Carrots in a Pot

I tried something new this year, growing my carrots in a pot. And it has worked, although they are tiny little things. I want to be a better gardener, and I'm getting a little bit better. I've been gardening since I was a kid, but I get overwhelmed easily, buy lots of things. In the case of the garden, lots of weeds, lots of plants. I have a natural propensity for saving. So if I came across a tomato plants that came up from seed, I'd want to nurture them along and then I'd have these extra tomatoes growing in the garden, smallish plants that never produce. But hey, here I am with carrots in a pot, nicely contained, not worm holes. Very exciting. Next year I'll add some manure so the soil is a little more nutricious. So I wonder how I can contain some of the things in my house, books in bookshelves, plants all in one grouping. Yes, I can get organized, eventually. I know I can.

Well I'm in the middle of getting dinner going. Soon my honey will be here. He's home from the Arctic, so I'm a happy camper. And he is too. He wants to do the entire garden ourselves next year. I like this idea. I've shared it this year, thinking it would help me get a handle on it. And it has. So with Honey's help next year, we'll have lots to eat, and perhaps some winter squash to put by. That would be nice.

Happy gardening,

Flower

Garden Goals

I was reading this morning from a little book called Gratitude: Affirming the GOod THings in Life about setting goals. Anything we want in life can be had by setting a goal toward reaching it. If we aren't supposed to have it, it won't come, but if we are, it gives us focus and clearity. It is exciting and life-affirming to make the steps toward something.

Now that I'm divorced, I have a new goal. It is to find a satisfying and healthy relationship. I beleive I've stepped into this territory a tiny bit and yikes, it's is very exciting surf. Anyway, I'll tell you more as I know more. For now I'll just say, I'm having some fun.

Now for the garden goal. My garden goal is to make the soil better. I have a friend who will help and I have some leaves to add--which you already know. I think blood meal might be good addition too. Perhaps chicken manure. As I've gotten to know the local neigbors around the pea patch, I've realized that chickens are also my neighbors. Since I now have a male gardener friend who can push a wheelbarrel better than me, I can get this work done.

So gardening as a single woman--this wouldn't be so hard if it were more of a social act. I really like to have someone working beside me.

Peace,
Flower

PS The snow is gone now! Oops, the floods are here.

You Have to Be Strong

When you're married, you have someone there with you who's strong, who picks up the pieces, who wraps an arm around you and says, It will be all right. When you're single, it can only be your friends and yourself. And some say spirit; however, I've never felt the arm of God around me. Figuratively, of course, but not physically. This is what I want, a tangible experience of Spirit and of man—eventually, that is. Many people say they are atheists, and although I can't say what is really there, I do know that the earth is there in abundance, enlivening everything. There has to be a force to make this happen. And then there is the old heart pumping away. How does this happen, this animation, without some great force making it all in the first place? These are questions that ring inside of me, waking me daily to the awe of life, reminding me to be full of joy. Here's a book I'm looking at by Julia Cameron

The garden is difinitely full of joy right now. Beautiful colorful flowers: zinnias, dahlias, sunflowers, cosmos, and glads shout with joy. I have a bouquet of dahlias in my kitchen right now. There are lovely shades of red and yellow and white. So full, plump petals vibrating with life. My sister likes to squeeze flowers and ooh over them. She is in the right profession, a wedding florist. I like to paint flowers, so much color, so much beauty.

Last night I saw Garrison Keillor at the Western Washington Auditorium. He was completely fabulous, such a professional. Such a talented man. Present, listening, making connections as the show unfolded. It was truly an enlivening experience. There was a outward expression of Spirit if I ever saw one. I was completely taken. Now I have a book to read and will enjoy every word of it. My friends Kelli Russell Agodon, Brenda Miller, and Nancy Pagh went with me. We had a blast.

Okay , then, must shower and get on with my day. Be happy and smell the flowers.

Flower

Cats and Cows

I've been a cat owner since I just out of high school. My first cat found me, a stray, sick kitten named Jude. She was a calico, with her colors muted and somewhat blended. Very beautiful, a great hunter—once brought home from the woods at Priest Lake a rabbit her size—and a good friend to me. She died when she was 18. Then along came Ozzie—also a great hunter. Now Ozzie loved the garden and when I'd turn over the soil in the spring, he'd grow excited. Once the new little shoots were an inch high, he trek out there and scratch in the soil—a wondrous potty box-- and scratch up all the plants. No matter how much I shooed him away, it happened.

So I'm passing on this invention to you—and it works—for cats at least. After you cultivate, plant your rows of lettuce or bock choi or whatever, and then break up a mess of sticks, just branches from pruning works, or they could be those little bamboo poles from the garden store, and push them into the ground every few inches along each row. I used the sticks from the pruning because there was no cost involved and I had an abundance of brush, since the wild vegetation grows like gangbusters around here. Now that the sticks are inserted, the garden looks a bit like a pincushion with 8" pins covering it and it works. Ozzie would just sit there looking at it, a disappointed look on his face. Once the plants are 3-5 inches tall you can remove the pins.

