Dirt Under The Nails

a lesson in fortitude

I have created a garden in every home I have lived in since the tender age of 21. The photo above is from a beautiful veggie and flower garden I put in years ago when we first built our planter boxes. Having a garden has always been a deep and important part of my existence here on earth.

My mom is a fantastic gardener and I have a memory of playing in the mud as she planted tomatoes. Both my kids grew up as “garden helpers.” My oldest girl, Chloe, loves the smell of soil and has a special place in her heart for earthworms. Earthworms are neat. They help break down produce discards in our compost and create that dirt-like crumbly substance known as “finished compost.” The finished compost is what you can put back into the garden to make the soil truly fertile. Our discards grow our future food! How cool is that?

While I don’t really want to hold or name earthworms like Chloe does, I do like these beneficial creatures enough to leave them undisturbed as they live happily in our compost. And that, it turns out, is a problem.

See, the finished layer of compost is always on the very bottom of the compost bin. Higher up are the worms, as well as various bugs and microorganisms munching away on the fresher compost and breaking it down. In order for me to get to the layer of compost that is ready to put in the garden as fertilizer, I would have to either dig way down to the bottom with a shovel, slicing some worms heads off in the process- or I could possibly turn the bin over which would dump all the worms out on their asses. My problem is, I can’t seem to do either when the worms are so cozy and happy eating up orange peels and chard stems. And that is why I am embarrassed to admit that I buy bags of compost from other people. People who don’t have issues upsetting their worms.

Anyway, look. What I really want to share today is that I started my Fall/Winter Garden last weekend. And it’s really exciting and all, because starting a garden always is. But there is something different about this time because I am going to REALLY do it: I am going to be the person who has the garden all year long. That’s the person I’ve always wanted to be. Not the person who stops for a season. Not the person who gives up in the last part of Summer and lets the beds dry out until Spring. NO. Not the person who quits because of birds, gophers, rats or a bad tomato year. Nope. Not anymore.

I would like to be the person who has the most awesome fertile soil year round. I plan to be the problem solver who makes Brad get his drill and nails and fix the broken garden bed. I SHALL be the person always carrying a basket of homegrown produce into the kitchen. I AM the person who isn’t afraid to kill a worm or two for the better of the garden.

‘Cause, enough of this start/stop bullshit, you know? I want to be growing with the seasons. Dirty, hot, cold, rainy, shovel, seeds, worms. Wiring the bottoms of planter boxes to keep out gophers. Who says that’s fun? NO ONE! How about cutting down a tree that shouldn’t be there. DEATH! It’s all part of it, people. Bailing out the finished compost, disturbing the worms (I’m gonna do it.) Cutting some in half as I shovel my way down to the finished compost. (Noooooooo!)

But seriously- the thing is, tonight I had to go water the seeds again and I was like… Ugh. It’s cold and dark I don’t want to do this. And I said to myself- Cory buddy, let’s reframe it. This is what you LOVE about gardening. Not what you hate about it. You love it because the seeds need water and you are giving water. Like that old Zen saying: Chop wood, carry water. What I think that saying really means is: Shut the fuck up and do your shit. Or, put in a bit more uplifting way: Doing the work, not thinking otherwise. (It’s kind of like exercising when you don’t think you want to, but with dirt under the nails.)

So I’m all in. As an experiment, you know? Hands dirty. Through the rough parts. Through the muck. Just being here with the changes as beautiful bounty becomes desolate death; the dry, stark, leafless end of life. Then. Compost. Seeds. They bloom. (You are a seed. I am a seed. ) Are you WITH ME? It’s time. It’s time! Have you not noticed? Because if you can’t bear down and get through the hard parts, My God! Then you’ll never see what stunning beauty you could have achieved. Period. End of story. (And beginning of story.)

In case you’re interested, here’s what I’ve planted so far. In seeds: carrots, lettuce mix, radishes, snap peas. various onions and leeks. Here’s what I planted in starters: kale, various lettuces, snap peas, broccolini, Brussels sprouts, chard. ( I like the Renee’s Garden brand of seeds. But there are other good choices. I strive for organic seeds whenever possible!)

I use what I can find around my yard to make fences to keep the dogs out and I bird net the top. Usually something goes royally wrong and I get vehemently angry. Lots of things went wrong this time (too many to list. Ask Brad.) And more will, that’s for sure. That’s what you can expect when I garden: issues. Well, it sure didn’t matter yesterday though because I got the garden started and now everything is settling into grow. Ah, beginnings.

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