So I'm doing what some people call "urban pioneering." What that means is that I've moved into a not-spectacular neighborhood, into a house that needs some work. The idea is that we fix up the house and make the neighborhood a nicer place to live because we're not buying or selling drugs from the nice boys out front.
Anyway, we have some great little garden space in our back yard. If left to its own devices, it grows into this spectacular rain forest, with a canopy, understory, everything. But if we let it do that, it's kind of hard to get through it to our cars. So we've planted a few things, and I'm trying to weed regularly. My family had a garden as a kid, and I wasn't always happy to work in it. But I enjoy it now, and I'm glad I learned what I did during the forced labor of my early years. I'm old enough now to marvel at the little miracles that happen in a garden. Bare dirt bursts into life (mostly weeds for me, but hey, it's life). Plants grow unaided into four-foot-tall masterpieces. And flowers -- wow, cool. I think I mentioned a few days ago that I planted some beans and peas. I'm quite excited to see if I can get dirt and water to turn into a side dish for dinner.
There are other miracles, too. Like how do I get dirt under my fingernails when I wore gardening gloves the entire time I was out there? And the durability of grass stains are truly amazing. Now, in an "urban" garden there are even more miracles. Especially an "urban pioneering" garden. See, not only does it grow weeds, it grows other things too. Over night, I'll walk out and discover a new crop of weeds to be harvested, and right in among them there are some french fries. Wow, cool! I didn't know those lept fully formed from the earth. But our garden grows even bigger things. Right now it's sporting a bathtub, two bicycles, and the most recent fruit is a metal shopping cart. There was a plastic one in the same spot a couple of months ago.
These things never move, once they arrive. The weeds grow up around them and through them. I really have no explanation for it.
Anyway, now it's time for me to go write about a dark and stormy night.
Anyway, we have some great little garden space in our back yard. If left to its own devices, it grows into this spectacular rain forest, with a canopy, understory, everything. But if we let it do that, it's kind of hard to get through it to our cars. So we've planted a few things, and I'm trying to weed regularly. My family had a garden as a kid, and I wasn't always happy to work in it. But I enjoy it now, and I'm glad I learned what I did during the forced labor of my early years. I'm old enough now to marvel at the little miracles that happen in a garden. Bare dirt bursts into life (mostly weeds for me, but hey, it's life). Plants grow unaided into four-foot-tall masterpieces. And flowers -- wow, cool. I think I mentioned a few days ago that I planted some beans and peas. I'm quite excited to see if I can get dirt and water to turn into a side dish for dinner.
There are other miracles, too. Like how do I get dirt under my fingernails when I wore gardening gloves the entire time I was out there? And the durability of grass stains are truly amazing. Now, in an "urban" garden there are even more miracles. Especially an "urban pioneering" garden. See, not only does it grow weeds, it grows other things too. Over night, I'll walk out and discover a new crop of weeds to be harvested, and right in among them there are some french fries. Wow, cool! I didn't know those lept fully formed from the earth. But our garden grows even bigger things. Right now it's sporting a bathtub, two bicycles, and the most recent fruit is a metal shopping cart. There was a plastic one in the same spot a couple of months ago.
These things never move, once they arrive. The weeds grow up around them and through them. I really have no explanation for it.
Anyway, now it's time for me to go write about a dark and stormy night.
