Some of my earliest memories are of my father in a circa 1970's Speedo, standing over our backyard vegetable garden with a hose in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Actually if he was feeling particularly coordinated he had the hose in one hand, a beer in the other and a cigarette sticking out of his lips at the perfect angle to avoid getting smoke in his eyes. He grew his own vegetables because it was healthier.
Looking down the line of backyards through the chain link fence it was a similar vision, with the fathers, their Speedos and their vegetable gardens. The women seemed to prefer the more genteel activities of the day like doing their nails and popping valium.
I took after my father. I loved vegetable gardening from day 1 and couldn't get over how amazing it was that you could plant a little spec of something and come back a few months later and find food. Actually that's modern day me talking. When I was little I could barely wait the 3 weeks it took to make a radish. Part of the other reason I got so into vegetable gardening was the fact that there was a huge, family owned organic (wayyyy before organic was a thing) vegetable seed distributor near our house. William Dam Seeds was promoting organic seeds and growing when that sort of thing was just plain weird. A passing phase for sure.
I went through their seed catalogue the way most kids would go through a toy catalogue. I grew butternut squash and Rainbow Swiss Chard and other things my mother looked sideways at. She hated gardening by the way. Still does. Why grow peas that didn't even have a can surrounding them? It didn't make any sense.
So when our community garden needed someone to organize their plant sale this year guess who volunteered!! Not me. I have too much stuff to do. No, my name was forwarded, nominated and elected without me ever raising my hand. So, as it turns out, I organized the plant sale.
Where I sold chicken eggs.
And yes, plants.
There are about 50 members in our community garden and it's the widest range of people you could imagine. Everyone from University students to octogenarians, black, white, gay, straight, they are all at the community garden. It's great.
This fine lady is from Zimbabwe for example and showed me how to till the soil "African Style" with a massive, frightening looking hoe. Africans apparently don't do shovels.
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From Earl the octogenarian I learned you cannot trust someone not to steal just because they're an octogenarian. Sticky fingers that Earl. Just kidding. Earl is GREAT and I'm pretty sure he's everyone's favourite gardener. He even likes me even though he knows I swear when the weather is cold.
This vintage egg holder was the perfect thing for holding individual cells of plants. It would also be perfect for ice cream cones but it's still too cold out. Shit. GARGTFF. Shit. Sorry Earl. Just kidding by the way. It was cold the day of the plant sale but it's currently a bazilliokajillmazillion degrees.
Yup. My Rough Linen Pinafore. The big pockets were great for collecting money. That I had pickpocketed.
If you have a small organization this kind of thing is a great way to raise money by the way. We rocked it. A bunch of people (myself included) volunteered to grow plants and everyone who didn't grow plants showed up to buy some. We had a HUGE variety of stuff like cabbages, brussels sprouts (yeah they didn't get the note about how gross brussels sprouts are), an insane variety of heirloom and rare cherry tomatoes, my mix of heirloom tomatoes, ground cherries, turnip, herbs, aloe plants, onions, heirloom leeks, 3 different types of kale and a bunch of other stuff. That's my excellent story telling ability showing it's head there. "A bunch of other stuff" is often seen in great literary works of fiction.
You know one of the reasons I really wish my father was alive is so he could see just how much I've embraced vegetable gardening. I'm sure he'd be proud of the gardens I keep and all the work I put into it all. My mother? Well she's just proud I don't do it in a Speedo, with a beer in one hand and a cig in the other.
Have a great weekend!
christine
Speaking of gardening,the rhubarb is ready so once again I'm cursing that asshat Mindy and her cake I can't stop eating.
Karen
I have so much rhubarb I don't even know what to do with it! I'd better just start picking it and freezing it I guess! ~ karen
pat
Black Krim; I've never had a problem growing tomatoes until I purchased a Black Krim plant last year. Never again. The plant wilted every time the sun shone while all the others types of tomatoes flourished. I babied that thing through the summer and said never again. If my plants can't handle what I think are normal conditions, they're not going to last long in my garden! Anybody else have this issue?
Cindy
I love that you have a community like this. We don't have that in my neck of the woods.
I'm def gonna look up the Fibre Optic plant. So cool.
What is Black Krim??
Love your display signs Karen. You got a DIY how-to on them??
Karen
Well. They're from Dollarama. :) The display signs, not the Black Krim. The one for the eggs is just a frame that I stick a piece of blackboard in. Black Krim is one of my favourite varieties of tomato. :) ~ karen!
Kelli
What, you tease us with a description of "hot" dad in Speedos, beer and cig, yet you don't post a photo? The .
It would only be a more perfect "dad photo" if that fashion statement were completed by loafers (or even oxfords) and black socks. OOH. WEE.
Speaking of Speedos...my bro's were swimmers all through high school and they and their teammates were very fit, but even they looked questionable in 'em at times. Hey, even Rod shouldn't do them any more! http://tinyurl.com/hk8lvmc *grimace* *shudder*
btw, you look adorbs in your gardening pinafore!
Heather (mtl)
My mother had a veggie garden when we were young, but I also recall my grandmother's garden in the countryside of Halifax, NS. I still miss spending summers there (oh! the wild blueberries! She lived on a hill made of blueberries and we'd make Blueberry Grunt- yumm!) She was the epitome of pioneer as she chopped her own wood, recycled (flattened all her tins) and burned whatever she could. The compost pile was huge, the rain barrels huge and the freezer full (freeze whole cleaned fish in sea water with their tails sticking up for identifying)
Gardening is soo much more than visiting a plot of land, as I have grown to know.
Besides, on the days when my arthritis pain makes me cranky, working in the garden can be a wonderful distraction. At least I'm getting out, right?!
Thought: if you get more than 1 chicken, how about a contest to name her?
PS: my laptop (chrome) is slowing on your site again. I've cleaned the cache already.
Karen
Hey Heather! let me know if there are any video ads running. That is apparently what slows things down. Companies are using flash videos for advertising which are basically obsolete, which means the browsers don't support them anymore. In a year or so Flash will be gone completely. But until then I've asked my advertising supplier to stop running all video ads on my site. I was under the impression that was to start today but if your site is slow then maybe not! ~ karen
Rondina
I think you should interview the lady from Zimbabwe and show how she gardens differently than we do. (Showing the massive hoe.)
Karen
That's a good idea Rondina! Even what she grows is different. They don't like sweet corn, they like corn that's ... more like cow corn really! Actually she has promised to teach me to make African polenta if I show her how to make a cob oven. I think she's getting the easier deal, lol. Her mother used to cook in cob in Zimbabwe but she never learned how to. So apparently I'm much more African than she is. ;) ~ karen!