Green Machine

The community garden is a green machine this year. It cranks out leaves and buds and veggies, never taking a break or calling in sick. I feel happy each time I visit. Even if I’ve gone the day before and the garden looks nearly the same, there are always small changes to notice if you look closely. So many things are growing: football-sized zucchini, beautifully bumpy heirloom tomatoes, flowers of many colors.

 

None of the photos above show things in my plot, mind you. Oh no. These are the fruits of other gardeners’ labors. But I wanted to show them to you because together, everything growing in the garden makes up a mosaic of different shapes, colors, smells and textures, and it’s a work of art.

My own plot is the tortoise in this scenario. (Please refer to the children’s story Tortoise and the Hare if you don’t understand my metaphor.) It’s not the garden growing with the fastest speed or the tallest plants but it is chugging along, pacing itself, and it’s growing. It doesn’t need to come out of the gate quickly, with something to prove. I love my scarlet runner beans. I don’t care if these plants don’t produce one bean, actually! I planted the seeds for the promise of the brightly-colored flowers that grow on the vine. Life is not a black and white movie. The world is a colorful place! 

Pick Your Own

Summer fruit. It’s delish.

Maybe summer fruit is a reward for surviving the school year. Summer fruits smell better than winter fruits. Or maybe they have a stronger smell. The moment you step into the supermarket the scent of peaches grabs you with its irresistible perfume. Pyramids of apricots and mountains of grapes beckon at farmers' markets. Plants and trees respond to the warmer temperatures with the same enthusiasm people do, and they produce fruit in every shade of the rainbow.

 

Our apricot tree didn’t make as many apricots as last year but we had fun picking the ones that grew.

 

 

A neighbor brought homemade blackberry jam to us recently.

 

These gifts mean a lot because it takes time and effort to make them. The jam is a beautiful purply-black color and just the right combination of sweet and tart. It reminds me of childhood visits to the island where my grandma lived, where wild blackberries grew at the edge of the road. During visits to the island we drove on small roads, exploring. When my little sister and I spotted blackberries growing, we’d scream with glee from the backseat, “Pull over!” Leaping from the car, we ran to the wall of berries, in awe of this chance to pick fruit, like real farmers! We were two suburban kids, unaccustomed to seeing blackberries available anywhere except the supermarket. A chance to pick our own berries was like winning the lottery: rare, unexpected, amazing!

 

Our peach tree has had its best year since we moved in nearly ten years ago. The peaches are the size of tennis balls, the color of orangey-yellow sunsets. Although I had close to zero influence on the outcome, I’m proud of the tree! (I never water it—Hubby does sometimes—and I don’t fertilize it, talk to it, or pay it any attention. Really, I have no right to feel proud of it. It’s thriving not because of me, but in spite of me. Yet I am proud of it, and I am waiting with anticipation for the fruit to be ready.)

Summer fruits. They are one of many prizes in a season filled with good things. Go ahead. Take a bite!

The Astonishing Secret Lives of Vegetables

Exciting things happen when you go undercover. No, I’m not talking about movies like Donnie Brasco and cops assimilating into the Mafia for information. I’m talking about something even more heart-pounding and mysterious: what happens under the leaves and beneath the dirt in gardens.

Plants amaze me.  There is no Mensa group for plants, but they are quite smart. They know the season, date and time and what they need to do, all without consulting an Iphone.

Science was never my favorite subject. I liked writing in English class and painting in art class. But now that I am fascinated by plants and gardens, my appreciation for science is blooming. I’m enchanted by the ways of plants. They need so little help from me—some water, maybe some coffee grounds added to the soil—and they produce bright flowers and beautiful vegetables. And sometimes, surprises.

You never know what is happening underground. Plants have unexpected gifts for us beyond what we imagine. Take the carrot I saw in the grocery store yesterday. I’ve never seen one like this. I love it! 

 

It’s fascinating. Why did it split? (Online I learned that this happens if the growing carrot bumps into a stone or a clod of dirt. It simply grows around it. In this case, it hedged its bets and grew in two directions!)

Years ago, before I joined the community garden, I had an exciting moment when I unwrapped a corn cob from its husk. I’d witnessed something I didn’t know was possible: corn twins! One was much smaller than the other but they shared the same husk. Why and how did this happen? The only information I found online suggested that when a corn stalk grows an extra limb, two joined cobs of corn may grow.

