Order in the chaos — GUG’s Vertical Garden
Picture it. 2008, not Sicily. I am at the community garden, the only gardening space available to me. Standing there with my tow-headed kiddo, staring at my garden plot, silently. Struck.
It was planted. Those stupid little popsicle sticks poked through those stupid little empty seed packets. Scattered around *my* garden plot in some sort of stupid order I did not design.
But I already planted my garden. Plotted out meticulously on my graph paper, and planted carefully. Without the stupid decor.
Somebody else literally planted their garden over mine. Some stupid random asshole who clearly needed help with their numbers and alphabet, as the large square stakes were labeled clearly.
What the I'm sure accidental soil thief did not know is that I was barely hanging on mentally and this garden, this opportunity to grow something lovely, was one of the few things I actually found joy in.
I was crushed. The last bit of thread I was swinging from dropped into the over-seeded dirt. I literally stood there for lord knows how long. Not even sure I cried, I was that crushed. I had nothing to give. It broke me. Called my exuberant kiddo over and went back home.
Soon enough, I got help and built my life back up from there. Saw all I actually had and gained some perspective and other far overdue skills.
So when I talk of my garden as my sanctuary, my joy, that comes from a personal place. And it's not hyperbole. Difference is now, I gain joy from so many other things too. These days I am reading again, currently the Prairie Trilogy (Willa Cather). My kids bring me joy, they are doing well, thank all the gods. I am being annoyingly fastidious about what media I feed my brain. Political news is dosed, sourced. When I hit my limit, I am done. Social media is curated to be uplifting and positive content. I avoid FB and Tiktok, Snapchat and X. I am watching Game Show Network, TCM, The Weather Channel and The Gilded Age, unabashedly so. Need to get back to watching Below Deck, that crap will do me some good.
I am here, every single Saturday, to share in the joy of our gardens.
It's nice being in a better place. Last year, when the flood killed so much of the garden and I stopped sharing my harvest, it did not hit me as hard as it could have. My joy for gardening was reduced, far fewer sits out on the patio, but the loss did not gut me.
That said, it mattered. Especially now, when finding the happy things gets harder.
Shall we move on to the verdant palate cleansers?
Fall Gold and Heritage Red Raspberries, just coming in now
Peach Swirl Rose
Unknown mushroom and a Concerned Pup
Morning Glow Rose — Survived a very hard winter
ARTICHOKE!!! I did it!
Florida Moonlight and White Star Caladium — bunnies ate some of the other two plants
The title photo is dinner I made a few days ago. The cherry-shallot sauce was good but not great, so I am not going to share the recipe (found online). The new potatoes were from the garden. That dish was baby taters tossed in a seasoning mix, extra thyme, olive oil and a pinch of sugar. Roasted at 400 degrees for 25-30 minutes. Peas were steamed and tossed with butter, salt and pepper, nothing fancy.
Gratefulness Exercises, Garden Edition.
My garden attracts so many good critters, she’s a habitat for birds, fireflies, wasps and butterflies.
My garden gives me exercise, vitamin D and an opportunity to leave the house for respite.
My garden is always gifting me snacks! These days it’s raspberries and peas.
My garden is beauty.
My garden is proof of good things.
My garden is community, she connects me with the people I care for here at SMGB.
Thank you for reading.
