the garden transform from plots of grass to something that I can feed my family with. The heady scent and cool feeling of freshly turned earth. A passion has been awakened in me.

I can not wait for a harvest, to pull into this venture another love of mine...cooking.

Imagine the sublime joy that will be knowing, from start to finish, I created that dish. I planted the seeds and nurtured them to give me their hard grown fruits. Knowing that I plucked those morsels, cleaned and prepped them and turned them into something delicious to nourish my loved ones.

There is a deep, primal satisfaction in just envisioning this process unfold, so much so that I can hardly contain my excitement in making it come true.

From the Ground Up- In the Garden of Interested Neglect

First blogged in 2012; edited today for date correctness.

When we moved into this house 8 1/2 years ago I delighted in the idea that I could finally have a garden, and while I had no clue where to start, I started small with a variety of vegetables in pots.

The following year I planted 4" herbs around the back deck, only 3 or 4. When I dug into the earth I was mortified to find that only inches beneath the topsoil was a dense layer of clay. As I mulled it over, it made perfect sense. The area where we live was once part of the bed of Lake Ontario, in a notoriously clay based area.
I proceeded to care for those herbs and maintain pot gardens, but it wasn't what I wanted in my heart. The herbs thrived an everything else I planted choked on the clay. Vegetables and fruits (outside of strawberries) gave up before they even tried.

Three years ago I built a raised bed out of discount shingles purchased on clearance at Lowe's. It was a glorious triumph of delectable vegetables. At this time I also planted black raspberries and some grapes. The herbs I planted originally had flourished to the point where the lavender had to be transplanted to an area that was more conducive to its size.

More research to soil churning and enriching lead me to a rather large risk as I decided to plant fruit trees; a golden apple espalier, sweet cherries, dark plums and kiwi. They are doing well, slow growing, I can only assume due to clay, but this year they produced blossoms/fruit, so what I am doing must be working.

The following spring I wanted to build a larger raised bed garden, expand it around the yard and incorporate more herbs. I had great lists and desires. It's all planned out, graphed and mapped. I had the seeds, either ones I harvested myself or ones I grew. Every thing was in a row and then...

Life took over. The business I own grew incredibly busy ahead of schedule and all my plans went beyond the back burner and straight to a shelf. Seeds are now cataloged for next year. I watched my fruit trees bloom and helplessly lose those blooms in a late-spring deep-freeze. I monitored the progress of the grapes, the raspberries and the herbs, most of which were grown in pots because I couldn't get them into the ground. The one lone apple that survived the freeze grew in front of my scanning eyes.

Somehow I viewed it as a mixed blessing when the drought hit. The state underwent a water use ban. Lawns passed the browning stage and turned into desperate yellowish straw. I sighed with relief knowing that I dodged a bullet, as every night I heard tales of lost crops.

"Weeds" grew. One day my fruits were almost ripe and the next day they were gone as birds and squirrels descended upon them. Hopes for next season sprung into plots for animal nets and other harmless deterrents.

Finally, the drought broke and things moved to life and it seemed like they were rushing to catch up. For the second time in the year (not since spring) our lawn needed to be mowed. Before having our son take to the task, I went to survey the yard and gardens and noticed a very faint, sweet, almost apple like aroma on the breeze. Little white flowers caught my eye, growing everywhere. Imagine my surprise when I realized chamomile, an herb that was on my list to grow, blanketed my yard.

After a month of waiting, I decided to wade through the weeds where I discovered, much to my great joy, herbs that I had intended to add to my garden this year. One plant of each just appeared:
Lamb's ear in the black raspberry patch.  Red Clover in the middle yard. Catnip and Burdock in the grapes.

Herbs I was told wouldn't survive our winters have thrived and flourished in our yard over the years, some of those even developing hearty offshoots. Our strawberry plants, which are all in pots, have danced away from their pots and can now be found throughout the herb beds. Everything is lush and full.

I set about harvesting and transplanting my new found delights, marveling that the garden seemed to know exactly what I wanted and granted me one plant of each.

While not my preferred approach to gardening it seems that interested neglect is a fruitful method, for one year at least, to finding out how simply magical my garden can be and that nature does, indeed, seem to find a way.