 

Several weeks ago at a farmers market I came across something I hadn’t seen before. I stopped in my tracks and turned, wide-eyed, to the vendor, full of questions about the green sculpture in front of me that apparently doubled as food. Romanesco Brassica, she informed me, was a variety of cauliflower. Maybe I’d like cauliflower more if it looked this exciting!

 

Its bright shape was the color of Kermit the frog, with intricately detailed cones that reminded me of something you’d find underwater: bumpy barnacles, the coil of nautilus shells and the defined points of conch shells. It turns out that Romanesco is made up of buds made up of a series of smaller buds, growing in a perfect spiral. This plant shares the same growth pattern as the nautilus shell: growing at a constant rate so that the spiral that is formed grows without changing its shape. (Geometric progression, for anyone who loves math terms!) Its spiral growth pattern reminds me of a pinecone’s shape as well as the structure of certain succulents. Apparently there are numerous natural creations that grow this way. Maybe kids would be more excited about eating their veggies and doing their math if lessons included captivating visuals like the Romanesco!

There you have it. We thought we knew a few things about vegetables, but there are many new facets of the plant world to discover. The amazing world of growing things: there are surprises around every corner, and under every leaf. You never know when a plant has a trick up its sleeve (corn husk).

 

You Never Know

Oh, I get so much joy from the unexpected. (Well, let me qualify that. Not unexpected parking tickets, head colds, or floods in the garage. Those unexpected things stink.) I’m talking about happening upon something surprising, delightful or funny (or all three, simultaneously).

Take yesterday, for example. We had a picnic dinner with Chris, whose birthday was earlier this week. Suddenly, one of us spotted it. It was trotting along the bike path behind its owner, enjoying a sunset walk. It was a pot-bellied pig.

Mind you, we don’t live anywhere near a farm. This was at a big park in the suburbs. You’d have to drive an hour to find a barn. Maybe more. So pigs were not high up on my list of things I thought we might see. A kite? Sure. There was a tiny breeze. Boats? Yes. Dogs, strollers, picnickers? Absolutely. These are what you expect at parks.

I grabbed my camera and raced after Piggy. When I caught up to Piggy and Piggy’s Parent I asked if I could take a photo. Piggy’s Parent offered Piggy a treat if Piggy would sit. Piggy sat.

After a very short break, Piggy’s Parent said it was time for Piggy to resume jogging. Jogging? "Oh, Yes,” the owner replied. I jokingly asked if Piggy was planning to compete in the Rock and Roll Marathon, which is tomorrow. There are projected to be 32,850 runners, 55 live bands on 30 stages, and you never know, maybe a potbellied pig or two.

Pamplona, Spain has its Running with the Bulls festival. At Sea World you can swim with dolphins. Why not jogging with pigs?

In defense of Piggy, though, his legs were awfully short. And his tummy grazed the grass as he jogged along. I’m not sure that a 26.2-mile marathon is a safe or reasonable challenge for him at this time. When your legs are that short, running 26.2 miles would be like an average human running 200 miles!

I won’t be at the marathon tomorrow. There is a barn-sized pile of laundry I need to lasso and 26.2 different kinds of chores for me to catch up on (if I can stop blogging and sewing long enough to do them). But you’ll let me know if you see Piggy at the marathon, right? Anything’s possible. Around here, you just never know what you’ll see…

Past Meets Future

It’s Memorial Day. Some people are remembering family members or friends who lost their lives while protecting our country. When you’ve grown up in America (as I have) it can be easy to take for granted our freedoms and rights since they are so much part of our everyday lives. But I want to take a moment to think about that liberty and to appreciate the bravery of those who died for American freedom. Today I’m not putting flags on relatives’ gravesites but our flag is flying out front and my mind is on those who have given so much to this country.

Our family gathered this weekend not to remember someone who had passed but to celebrate the future: a wonderful couple who soon will be married. It was the first time anyone on my side had met my sister’s fiance’s family. It was a lively group of people ranging in age from one to ninety. It was not only a blend of families but also a mix of cultures. Four generations were there. Two languages were spoken. The two people who were the reason for this group to meet are a terrific combination. They have things in common as well as differences, and their differences make them a great fit for each other. They make each other shine. All of us laughed and talked and played. We learned new traditions from other cultures and we blended really well as a group from different countries, backgrounds and histories, who share things in common, too. Among other things, we share a love for this special couple.

