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Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts
13 July 2010
17 September 2007
Gardening Like It's My Job
Well, I've found some honest work out here in Seattle, something to help pay the bills. And wouldn't you know, I'm gardening! Are you surprised? These past three weeks I have been digging my little fingers into people's yards: weeding, pruning, raking, deadheading. It is a strange time to begin a gardening career, but with Seattle's mild climate there are things to do year round. Who else will manicure this city's "better homes & gardens"?
I work on a team of three people, and we drive this big, old truck all over north Seattle and some on the east side (that is the east side of Lake Washington... where Bill Gates lives). We work on a variety of different gardens, mostly private homes. BIG private homes.
It's a decent job so far. I work four 10-hour days with a 5-mile bike ride tacked on at each end. As the days get colder and grayer and rainier, I may have to finally embrace my coffee girl career. I'm still looking for the perfect job, but until then I'm pretty happy to be among the plants.
I work on a team of three people, and we drive this big, old truck all over north Seattle and some on the east side (that is the east side of Lake Washington... where Bill Gates lives). We work on a variety of different gardens, mostly private homes. BIG private homes.
It's a decent job so far. I work four 10-hour days with a 5-mile bike ride tacked on at each end. As the days get colder and grayer and rainier, I may have to finally embrace my coffee girl career. I'm still looking for the perfect job, but until then I'm pretty happy to be among the plants.
06 September 2007
My Garden
When I first moved into my new home, the backyard was nothing but crabgrass with a blackberry-covered fence running along all three sides. There were hints of what used to be a garden beside the neighbors' shed and along the back edge, but it had been overcome by weeds. My roommate claims that in it's glory days, more than half the yard was fill with vegetables and flowers. But no longer. Don't get me wrong, we have a nice yard; it's large enough- if we had the notion- for a good game of badminton or lawn volleyball. But it lacks pizazz.
So with the help of my good friends Rachel (pictured above; so happy about the little babies growing beneath the soil) and Andrew, we dug up two small plots for all kinds of green life. One plot was set aside for mostly veggies: beets, snap peas, shelling peas, three types of lettuce, three types of tomatoes, and three types of peppers. I did sprinkle some nasturtiums and marigolds in there to help keep the bugs away (yea, companion planting!). Ambitious, I know, but playing it safe wasn't why I got into gardening in the first place... I'm a rebel gardener.
The long garden bed across the back fence was reserved mostly for flowers. Flowers and more tomatoes. What can I say! I'm a sucker for home-grown tomaters. Once you experience the brilliant color and sweet, juicy flavor of a home-grown, you'll never go back! But these were cherry tomatoes: sungold, porter's dark cherry, and juilet. I also planted an heirloom called the "Pineapple" tomato. Nothing like it's sister, the cherry tomato, this yellow and red-striped monster grows impressive, one-pound tomatoes! I got it at the University of Washington's annual plant sale where people camp out at "six-in-the-mo'nang" in order to battle for the best cultivars in the tomato tent. I kid you not! We're talking some dedicated tomato lovers. I got there at noon and the only thing left was the Pineapple... we'll see how it grows. The flowers were basically whatever pretty picture on the seed packet impressed me most. They were tossed about in a wildflower-like fashion around the tomatoes. I'm not an obsessive weeder; if it's green and it's not hurting anyone, I'll let it go. The garden had a bit of a bedhead look to it.
My garden wouldn't have won any prizes, but it brought me some happiness and a little food. Having a garden was just as good as getting a dog. Less cuddling, but no pooper-scoopers. A garden can be a girl's best friend. Now it is September and most of the flowers have lost their spunk. We haven't eaten our last tomato (still waiting on the Pineapple), but things are winding down. I'd like to take advantage of Seattle's mild climate (they don't call it the Emerald City for nothing), but who knows. Maybe I'll spring for some Hostas. Maybe even some ferns.
So with the help of my good friends Rachel (pictured above; so happy about the little babies growing beneath the soil) and Andrew, we dug up two small plots for all kinds of green life. One plot was set aside for mostly veggies: beets, snap peas, shelling peas, three types of lettuce, three types of tomatoes, and three types of peppers. I did sprinkle some nasturtiums and marigolds in there to help keep the bugs away (yea, companion planting!). Ambitious, I know, but playing it safe wasn't why I got into gardening in the first place... I'm a rebel gardener.
The long garden bed across the back fence was reserved mostly for flowers. Flowers and more tomatoes. What can I say! I'm a sucker for home-grown tomaters. Once you experience the brilliant color and sweet, juicy flavor of a home-grown, you'll never go back! But these were cherry tomatoes: sungold, porter's dark cherry, and juilet. I also planted an heirloom called the "Pineapple" tomato. Nothing like it's sister, the cherry tomato, this yellow and red-striped monster grows impressive, one-pound tomatoes! I got it at the University of Washington's annual plant sale where people camp out at "six-in-the-mo'nang" in order to battle for the best cultivars in the tomato tent. I kid you not! We're talking some dedicated tomato lovers. I got there at noon and the only thing left was the Pineapple... we'll see how it grows. The flowers were basically whatever pretty picture on the seed packet impressed me most. They were tossed about in a wildflower-like fashion around the tomatoes. I'm not an obsessive weeder; if it's green and it's not hurting anyone, I'll let it go. The garden had a bit of a bedhead look to it.
