Spreading the Peat, My New Best Friend

My mother was sitting in a garden chair in the shade of a willow tree, drinking ice tea, or lemonade, or a cold beer (I remember lots of details, but not always the tiniest ones,) and it was a hot day and I was digging holes to plant a few shrubs around the base of the willow tree. I'd read that sometimes plant roots hook into other plant roots and they have this symbiotic relationship that forms which makes them both grow better. So there I was, like I was saying, digging away in the heat of the Yakima day, while my Virginia raised mother, always makes me think of mint juleps and y'all for some reason, said to me, "My God, you work like a man."
I think I'd stopped what I was doing and leaned on my shovel, wiped the sweat from my brow and spit, then I took out a fag and lit it--cursing her southern upbringing. No, wait a minute, that didn't happen. I've reverted to my inner fiction writer--so easily I subcomb. What really happened is my feelings were hurt. I probably called in the testosterone and let him finish the job. I most likely went in and showered and cooked dinner and nursed the baby.

Those are my pink pants and my orange shirt. I think I'm wearing pearls.

Day Before "Sex and the City" Movie Night

Well, yes, I did dress up and go to dinner and movie last night with two of my friends. I wore a black flared skirt, sandals, a black camisole with a crimson loosely-knit tank over it. Now-mind you, I'm a jeans and T-shirt kind of gal. Dressing up is fun, but generally I feel conspicuous. That said, I polished my toenails and fingernails and applied eyeshadow and redder-than-usual lipstick, and topped it all off with a jean jacket. I have to admit, I like fashion, although I'm "well-put-together" according to my friends, I'm not fancy. I do like jewelry, but not expensive. I'm eclectic. So we went out and had sake and sushi and then went to the movie. Lots of gals dressed up. It was fun. And I thought the movie was good, not just Cinderella stuff.

But back to the garden—I was thinking how gardening and relationships are the same. You have to amend the soil of the relationship, and if you are my age—50s, you may be going through changes in your relationships you didn't ever see coming. I for one, am learning how to be my own woman. I am an artist as well as a gardener, and I do my life like gardening—start, stop, start, stop. How to be steady, I just haven't learned yet. How to get down on my knees and focus on a small area, I'm just so global. But with practice, good things come. Or at least, stuff gets done.

So yesterday, I emptied one bag of peat on half the garden. I started turning it in around the tomatoes and potatoes and where I've planted some beans. When I got to the patch of mint, I started digging out. It was strong, stronger than me—well at least physically. I kept at it though, and pulled out about half. Interesting how it grows along the roots, shooting up new stalks. I read a Jungian theory once—a marriage should be made up of two individuals, singularly being authentically real, connecting by the roots—like two big trees with connected roots. I like this idea. My soon-to-be-ex didn't want any connection with me. He wanted and wants to be making all the decisions, his way or the highway sort of guy. Well, how can I be eccentrically me and love someone who wants me to do and be what he says? He's a lonely man.

Lonely mint. All alone, broken and dying on the compost heap.

So I worked for an hour or so, digging and spreading peat. It was hot in the sun. Other gardeners came and went. One man said, sheez, you sure have a lot of weeds. They bring up nutrients from deep underground, I said. And see the worms. This is good, I'm feeling some pride. The soil is improving and so is my life.

Today, I'll work at it again. Garden and studio, and maybe my new friend will call me. He's been traveling and was supposed to be back yesterday. Huh! What should I wear? Should I buy some strappy heels?

Peat Moss, my new best friend!

Peat and I go way back. I remember as a kid being fascinated with peat bogs--all those farmers going out in the bogs in Ireland and hunking out bricks of the stuff with a shovel. How cool is that, all sweet and mealy and brown. Well, everyone is telling me that it will loosen my soil. One thing I'd like is for it to make it weigh less so when I'm turning it over, my back doesn't get so sore. My back got plenty sore just hauling the two bails into the back of my Subaru. I was going to haul it to the garden on my way home, but honestly, I was just too tired. I'd been on the shopping spree, picking up things I needed out on the Guide, one being a new table for my studio and when I got to Fairhaven, I stopped there first and hauled the thing up this massive flight of vintage stairs. I was done in after that. So tomorrow morning my plan is to haul Peat to the garden. I'll try to snap a shot or two of us getting chummy so you can see how hard I'm working—lazy gardener me. Ha!

Bugs, bugs, and more bugs.

