Garden of Hope
Pennsylvania endured about the hardest and coldest winter in recent memory.
One change: Global Warming is now referred to as Climate Change. Take note Al Gore. Since Spring has been stumbling in like a drunken man in fits and starts, the warming weather hopefully promises gentle winds and smiling sunshine.
Hence, I have reasserted my agrarian endeavors. I gave up for a couple of years on growing a garden. I had moved from my previous house in less than wonderful circumstances. But one good consequence is that I left the family of groundhogs who had treated my garden as their personal produce stand behind.
The crushing blow was when I saw one of the evil beasts climbing my fence like a jungle gym while I peered on from the Great Room. I am pretty sure that I contracted Lyme's Disease in my epic battles. I had caught a possum in my trap and was trying to see him free from the cage, rather than have my 22 toting Rambo neighbor, put a slug in his cranium--and the stupid creature would not let go of the cage.
How like man. We hold onto our cages thinking that they protect us but instead are prisons. After ten minutes of smashing the trap on the ground, the possum became dislodged. But, in the meantime I am fairly certain that a tick on his body switched its host--to me. In the midst of writing my Ph.D. Dissertation, it was splendid to suffer the maladies. I am pretty certain that it took over two years for the Lyme's the clear up.
I felt cursed by God in the battle versus the groundhog. On my legendary 40 Day 40 Pennsylvania Microbrew Tour back in 2010, I had the opportunity to take out a groundhog scurrying across the entrance to the Interstate outside of State College. I wanted to so badly crush him/her to strike back at the species. But then I quickly thought that this wayward groundhog was not personally guilty of my garden destruction. Plus, and this is the more significantly persuasive issue, I figured that running the beast over would probably crack my axle. The groundhog, dying from it blow, raising its paw in species triumph as it perished.
My townhouse has fence around the back yard and in my year and a half of residence, I have yet to see a groundhog, or rabbit, or other vermin. There are two feral cats than make the rounds who look surprising plump for residing in the wild. The neighbors feed them. I heard my Latina neighbor calling them in Spanish the other day so apparently they are also multilingual. The cats did sleep outside, in under zero degree weather, in my backyard. So, I respect their hardiness.
We go through seasons in life, there are times of letting go as in Fall. Times of freezing our souls with Winters of Despair that never seem like they will end. Summer is hot but also a period of fun and happiness (and some time off of school). Spring is the best though. It caresses the cold from our bones. Actually, I like Fall best but if we have another Winter like last I will associate the Fall with the return of the cold and curse the skies.
Here are some pics of the garden with commentary:
The back of the yard is balding and like an Old Man's comb-over, the grass was spotty. I decided that was where I was going to dig for the garden...
One change: Global Warming is now referred to as Climate Change. Take note Al Gore. Since Spring has been stumbling in like a drunken man in fits and starts, the warming weather hopefully promises gentle winds and smiling sunshine.
Hence, I have reasserted my agrarian endeavors. I gave up for a couple of years on growing a garden. I had moved from my previous house in less than wonderful circumstances. But one good consequence is that I left the family of groundhogs who had treated my garden as their personal produce stand behind.
The crushing blow was when I saw one of the evil beasts climbing my fence like a jungle gym while I peered on from the Great Room. I am pretty sure that I contracted Lyme's Disease in my epic battles. I had caught a possum in my trap and was trying to see him free from the cage, rather than have my 22 toting Rambo neighbor, put a slug in his cranium--and the stupid creature would not let go of the cage.
How like man. We hold onto our cages thinking that they protect us but instead are prisons. After ten minutes of smashing the trap on the ground, the possum became dislodged. But, in the meantime I am fairly certain that a tick on his body switched its host--to me. In the midst of writing my Ph.D. Dissertation, it was splendid to suffer the maladies. I am pretty certain that it took over two years for the Lyme's the clear up.
I felt cursed by God in the battle versus the groundhog. On my legendary 40 Day 40 Pennsylvania Microbrew Tour back in 2010, I had the opportunity to take out a groundhog scurrying across the entrance to the Interstate outside of State College. I wanted to so badly crush him/her to strike back at the species. But then I quickly thought that this wayward groundhog was not personally guilty of my garden destruction. Plus, and this is the more significantly persuasive issue, I figured that running the beast over would probably crack my axle. The groundhog, dying from it blow, raising its paw in species triumph as it perished.
My townhouse has fence around the back yard and in my year and a half of residence, I have yet to see a groundhog, or rabbit, or other vermin. There are two feral cats than make the rounds who look surprising plump for residing in the wild. The neighbors feed them. I heard my Latina neighbor calling them in Spanish the other day so apparently they are also multilingual. The cats did sleep outside, in under zero degree weather, in my backyard. So, I respect their hardiness.
We go through seasons in life, there are times of letting go as in Fall. Times of freezing our souls with Winters of Despair that never seem like they will end. Summer is hot but also a period of fun and happiness (and some time off of school). Spring is the best though. It caresses the cold from our bones. Actually, I like Fall best but if we have another Winter like last I will associate the Fall with the return of the cold and curse the skies.
Here are some pics of the garden with commentary:
The back of the yard is balding and like an Old Man's comb-over, the grass was spotty. I decided that was where I was going to dig for the garden...
I had called 811 to make sure I knew where the underground lines were buried. One of the utilities or communication companies missed one. Dead in the middle of the dirt. I gashed it a bit and had to call 811 back. No response from the possible parties. Must be Sprint/Embarq/Century Link. Any company that has to change its name 3 times in 10 years is running from something. Incompetency most certainly...
I had purchased the cedar raised garden planks from ACE Hardware. In an odd twist, the online deal were $ 10 less per square than the exact ones in the store. So, I saved 30 bucks. I also got a great deal on some top soil. 40 pound bags for $1.99. I bought twenty bags and it was much harder unloading the car to the garden than I imagined. It was a good lesson of just sticking with it and taking it one bag at time...sometimes it is wise to not think about the big picture and just keep your head down.
I tried to make the dirt not an angle but it still has a bit of a downward slope. My buddy Rob told me that I needed to keep the ditch intact for water drainage. He is much smarter than me in many ways so I heeded his advice.
I have a friend whose family owns a greenhouse and they just bought an old abandoned garden center and rehabbed it back to health. So, I bought my plants there...Frey's down on Columbia Ave. Raised gardens with premium top soil maximize and optimize several gardening variables. I have not a clue what they are but am taking it on faith.
Tonight I had fresh cilantro with my toasted tortillas--Salsa, Greek Yogurt, and fresh Cilantro. Cinco De Mayo Baby. My buddy at Frey's advised me on how to keep the Cilantro from going to seed. Pick the outside stalks consistently. It pays to ask questions of someone who knows.
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