My garden wouldn't have won any prizes, but it brought me some happiness and a little food. Having a garden was just as good as getting a dog. Less cuddling, but no pooper-scoopers. A garden can be a girl's best friend. Now it is September and most of the flowers have lost their spunk. We haven't eaten our last tomato (still waiting on the Pineapple), but things are winding down. I'd like to take advantage of Seattle's mild climate (they don't call it the Emerald City for nothing), but who knows. Maybe I'll spring for some Hostas. Maybe even some ferns.
07 August 2007
In the beginning...
I moved to Seattle eight months ago, and fully intended to begin my blogging back then. I wanted to be able to share my new life with friends and family far away. I don't know if it was the dreariness of January (and February... and March and April..) or the sudden isolation of moving across the country to a foreign city where I knew not a soul, but I couldn't bring myself to embark on this internet adventure during those lonely days of winter. I had nothing to say.
Come spring, the mood had lightened: clouds parted, rain ceased, the sun shone... occasionally. I had gotten my seattle legs and felt a growing comfort in the jostling city. I felt happy walking the streets of my new neighborhood, finding the local farmers markets and attending the monthly square dances. Each day I strolled along the garden-lined streets to work, searching for the latest green shoots and emerging blossoms. And even when the gray clouds inevitably returned to cover the sky, I felt the aching gratitude of the infant plants as if it were my own. These experiences in my new environment help assuage my loneliness and bring hope for the coming season. But the bloggersphere still loomed like a mountain... a giant, glacier-topped mountain. I still could not bring myself to start typing.
Late April saw the first of many visitors to my urban dwelling. Old friends brought warmth back into creaky limbs and together we dug up my backyard and planted my first garden. Through the clear summer days, I've watched my garden grow taller and bushier: peas, lettuce, tomatoes, beets, and dozens of flowers. The beautiful northwest summer was filled with new friends, visiting with old ones, Olympic expeditions, trips up north (some disastrous), Harry Potter, and at long last, the arrival of the bike brigade. We spent the summer cooking good food, eating good food, and dancing to good music whenever possible. With a little nudge from a friend, I finally bought property out in inter-space and got my very own blog address.
I just returned from my first visit to Massachusetts since January. I spent almost two weeks at home with family. I witnessed the marriage of my youngest brother to his high-school sweetheart, and there was much celebration. I felt the comfort of familiar people and places; feeling at once at home again in the soft mountains and deciduous forests of New England. I visited with my boyfriend's family in Vermont and canoed the Ompompanoosuc in early morning fog. But now I am back again. Waiting. Waiting for my partner to come join me; waiting for someone to hire me; waiting for my oven to be fixed so that I can begin baking scones like it's my job (if only...). But at least I've started my blog. (I'll try to keep the entries shorter next time. Thanks for reading!)
Come spring, the mood had lightened: clouds parted, rain ceased, the sun shone... occasionally. I had gotten my seattle legs and felt a growing comfort in the jostling city. I felt happy walking the streets of my new neighborhood, finding the local farmers markets and attending the monthly square dances. Each day I strolled along the garden-lined streets to work, searching for the latest green shoots and emerging blossoms. And even when the gray clouds inevitably returned to cover the sky, I felt the aching gratitude of the infant plants as if it were my own. These experiences in my new environment help assuage my loneliness and bring hope for the coming season. But the bloggersphere still loomed like a mountain... a giant, glacier-topped mountain. I still could not bring myself to start typing.
Late April saw the first of many visitors to my urban dwelling. Old friends brought warmth back into creaky limbs and together we dug up my backyard and planted my first garden. Through the clear summer days, I've watched my garden grow taller and bushier: peas, lettuce, tomatoes, beets, and dozens of flowers. The beautiful northwest summer was filled with new friends, visiting with old ones, Olympic expeditions, trips up north (some disastrous), Harry Potter, and at long last, the arrival of the bike brigade. We spent the summer cooking good food, eating good food, and dancing to good music whenever possible. With a little nudge from a friend, I finally bought property out in inter-space and got my very own blog address.
I just returned from my first visit to Massachusetts since January. I spent almost two weeks at home with family. I witnessed the marriage of my youngest brother to his high-school sweetheart, and there was much celebration. I felt the comfort of familiar people and places; feeling at once at home again in the soft mountains and deciduous forests of New England. I visited with my boyfriend's family in Vermont and canoed the Ompompanoosuc in early morning fog. But now I am back again. Waiting. Waiting for my partner to come join me; waiting for someone to hire me; waiting for my oven to be fixed so that I can begin baking scones like it's my job (if only...). But at least I've started my blog. (I'll try to keep the entries shorter next time. Thanks for reading!)
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