I read somewhere that a scientist wanted to find out if plants feel pain. So he hooked some up to a measuring device, and just as he intended to burn them, the plants reacted. So whenever I work with or even look at my plants, I send them good vibes and admiration.
As summer came to a close, my garden was tired and half dead. The plants seemed sad, traumatized by the hours of thunder/lightning, the fires that followed, and the smoke-filled air blocking their sunlight and choking them out for weeks.
It was time for TLC/Fall refresh. But first, a recap.
Last fall, I had gone to the local harvest festival with my girls and brought home ears of Indian corn and popcorn. The ones that were not suitable for decoration, I told my youngest to just shove the ears in the dirt. To my shock, sprouts formed. During my garden renovation earlier this year, I planted two sprouts, which produced 2.5 ears of colorful but not entirely formed corn.
I’ve kept the seeds from several trader joes baking pumpkins over the years, so I had just tossed them in the dirt. We enjoyed weeks of pumpkin blooms.
A few trips to the dollar store and Home Depot and my total cost was around $100.
I harvested pumpkins from Safeway and Lemo’s Farm. (blog post coming soon)
Enjoy the “after” shots.
It still amazes me how so much growth and beauty can come from such tiny seeds.
Introduction: Given the five-word prompt, I wrote for 15 minutes about gardening. Here seems like a fitting place to put the shorty. The five words are in bold…I may have misused them. Enjoy!
In the solitude of my small yet ever-growing garden, I often muse over the epoch of my youth. One day I thought about my gardening influences. Three stood out. The first was the unkempt wilderness belonging to my cousins, a borderline deathtrap on a slope. For a short time, there were chickens. Mostly it was a place where we would play chef and make salads out of plant and wildflower clippings.
The second yard that stands out is another wild one. It was a large flat overgrown and possibly dangerous place where I’d spend hours under the sun picking up “presents” left by our fourteen dogs and puppies.
The third was my father’s tiny garden in the corner of one of my childhood homes. He worked diligently in that garden and prided himself on the harvest of fresh vegetables, and honestly, the best veggies ever. One day while working in his little field, he found a bullfrog. He brought it to the glass door and called my mom over. When she approached, he held it up to her face and said, “Kiss a toad.”
My past memories were enough to leave a scintilla of inspiration for my own, neat, purposeful, dare I say, pretty garden. It’s a place I cherish to get away from the screen. This quiet tending inspires questions quickly answered in the form of a beautiful epiphany.
The most rewarding aspect of gardening, for me, is tending to the dead parts. I used to be a cosmetologist, and removing dead leaves and branches is akin to cutting off split ends. I can almost hear the plants exhale a big, “thank you” as they are no longer wasting their good energy holding onto dead parts, like how we feel when we declutter our homes. The bounce back to better beauty is quick. Talk about a life lesson.
If you need to clear out some old spiritual gunk, here is a link to a good meditation.