So hey there...
Been awhile, I know. Sorry man, it's been busy and I've been distracted.
But don't believe for a moment that I wasn't thinking of ya'all out there. 'Cause I was. Honest. Constantly.
There's much to catch all my adoring fans up with, but I'm going to skip all that and jump right into the meat of the matter.
Or rather, the vegetable of the matter.
Yes. I speaketh of Gardening, that holiest of pastimes.
I have a garden! His name is Fred!
We have lot's and lot's of fun together!
Sorry... I slipped into 2nd-grade essay mode for a second there.
Mary and I planted a garden last month (a first for either of us) in a small plot that my condo association provides its members gratis (that means free).
We shoved a bunch of tomato and pepper plants into the ground as well as a hefty sprinkling of carrot, pea, cucumber and (yuck) squash seeds.
And we stuck some strawberries and herbs in some hanging planters.
I honestly had no idea that so many different varieties of vegetable existed in all the world. The only other one I'd heard of was Arugula, and that was entirely due to the movie My Blue Heaven, starring Steve Martin.
Of course, I made it all sound so simple, "sticking things in dirt". I'm tricky like that, see...
For it is quite hard, in fact.
I'll explain, for I know that few people have ever undertaken the arcane art known as "Gardening".
Apparently, before you can garden, you must go to your local mom and pop gardening center, such as Lowes or Home Depot. There, the helpful staff will courteously avoid you as you wander aimlessly around, trying to figure out what to buy.
And when you finally do manage to track one down (generally using the tracking collars and dart guns in Aisle 4), they will stare at you blankly as you discuss what additives you need for the soil.
And let me pause for a moment there...
Additives. For the soil?!
Apparently dirt is not good enough for plants. I honestly had no notion of this fact. One wonders how Mendel and the Pharaohs managed to get by without these things. Or perhaps they existed back then. I have researchers looking into it.
In short, I have to assume that plants have become far more fragile in the last century or two (see footnote 2 below).
So anyway.
After you've finished talking at the blindly-staring yet still quite helpful staffers at the local mom and pop conglomerate (followed-up by phone calls to at least two friends or relatives to get "the real deal"), you load up your carts with plants, implements, additives and Manure (never forget the Manure... we paid for cow shit after all, so we must make sure to mention it) and pay for it all.
You then load your car down with all this (including the Manure; never did I think I would voluntarily put shit IN my car) and drive home.
After hauling it all down to the garden plot, you then spend the next few hours "tilling" the soil. A little-known fact is that the origin of the word "tilling" is a slang usage related to the fact that you spend the entire painful, sweaty ordeal mentally repeating to yourself "only a bit more 'Til it's done". This is the honest-to-god truth. I looked it up.
"Tilling" consists of taking highly-expensive variations of a pointed stick and poking them in the ground repeatedly. You then flip the disturbed dirt over.
This is, by the way, where the additives are... well... added; And the Manure. Never forget the Manure.
So... now your dirt is ready. Ignore for a moment that it looks pretty much the same (at least it smells worse, thanks to the Manure [never forget the Manure]). All the additives are in.
We're ready to plant!
At this point you take smaller versions of the expensive metal pointed-sticks and dig holes.
Now this is the tricky bit, because you have to vary the holes based on what you're doing.
For instance, if you are planting seeds, you need to dig one long, narrow, shallow hole, called a "Furrow" (from the latin Furromilus, which means "to dig a long, narrow, shallow hole").
If you're transplanting a plant (similar to the action of the same name involving human organs, but at slightly less cost), you need to dig a deeper, vaguely circular hole.
And of course, if you're burying a body clandestinely, you need to cut a layer of turf out roughly seven feet long by three feet wide and then dig a hole down at least six feet deep. You then chuck the body in, cover it with lime and a tarp and fill it back in, replacing the turf as carefully as possible, to conceal the location.
Or so I've heard.
Anyway...
So you've dug your holes, shoved the transplantees in (the plants, not any passing organ recipients) and sprinkled the seeds down the "furrow".
Now's the easy part. You put the dirt back in the holes, making sure not to crush the plants (you should try to crush the seeds as hard as you can though; you only want the tough ones to grow anyway).
Water the whole thing liberally.
You should probably do that last bit at least a few more times over the following months.
And at some point, vegetables will grow.
These vegetables are in every way superior to the ones you can buy at the Stop and Shop down the street.
For you see, those, you have to pay money for. These, you have to pay money and work up a decent sweat for. Oh yeah, and you have to handle Manure. Never forget the Manure.
So where was I?
Oh yes. So Mary and I did all the above (more or less). And some of the plant things have actually managed to survive for awhile!
We have a few verifiable cucumber, pea and (yuck) squash sitings. Carrots are a bit iffier, but some of those things might be carrots. The transplantees are doing... well... okay.
But we did manage to harvest our first two strawberries, and I have to say, as someone who has eaten well over two strawberries in his life, that these were the greatest-tasting strawberries in the history of agriculture. Rogier de Smucker himself couldn't have done a better job...
So I heartily recommend the Ancient and nearly lost art of Gardening to anyone interested in having some of these "vegetables". They're quite a treat!
Posted by Campbell at June 13, 2005 10:12 PM