 |
| The Scene: Garden Plot 2013 |
If this were a reality show you may suspect it would fit into a number of genres: Comedy, Drama, Horror, or D. All of the above. Of course it's only January, so I won't spoil anything by telling you the ending. I'll give you a hint that there will certainly be blood: it's gardening, there's bound to be blood somewhere along the way; sweat: need I say more; and probably a few tears: after paying my teenage nephews a dollar to eat a raw jalapeno I'll be laughing so hard I cry while they'll probably just be crying. There'll also be some happy tears at finishing all the tomato canning for the season and a lot of wrenching sobs as we say farewell to the tiller because we've finally abandoned it for sheet mulching. The season's going to be full of drama! I can picture it now -- How will we make room for the trellised cucumbers if the peas aren't ready to be pulled out?!?! The watermelon vines are wrapping their tantalizing tendrils around the feet of our corn stalks -- scandalous!! You mean I don't have to pick, cut, and freeze all the buckets of summer squash by myself everyday...How will I cope!?!? Stay tuned.
Up to now, Weldon and I have been relatively autonomous on the homestead. Perhaps we were hankering to show ourselves (and maybe some others) that we could do this. As we shifted gears away from a retail farming business last year, it became increasingly clear that inter-dependence within our immediate community and family is not only an invaluable resource but a necessity. We obviously never intended to be an island unto ourselves, but we also never figured we'd be so eager to join with others in raising our veggies, livestock, or bartering for milk and honey. We simply can't do all of this on our own and certainly not all at once. Our health and the longevity of our homestead is subject to this concrete reality. There's a balance that must be struck between independence and inter-dependence. Sometimes working to develop "our" way is better than doing it "my" way. Even if it's only for a season, these relationships and interchanges are precious, fostering a reliance that's hardly common in our compartmentalized and individualistic society. While I admit there's a part of me that's loathe to give up even an inch of our autonomy, the offer in front of us is simply too good to pass up.
After moving last September to a woodier lot with poor soil it didn't seem a wise investment of time and resources to begin a new garden plot at our home. Our plans to build a house in the near future will only uproot us in the next few years. We couldn't imagine keeping our fingers out of the soil for an entire season or more -- there had to be another answer! A few Sunday afternoon discussions with the extended family brought a solution to the surface. We all agreed that pooling the efforts of our three families (No mafia puns intended. Besides, I'm the only Italian in the bunch...) would not only be efficient, but fun and worthwhile. Undoubtedly, this year's garden will require a heightened level of coordination and patience as we all work out the kinks that inherently follow a new group venture. Any hesitancy on my end is far outweighed by the excitement of working together and the relief of not having to split the labor between just two of us.
It won't work if everyone involved isn't equally committed, capable, and generally pretty savvy. Thankfully, we are. My husband's parents have been organic gardening on this same 70 x 70 plot for over a decade. We introduced them to the marvels of sheet mulching in our own garden two seasons ago...they're hooked by the moisture retention, weed prevention, and soil building! They've always generously shared with all of us from their strawberry patch, green beans, corn, tomatoes, and "extras", so they figure what's a bit more to go around?! Our brother- and sister-in-law have brains, brawn, some garden experience, and strength in numbers to throw into the pot (nothing like a handful of nephews and a niece to enlist in the tasks). Call us crazy, but despite our myriad differences all of us actually get along quite well.
I'm a take-charge kind of gal so it's easy for me to wrap my head around a plan when a project looms in front of me. Thankfully, growing up the third girl in my family I also learned at an early age to file ranks, play nicely in the sand box, and to share. It may only be January, but this is typically when gardeners like me are ordering seeds, sketching plans, eyeing the calendar, and envisioning the best growing season they can imagine. We've had an ice storm and temperatures in the teens this past week and I'm dreaming about cucumbers, garlic, relish, spinach, salsa, and acorn squash. I can feel the thick humidity and the salty sweat that's sure to come with it. New in my mind's-eye I can picture the many hands making lighter work. The entire effort is sure to be an adventure, not without it's hiccups along the way. All the same, I'm glad kindergarten went as well as it did for me. I'm doubtful the dramas of our family garden will make it to prime time, but you can be certain I'll keep them posted!
No comments:
Post a Comment