Sunday, February 28, 2010

Garden Porn Redux

 
5¢ Sammiches Back In the Day

I'm continuing to go nutballs with my garden.  For whatever reason, despite the fact that it's the winter wrath of god in the rest of north america, out here in the pacific northwest it's actually pretty nice, from a gardening perspective.  That is, some sunny days, soil warm enough to germinate seeds, bulbs sprouting.

My mom has taught me most of what I know, when it comes to gardening.  Toss dill seeds out in the fall.  Garlic cloves planted in september.  Beans should be planted down to the first knuckle in one's finger.  That sort of stuff.

But fundamentally, growing things is really easy.  Life wants to happen.  If you keep it moist and keep it in contact with soil, and keep it at a temperature that it likes, then it will probably start to grow.  I.e., plant the seed, water it enough so that it soaks and cracks open, and keep it in contact with nutrients at a warm enough temp to live.  Pretty simple, right?

For whatever reason, most of my friends can't grok that.  "It's simple," I say.  "Press the radish seed into the soil.  Cover it.  Press soil down on top of it.  Water enough to keep it moist but not soaking.  Repeat."  Seriously, is that hard?  No, it's not.  But somehow I am the one with the "green thumb."

Okay, granted, radishes are easy.  But every climate has its easy plants.  Find'em.  Grow'em.  Enjoy.  Radishes like cool.  So does spinach, lettuce, and most every green.  Peppers and their kind like warmth.  Corn is a freak that shouldn't be grown.  Tomatoes are just weird and bitchy, and you're going to punish yourself if you try.  Carrots are nifty.  Collards make me laugh.  And stinging nettles make me smile.

I'm going to have WAY too many red onions this year, if things work out.  If you're within driving range in august, then I can hook you up!

Wild blueberries next to a Washington trail

Friday, February 26, 2010

Garden Porn

Things are hopping in the the garden! I've got one raised bed fully sprouting with radishes, spinach, lettuce, kale, endives, and more. I suppose that's basically the salad bed, eh? The second bed is planted with more radishes (what can I say, I love them), arugula (Laura calls it "Obama Spinach"), spinach, and onions. So... another salad bed. Geesh. Perhaps I need to plan this better for next year. Anyway, some pics so far:



Some of my radioactive-green chives



Raspberry floricanes starting to bud leaves next to my fence.




Wormwood seedlings




Leek starts hardening off next to the house




Finn trotting around the back yard. (He doesn't wear the leash anymore, since he's shown that he won't run out into the street and get killed.)


Also, my dill is sprouting heartily, the garlics are going crazy, and the peppermint is coming back from the abuse which I dealt it last winter.

I'm also going to plant a weed garden: things that are nutritious and delicious but denigrated as weeds. Dandelion, lambs quarter, sorrel, orach, burnet, purslane, and some calendula flowers thrown in for color!

As I write this, Finn is sitting my lap, purring, his chin on my right arm, little claws kneading my leg. Good Beethoven playing on the iTunes.

Apparently at this stage of my life, late night porn is good music, warm purring kittens, gardening, and a glass of wine. Did I mention the wine?

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Big Ideas

So, I'm taking this basic mountaineering course.  It's kind of weird to have people telling me things that I know by rote.  It's weirder still to try to explain to people why I'm taking the course.  "Wait," they say, "you've climbed that shit, on your own, and you're taking this class?"

Years ago, I did a series of leadership seminars.  Things that were intended to teach group dynamics, how to lead, what it means to lead, the downfalls thereof, etc. etc.  An interesting concept that I picked up from that was what they called (if I recall correctly) the chain of failure.  Namely, that after disaster or accident, be it major or minor, you can trace back the bad decisions that led to it, sometimes for years.  A chain of one bad decision after another.  The idea was to be able to identify, in the future, when you were starting to make bad decisions, and to see where they were leading you.

Personally, I'm a big believer in reading the signs of what the world is saying to you.  I feel like there's a reason why people experience strings of bad luck in their lives.  It has everything to do with how we lead our lives, and the decisions that we make on a daily basis.  If we start to notice things going downhill, it's time to stop and reevaluate.

But similarly, if all is well and we feel like we're in control, I think that it's time to stop and reassess the fundamentals.  Overconfidence has killed more than one person, or dream.  Sometimes the world helps out with that by kicking us with bad luck just as we think we've got it made, just to press the point home.

So I'm taking a fundamental climbing course after years of climbing solo on steep rock and in high mountains; after making expeditions up big peaks and new lines; after having taught this very stuff for years to rank beginners.  And each time I go, I find myself astonished that I'm learning something new.  I learn about technique that has changed since I started; I learn about the area, to which I recently moved; I learn about the ethics and style of my community; I learn about leadership in ways that I had not previously considered. 

And I learn about teaching.  I taught this very type of course for years and years back in Colorado.  But now, from the students' perspective, I see people teaching it to me.  They're very good, and I appreciate that.  But there is a constant and pervasive message of .... something.  Clanishness?  Entitlement?  I dunno.  I see the teaching staff treating the newbies as... something less.

That really resounds with me.  I think back, and I can remember doing the same thing.  I was full of accomplishments when I started teaching, full of daring, full of bravado.  I still am.  But now I'm on the other side of the bench.  I'm learning so much more than they intended to teach.  I'm learning what it means to be a teacher.  I can see and understand my fellow students' struggles, and I see where the teachers' curriculum is frankly absurd and doesn't advance the program.  But much more than that, I am starting to see how the sociology of groups plays such a huge part in learning.  When people feel that they are a part of something, and accepted, they can excel.  And if rejected... failure is a likely option for most.

That's a huge lesson, and it's not at all limited to my narrow little example. 

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Ich bau dir ein Haus aus Schweinskopfsülze



Goldfrapp, Lovely Head (cut short)

I seem to be struggling with an idea.   Ideas are funny things.  They can take a prominent role at one moment, but then fade into obscurity when reconsidered.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

It was a cold night

Black currants will arrive soon! I actually have a shitload to say, but that's all for now.  Mountains are coming up, and relationships are ... interesting for me, but what am I thinking about?  Planting my black currant bushes that will be here soon, that's what.

Avoidance is not altogether bad if it yields fruit.  I mean, literally.

Which is not to say that I'm forever avoiding, just displacing.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Sunshine, Go Away Today

impluvious: adj. wet with rain