*Note: In 2013 I did a planned garden. Updated the raised bed to pallet beds. Expanded into the front yard. I used those shutters to encase what I now call the "sharps garden"; where the black raspberries and nettle grow. In the middle of the year I went to check on it and there, growing proud and strong was a gorgeous thistle plant. Not only did nature know that I wanted some thistle, it even put it in the appropriate garden section for me!  Not only does it find a way, it's awe-inspiring in its choices.

From the Ground Up: In the Garden of Microcosm Gods

This morning I went out into my garden, as I do often, and just strolled around, making a mental task list of everything that needs to be done. A few weeks ago I began a full overhaul of the garden; moving, expanding, yanking out, adding in… with the hopes of it being set in time for planting. While the (hopefully) last of the frosts past this past week, we still have much to do but it is closer to being done than a week ago.
The morning air was cool, compared to the heat that has enveloped the world, a heat far too extreme for the end of May in the northeast US.  Birds sang as I plugged sweet potato sprigs into their spots near the pallet trellises we mounted to the side of our garage. The breeze tickled, the earth beneath my bare feet and knees was moist and refreshing. Truly an ideal morning to be out.
First posted in my gardening blog in May 2013-

Gardening is always a thoughtful time for me. When I’m not thinking about where to put the plants or how to maximize space on our .15 of an acre, my mind wanders and trips over this or that.

The strawberry pallet wall I mounted to the side of the garage last year.



Today I wondered why people enjoy gardening so much. The answer, at its base, seems simple. We commune with nature. We play in the dirt. We create. But we can, and many people do, accomplish that in multitudes of different ways.

planting the seeds for future deliciousness

There is something to be said for nurturing a plant from seed to table, but then, many people don’t undertake this for any number of reasons or excuses, preferring to buy the plants in a degradable pot. Just plug, water and Voila! Plants we can say we grew, but really didn’t. We just encouraged what was already started.
So then, why? Pride? Ego? That’s when it dawned on me…we have a god-complex. Mankind, at its core, loves to destroy. We love to level things and bring something from nothing. We thrive on “rescuing”, but many of us don’t want to admit it and gardens are the perfect place to do this guilt-free.

On our hands and knees in the freshness of a morning or the blaze of the day we decide who lives and who dies as we yank creeping charlies or cleavers out of their comfy homes by the roots, even as we gently tickle the roots of the pretty plants and lovingly set them in the nests we dug with our hands. We layer wood chips and discard to choke to death anything we might not want poking its “ugly” head up so it doesn’t mar the beauty we are trying to create. We cut swaths of grass, hacking the roots with knives and rolling it up to discard, making way for beds to tuck our preferred choices into. Pesticides, either naturally created or chemically manufactured, keep our woodland neighbors at bay while we purchase ladybugs and worms (think about that! We purchase live bugs!) and introduce them to the microcosm we have created. As gardeners we become little gods of the worlds we create so that we can stand back with pride and say, “I did that.”

In a world full of such chaos well beyond our control, this socially-acceptable world-building escape is therapeutic. At times it is frustrating as much as it is calming, but at the end of the day a deep satisfaction curls into our bones when we smell that flower or feel the warm juice of the off the tree fruit run down our chins.
It’s moments like that where I fully acknowledge, it’s good to be a (micro) god.

Because a solid color or single pattern is just boring

Patchwork body paint circa 2011

I have had online blogs before Several in fact.
One for writing.
One for exploring my brain.
One for cooking.
One for living.
One for my art.
One for my herbals.

You know what? That's exhausting!  I did it because someone told me it's better to keep them separate.

Skeee-rooo that!
All of those things are patches in the grand scheme of my life, so why keep them so separate? It makes no sense. Not to mention that I would get overwhelmed, give up and poof! T'was all for naught!

So this is where I am going to stitch them all together into one beautiful blanket of my patchwork life.

If you previously followed my writings on LiveJournal, my Life By Numbers project, my participation in the Pagan Blog project, Artful Body on Facebook, or any of the other miscellaneous tidbits of my world, thank you!  Your support is so appreciated.