For such a mild winter, it’s a bit of a shock to all of the sudden be in the twenties outside. Now, in the past twenty-four years I am living the furthest south of all my many homes, so I am no stranger to a true winter. However, the apartment we live in, though only over a year old, has terrible heating downstairs. Being inside is and staying warm is an effort, so then going outside no longer holds an appeal. I am someone who gets cold very easily, and I need the right conditions to want to brave some cold weather. Shivering under sweatshirts and blankets isn’t really the right conditions.
However, despite the cold, the clouds finally broke today and there were periods of sunshine. It’s been a little too cloudy for my particular tastes, so the sun was a welcome excuse to pull down the shades (my shades actually do come down, rather than up, in order to see out the window).
Despite the ice and cold weather and lack of sun, I have noticed a lot of gardeners gearing up for spring on their blogs. Much talk of seed ordering and compost and whatnot. One of my goals this year is to start on organic garden. I made this goal when it looked like we would be moving into a house or condo this spring. This has since changed and it looks like, instead, we’ll be moving to another apartment (oh the joy). So, my organic garden has undergone some reevaluation.
I still want to give it a try. One of my other goals is to eat something I grow, so even if I just have one measly tomato plant I will be immensely happy (for this year). I’ve been doing some research on container vegetable gardening (more research to be done when I get to the library at some point this week). Right now, I think I might try to grow some tomatoes, one or twp varieties of peppers, and probably some lettuce. I suppose the time is now to start these endeavors, though it seems so early to me (the novice gardener talking).
Though I am but a novice, gardening of all forms is something that seems to seep its way through the generations of my family. I have long been brought up to appreciate and memorize flower names—both wild and domestic. When I would visit my maternal Grandmother in rural Iowa, we would pour over Wildflower books and hike about her wooded land identifying and picking and enjoying the little gems that the wilderness had to offer.
Both of my Grandmothers also had more domestic gardens, filled with perennials and annuals of all shapes and sizes. My mother is a gardener/floral designer by trade and so I have been brought up with the love of growing things. I have not had much luck, or much interest, in growing my own until now, but I think I have the basics down.
I decided I wanted to start my own vegetable garden, because I seem to have cultivated the very American way of needing tangible results. I suppose flowers themselves are the result, and a tangible one, but you can’t really do anything with them. I love wildflowers, but growing them would take away a bit of the wild I think, so domesticated gardening, for whatever reason, leaves me desiring more. I think the vegetable is the answer to that. It produces something I am going to eat (if I can somehow manage to do it all right).
Beyond that, I find myself growing increasingly political. Sadly, by growing increasingly political that still leaves me behind many. Though I have keen interest in politics, my frustration often outweighs my patience with the way things work. So, instead, I find myself holding on to certain issues rather than parties, events, or other such means. With the inspiration of the words of Barbara Kingsolver, Joan Gussow, and Nell Newman, I have become increasingly aware and passionate about the state of our nations food consumption and the costs on the environment and even on many less fortunate people who I’d never even considered before. My garden thus becomes also the beginnings of a political statement—not to others, but to myself. Slowly, I am choosing to make the conscious effort to do something that may increase our chances of changing the way things are. Ideally, as I gain the resources, the space, and the dedication, I hope to expand the garden to at least a small bit of sustainability (like say, vegetables) and increase my appreciation for the farmers that bring us food, and knowledge of the seasons and what I have a right to be eating.
And even beyond that, as winter melts into spring, I always have the urge to sink my hands into some dirt, to cultivate my own green, and hopefully this year, reap some rewards of that urge.
However, despite the cold, the clouds finally broke today and there were periods of sunshine. It’s been a little too cloudy for my particular tastes, so the sun was a welcome excuse to pull down the shades (my shades actually do come down, rather than up, in order to see out the window).
Despite the ice and cold weather and lack of sun, I have noticed a lot of gardeners gearing up for spring on their blogs. Much talk of seed ordering and compost and whatnot. One of my goals this year is to start on organic garden. I made this goal when it looked like we would be moving into a house or condo this spring. This has since changed and it looks like, instead, we’ll be moving to another apartment (oh the joy). So, my organic garden has undergone some reevaluation.
I still want to give it a try. One of my other goals is to eat something I grow, so even if I just have one measly tomato plant I will be immensely happy (for this year). I’ve been doing some research on container vegetable gardening (more research to be done when I get to the library at some point this week). Right now, I think I might try to grow some tomatoes, one or twp varieties of peppers, and probably some lettuce. I suppose the time is now to start these endeavors, though it seems so early to me (the novice gardener talking).
Though I am but a novice, gardening of all forms is something that seems to seep its way through the generations of my family. I have long been brought up to appreciate and memorize flower names—both wild and domestic. When I would visit my maternal Grandmother in rural Iowa, we would pour over Wildflower books and hike about her wooded land identifying and picking and enjoying the little gems that the wilderness had to offer.
Both of my Grandmothers also had more domestic gardens, filled with perennials and annuals of all shapes and sizes. My mother is a gardener/floral designer by trade and so I have been brought up with the love of growing things. I have not had much luck, or much interest, in growing my own until now, but I think I have the basics down.
I decided I wanted to start my own vegetable garden, because I seem to have cultivated the very American way of needing tangible results. I suppose flowers themselves are the result, and a tangible one, but you can’t really do anything with them. I love wildflowers, but growing them would take away a bit of the wild I think, so domesticated gardening, for whatever reason, leaves me desiring more. I think the vegetable is the answer to that. It produces something I am going to eat (if I can somehow manage to do it all right).
Beyond that, I find myself growing increasingly political. Sadly, by growing increasingly political that still leaves me behind many. Though I have keen interest in politics, my frustration often outweighs my patience with the way things work. So, instead, I find myself holding on to certain issues rather than parties, events, or other such means. With the inspiration of the words of Barbara Kingsolver, Joan Gussow, and Nell Newman, I have become increasingly aware and passionate about the state of our nations food consumption and the costs on the environment and even on many less fortunate people who I’d never even considered before. My garden thus becomes also the beginnings of a political statement—not to others, but to myself. Slowly, I am choosing to make the conscious effort to do something that may increase our chances of changing the way things are. Ideally, as I gain the resources, the space, and the dedication, I hope to expand the garden to at least a small bit of sustainability (like say, vegetables) and increase my appreciation for the farmers that bring us food, and knowledge of the seasons and what I have a right to be eating.
And even beyond that, as winter melts into spring, I always have the urge to sink my hands into some dirt, to cultivate my own green, and hopefully this year, reap some rewards of that urge.
Mom's Garden 4/16/06
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