I’m sitting here on Memorial Day, right before sunset. My feet are a little tired and my voice is a little sore from all the talking last night. But my heart feels happier after last night’s celebration.

It’s coincidence that we all met on Memorial Day weekend: it was simply the best weekend for everyone. But I find some significance in the timing, too. Everyone there last night has a love for America for what it has given them: for me it’s freedoms I sometimes take for granted. For my almost-in-laws it was a chance for a safer, happier life for their families. Last night we were a motley bunch as well as a united group. The past is an important part of who we are but the future is a big focus, too. The flags dotting my neighborhood are a good reminder to honor the past. And the couple who brought us together last night is a symbol of how exciting the future will be.

Spring Fever Dress!

It's official: I have Spring Fever. I LOVE this season. All the plants and flowers are waking up and suddenly the neighborhood is a rainbow of blooming things. I’m one of those brightly-colored things, as usual. I’m outdoors more, enjoying the warmth, and I’m planting things at the community garden. I actually do wear dresses while I garden! And since it’s becoming a lot sunnier, I recommend using a parasol if you are fair-skinned like me. (A duck umbrella does the trick if you don’t have a parasol lying around.)

Would you like to know how this dress came into existence? I thought so. While I was in a fabric store recently, I came across this beautiful piece of yellowish-orange batik (on clearance!). I think I got the entire piece for $5. I knew it would make a fun dress and I set about making that happen. I already had a few pieces of blue and turquoise cotton in my sewing stash, and I used them for accents against the cheerful yellow. A few fabric yoyos at the neckline added to the playful feel I was after. As I’ve said before, grown-up clothes are often lacking in the fun factor, and I am not okay with that. Why should kids’ clothes corner the market on bright colors and happy polka dots and spirited details?

And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish sewing my very pattern-ful purple dress. (But that’s a blog post for another day…)

Bee-Dazzled

Okay, I’m back. Specifically, I’m back to talk bees. Yes, I am still on a bee kick but I promise it won’t go on forever. I’ll go back to being obsessed with making stuff, observing random stuff, and pondering other stuff. But for now, I’m obsessed with bee stuff.

Over the weekend a mysterious someone made a bee box in our garden! I heard about it through an email but stopped by today to see for myself.

 

 

I love that our secret beekeeper made this at home. We community gardeners are Do It Yourselfers to the core, so the personally-made bee box appeals to me. I find it so charming that our bee box is not some ridiculously high-end version you’d find in those airplane catalogues, where everything is 3-5 times the cost it would be elsewhere. (Whoever puts out those catalogues must think our brains shut off at 35,000 feet. Seriously, do they really sell many pairs of slippers at $400/pair?)

Whoever made our bee box clearly did some research about what kind of home a colony of honeybees would like. The dimensions of a bee box need to be within a certain range, according to online instructions: not too big but also not too small. The entrance to the box must be a specific size, too. In summer the entrance needs to be .75 inches high (and half that height in winter). Bigger entrances allow for rodents to enter.

 

 

 

It is also important to keep the bee box off the ground. (Our box is propped on top of an upside-down pot.) This keeps the base of the box dry and helps insulate the hive. The top of our box is weighted down by a rock and the whole thing is held together with love (and duct tape). Yep, we gardeners are all about a fancy image! But really, why not? All we need in a bee box is to keep the bees happy and in one place. Someone took the time to make a bee box so that we didn’t have to dip into our limited community garden funds. I love the gusto of these gardeners…  

On a related note, one of the newer gardeners planted an herb called Borage. Its flowers are a beautiful shade of purplish-blue and they are edible. The bees certainly are drawn to them as the photo below shows:

It’s exciting to see the bees at work in the garden. These industrious little creatures buzz from plant to plant, from bed to bed, on a mission, always with an eye on their goal. They are tiny mascots for the garden, encouraging us with their example of hard work and team effort.

The garden is growing, changing slightly between each visit, as though I’d turned the end of a kaleidoscope just a degree or two, changing the big picture in subtle ways. There are beans and tomatoes popping out in my bed, corn and sunflowers growing tall in my neighbors’ beds. It’s been a year since we shoveled huge piles of dirt, dug irritation ditches, built beds and started this labor of love. I’m excited to see how the garden evolves in the next year. I helped change it from a triangle of dirt, but it has changed me for the better, too.