This year’s ‘farm’ – three types of tomatoes (one a late variety, so that I can be home to enjoy them), two types of peppers; along the fence, dill, lemongrass, chives and marigolds to protect them all.
It’s been raining and raining. Wednesday we had a break, though it was quite unseasonably cool, but that day was taken up by many strange errands out in the world. Yesterday, we had another, and the temperature went up a bit; I got to spend the day in the garden, and got the vegetables and herbs planted, finishing the last of the porch herb pots just as it began to rain again. Today is a grey, misty maybe.
Only a wee bit of the massive hospital p/t rooms. I’ve spent a lot of time here the past couple of months.
During the rains, I’ve been: trying to keep up with the currently lengthy p/t sessions, Chance training (and Chance-curing; he was ill for three days, recovering now), working on the horrendous state of the house (with not much effect in ratio to labor), dealing with upcoming shows (one of which I dropped the ball on, badly), and some new health issues (annoying and time-consuming only.) When the rain stops, my brain and body are all about two things: garden and health. I’ve finally been given the green light to walk again, after new required shoes and lessons from the therapist on how to walk now (I’m to build up distance – and pace – very slowly.) I’m only up to ¾ of a mile, but it feels so good.
The snazzy (and least costly) ridiculously expensive running shoe color on an actual sunny day.
Mostly, it’s garden. I’m totally absorbed, and there’s much to do. As small as it is, it’s also the most land I’ve ever had, and the only patch owned. It always makes me marvel at the abundant and tenacious life in the concrete-bound city, at the neighborhood as ecosystem. An amazing assortment of plants have wandered in and volunteered to stay over the years and I’ve now been living and planting here long enough to see some of my own contributions travel around.
Volunteer tulips that showed up as a single tiny plant about five years ago. There were no bulbs in this patch of soil, so they must have propagated by seed, which is supposed to be very difficult. There are no purple tulips anywhere nearby, so where they came from is a happy mystery.
One of the unpleasant things about the city is all the chopping back that has to be done to maintain (even to my haphazard, untidy standards) a small yard; I would love to live somewhere where things could just grow and grow and grow. (But then I’d need a motorized office-garden chair.) The other not-great aspect is neighbors who use copious amounts of chemicals and weed-poison sprays, which is why my tomatoes and peppers and most of the herbs are grown in pots.
The smallest spring garden center purchase ever, before planting; the veggies and herbs that didn’t survive the winter, plus one perennial I just could not resist: the native wildflower called prairie smoke (which I have never actually seen growing on the prairie.)
That’s my quiet current world: running out to do equal parts of clearing, planting, dividing, chopping back and relocating plants when the skies let me, and happy with it. And apart from walking on my own, there has been an increasing series of loose-leash, treat-laden, and actually fun walks with Chance; I’m hoping we’re over a hump. We go a little farther each day, and I hope soon our walks can be combined and enjoyed by both of us. The neighborhood lilacs have been sending out their ribbons of scent on the wind, and when we can be out, it’s grand.
Just outside the kitchen: basil pot, spicy oregano, purple sage, cilantro / coriander pot (self-seeded), summer savory, rosemary, lemon thyme, tarragon…
Out in the ether-world, perhaps in a bit of a stretch, I was surprised when the Exo-studies appeared on a basketry site, (thank you!) And out in the physical world, as of early this week, there was only a single spot left in my seven-day August class at WSW. There are still spaces left at Peters Valley and the Morgan!