Now, cows in the garden isn't an ongoing problem, but if your neighbor grazes cattle right next to your yard, a whole herd can break down the fence and end up munching away in your bountiful garden of tomatoes and cabbage and lettuce and Jerusalem artichokes, and carrots. It happened to me and there they were and when I clapped my hands, they dashed this way and that, their weight just making huge holes in the garden, breaking down the plants, and not heading back to Woody's field. I had a friend who cut cattle and she said, you don't understand, you can't go straight at a cow. It's the way their eyes are, more on the sides of their heads than ours. She hurried over as they continued to romp through the garden, spooking as I waved my arms. I stopped, realizing that shortly they'd be stampeding. So she arrived and walked the perimeter calmly, coming in slowly from the back side. The cows shuffled and mooed and began to meander, walking the fence line toward the driveway and the road. It worked and Woody had them corralled in the field in no time. That was Yakima.

Here in Bellingham, I've only seen one cat in the community garden and it just ran off when I said hello. And the deer, I haven't caught red-handed yet.

Happy Gardening,
Flower

Sauk Mountain

Well, an amazing thing. I was just talking about tiger lilies and then I saw fields of wild tiger lilies on the hike up Sauk Mountain. Also Indian paintbrush, purple bells, johnny jump-up, yellow shooting stars, buttercup, and more. Our spring was longer than usual this year, and the mountains had record snowfall. There were snow fields at the top of the mountain, 5,000+ feet—I believe. Don't quote me on this, and the hike, with a number of switchbacks, was a little strenuous. Not for my friend, Peter, as he hikes all the time. But me, I'm a walk about girl. I usually do around 3 miles a day. Or perhaps more, with side trips to the store, the garden, the coffee shop. It all adds up, but in the end, I'm not much of a hiker these days. But I did fine. 2.5 miles up and 2.5 back. A nice little snack at the top--nuts and apple and Cliff bar. There was even a chipmunk that ate out of my hand. I know, I know, black plague, but there hasn't been any in our neck of the woods since…

With a long spring and berry bushes not blooming in the higher country the animals have come down lower to look for food. Lots of deer and bear, even in areas that are residential. I saw plenty of bear in the woods in Idaho, and recently in Joseph, a small black bear came walking up the road near the cabin. I'm only relaying the story, as I didn't see it with my own eyes, but from what everyone said, I'd just missed running into it by a few seconds. The bear can be dangerous, they do bite. They are looking for food, not trouble, however. If you see one, of course, make yourself big and growl or shout. With grizzles, you're supposed to play dead. And there are always trees to climb. Me, I just go the other way.

As for the garden, tomorrow I will tell you how it's going. Tonight I need some sleep, so later alligators.

Flower

Winter, again?

Photo: Last night's sunset down at the Alaska Ferry Terminal. (This isn't the Alaskan Ferry--it's a regular ferry that's being repaired)

This is supposed to be a week of warm weather—upper 70s and perhaps reaching the 80s. That is warm for the PNW. Seasonal temperatures. But the wind came up at sundown and during the night, after the shorts-and-sweater-day, the wind howled. I had had my bedroom window open, because my condo gets so hot. It's on the corner facing south. And there is no air conditioning, not that I would use air if I had it. I rarely use air in my car. I do, however, breath air. Lots of air. Except for when I'm afraid. And that actually applies to me right now, but that isn't what I'm getting at. Not my fear, but the weather. This is a gardening column, after all.

It's cold, is what I'm getting at. I had to shut the window in the night. My cat curled right next to my side; he never does that. I put on a sweater and pulled the second pillow against the non-cat side. This a.m. I'm seeing clouds, not dark dreary winter clouds, but gray clouds that came on the wind. Arctic wind. All the windows are closed.

So now I'm here with a hot cup of coffee, thinking about gardening and life. I had to move out of my house when my husband quit speaking to me. I decided today, that if I'd stayed in my house, I wouldn't have had such strong feelings of losing an entire life. Our belongings are part of what tells us we have history. We can look at things and say, I bought that back when gas was cheap. Or, like yesterday, I washed my down sleeping bag (could have used it last night) that I bought in 1970 after I got married for the first time. Jack and I bought all the latest and expensive hiking equipment. It was our plan to live off the land, to forage for berries and roots and to fish. We lost a lot of weight and ended up eating big meals on the weekends when we worked at the resort at Priest Lake. The survival manual I was reading at the time said a person would starve to death on just fish. One must eat fat. Well, we hardly even caught any fish. It was an exercise that had people talking—and laughing behind our backs. But we were into living off the land and were for years, growing our own food, raising chickens for eggs, goats for milk (see Storey's Guide to Raising Dairy Goats: Breeds, Care, Dairying. I'd actually like to do that again. A little plot of land to keep me would be lovely.

So my garden is growing slowly. I watered yesterday, didn't stick around because I had multiple things to do, and the garden is puny. It's depressing. Like I said, it needs manure. The beans are up, looking a little spindly and yellow. One had his first set of leaves bit off. Deer? Bird? Actually I'm not optimistic about this garden. It's the soil, or maybe ley lines. Do you know about the electromagnetic lines that wrap the earth? If they cross where you sleep, you can get sick. Just move your bed. A good diviner can help you with this. I'm a good diviner. Call me, okay?

So ley lines are natural courses of energy that crisscross the earth. Where they intersect is powerful, and useful in some natural way that I'm not familiar with. All I know is things don't work as well where they cross, too much energy I suppose. Animals seem to be drawn to this extra energy. A cat will curl up in it. It's possible that my garden is situated in a crossing of these lines. If that is true, I think it will need more than fertilizer to remedy the problem. First I'll try some chicken …..

This wooey moment has been brought to you by: Flower Power.
Ciao!