My plot is in the foreground. See, what did I tell you? Now for my thoughts on bugs. There are bugs, and then there are bugs. This year there are a lot of ladybugs in the garden. This is good. Yesterday, I was down in bed most of the day with a stomach bug--ugh! Today, I'm mostly recovered and did get to the hardware/garden store and picked up two bags of peat moss. I really do have a bit of a job ahead of me, spreading it and turning it under. I read once that it is better to turn the soil by hand (well shovel), than to rototille. Now, I don't remember why. I think it had something to do with the tiller going too deeply into soil beyond the level of the top soil. My garden spot has already been scraped of some of its topsoil. They, the folks who once leveled out the site, did that in the beginning when the parcel of land was sectioned off for the plots. So my question is, can topsoil be rebuilt? My friend, Deb, author of Rainyside Gardeners web site says, you can do a wonderful job of rebuilding your soil by making a pizza of it in the fall, or is it lazagna? Which ever food group it is, at the end of the summer she piles on her garden beds: coffee grounds, table scraps, leaves, newspaper, and more leaves. She lets this food item compost over the winter and in the spring, plants right in to the newly built rich, worm laden soil. Whatever hasn't decomposed gets tossed back in the compost bin. Tons of wiggly worms are now part of your garden and the lovely rich soil is just a sniffable pleasure, what could be better?

All for now, gotta get some shuteye. N
P.S.
So I actually went home and stayed there after picking up the peat. I was beat, so I sat on the sofa and worked on my taxes (filed an extension with the ex). Hopefully it won't be raining tomorrow. We live in such a rainy climate that the minerals and salts wash out and up and every-which-way. The soil can easily get rinsed clean of what it needs--so amend, amend, amend, and praise the garden gods so it will be a good day to do so. Tomorrow--if the wind doesn't keep blowing and the rain doesn't come in during the night, I will be back at it.

Friday--grandbaby day

A view south from my plot. The netting is to grow beans up--I first thought it was to keep out the deer. We have marauding deer here--people love them and hate them. They are beautiful, and usually this time of year, the two babies trail the doe. It's sweeter than sweet, until they eat the new pea shoots and bite off all the lettuce sprouts. In m y Kingston garden I put up fishing wire as a fence. I heard that if you run a few lines of it around your garden, they'll touch their legs or chest against it and back away. They can't really see it. My deer must have been exceptionally smart, as they touched it then hopped over. I strung more line, the babies ducked under. After a while, I'd look out the window and see a mom grazing on blackberries (that's okay) and the baby inside the fenced area eating peas (that's okay.) Funny, it goes back to my theory that I must relax and not try to control. Life will unfold as it will. It's really chaos in action, it has it's moments of order, and then back to non-order.

So today the grandbaby is coming and we'll go to the garden. I'm motivated now that the weather is nicer. Last two nights the sunset was fabulous. Today, it looks like it could rain--but maybe it will just sprinkle and we can work a little, dig a little more, spread a little compost--or we could check out some nurseries, see what kinds of deals they have on peat. My daughter will be here soon, so I must get my coffee polished off.

Looking south from my plot, rhubbarb, and to seed Russian Kale.

Peat Moss

Well, I stopped at Fred Meyers, imagining these huge bags of peat moss I could lug to the garden and work in to the hard pan, but they had nothing but bags of potting soil and fertilizer, etc. Nothing I could use, so today I went to Joe's Garden and picked up a head of lettuce--the vegie plugs aren't ready yet-- and two bags of compost.

Monday's and Fridays I keep my grandbaby, so today we went to the garden together. He carried the short bamboo sticks I use to mark rows through the fairly high grass. It rained a little, probably enough to not worry about watering in the tomato plants I got at the food co-op--cherry 100s and beef steak.

Tonight, I feel good I got something done, and overwhelmed--two bags of compost won't be enough--I'm sure of it. I'd still like some peat. I think it will loosen the soil. But getting out in the garden is a good thing to do in the evening. My life is so different now, without a husband. I like it in many ways, and in other ways, it is lonely. Not as much now--but still sometimes I pine for the way it was. Evenings in the garden together, walks at dusk. I just do it myself now. I'm better for it in many ways. Circling myself, instead of a husband.

My Garden Plot #18

Well, I have a garden plot. It's about 10 x 20 and has bad soil. Everyone gives me advice. Just do a little weeding at a time and you'll get it done. Another person said, oh, that plot has bad soil. You don't have to tell me. I water it and pull weeds and big hunks of soil comes out attached to the roots. It's clayish--devilish, plowed free of topsoil. All the stuff up top of the parcel next to Padden Creek was scraped downhill to level out the community gardne. Whatcom County Parks owns the place. It's cheap to rent, only $18.00 per year. And you have to do a good job or you'll be dinged. How you get dinged, I don't know. But someone was out there with a clipboard last year noting something on a sheet of paper. My neighbor defended me. "She's going through a divorce. She's in school. She's very busy right now. He nodded," she siad. I got a little miffed at the possiblity that I might get a letter shaming me for neglecting bad soil. The way I see it, it's already been neglected, I have a rescue mission that I must undertake. I'd like to improve it, so I'll add the peat for starters. I'll let you know how it goes.