Changing Seasons

This past summer, my garden was mostly flowers, as I only had about 5-6 vegetables remaining in my food repertoire. I still made room for those veggies in the raised bed; surrounding them with marigolds, poppies, and sweet peas. Then, promptly after sowing     the seeds, I had a flare that took most of those remaining vegetables off my list.

As I watched sprouts break through the soil a few weeks later, I resigned myself to the fact that it would all go to friends, or the office, or the food bank, come harvest time.

I started my DNRS brain retraining in mid-June; flowers were coming into full bloom, the lettuce was starting to look like lettuce, the parsley was just starting to get tall. During the summer, I did many of my 'rounds' (the set of retraining practices I do each day) in my back yard, often facing the garden; my bare feet in the cool grass, grounding me and connecting me to nature as I calmed my limbic system.

I was growing vegetables and neurons at the same time.

Iceberg lettuce was one of the vegetables I was still eating; I grew it for the first time this year, and I loved being able to grab leaves at will to add to my meals (also, non-mass-produced iceberg lettuce has so much more flavour!).

The Brussels sprouts never sprouted, so their leafy stalks got yanked.

The rutabaga found homes among my coworkers.

Rhubarb was shared with one friend.

Raspberries with another.

I found I loved having the energy to work the garden, even if I wasn't eating most of it. 

By late summer, the only vegetable remaining in the ground was the carrots. I just couldn't part with them. I pulled them on a warm afternoon in September, carefully scrubbing, slicing, blanching, bagging, and then tucking them into the freezer.

Since starting my DNRS program, I've actually nibbled on small, single bites of a few different foods here and there, though my limbic system was clear each time that it was still outside my training zone. I knew that many people in the program had been able to start reintroducing foods almost immediately, while many others didn't even start reintroductions until after the initial 6-month training period. I was starting to get the sense that my nervous system might be in the latter category.

Accepting this was almost as hard to digest as food.

But I still wanted to try.

A couple weeks ago, I pulled a slice of carrot from one of the bags in the freezer. Mixed it into my meal. And I don't know if it was the love and care that went into growing them, or the new neural pathways, or both, but my limbic system considered it from all angles, and said,

"Okay 🙂"

via GIPHY

On Epigenetics and the Drying of Herbs

I have been drying herbs in my kitchen since summer reached its half way mark. Dill, cilantro, mint, basil. Hanging in the windows, the sun has slowly crisped and browned their stems, their leaves. Tonight seemed like as good an evening as any to collect my now-dried spoils; rose hips and chamomile still wait to be tended to on the back porch.

There is something satisfying in the whole garden harvesting process. As I tended the herbs, specifically, there was something additionally comforting in the gathering process. Perhaps it is the rhythmic repetition of plucking each stem from the pile, one by one, the leaves all but disintegrating between my thumb and forefinger that run them down the length of the slender stalk. Fragrances fill my nostrils with positive memories of farm suppers, Dad's pasta, and--in the case of the mint--something like just having opened a new package of gum.

Epigenetics tells me that there are markers on my genes--little protein markers from my parents, my grandparents, and possibly other ancestors that leave a little trace of their experiences on my DNA, influencing the expression or non-expression of those genes as they intertwine with my own experiences.

I garden because I love the earth, and I want it to last; sustainability. Was there an ancestor so impacted by the rations and scarcity of wartime that it has driven my ever-growing preference to live simply, re-purpose, and take the time to harvest not just the fruit but also the seeds from what I've planted?

I garden because I enjoy less chemicals, and more natural products in my body; health. Was there a long-ago relative, lungs blackened by the Industrial Revolution, who witnessed the shortened life of her own working class family and friends?

I garden because I don't need research to tell me it's good for my mental health; well-being. With whom do I share introvert solidarity as I travel up through the family tree--those socially awkward comrades who nevertheless knew that the best thing for their hearts and minds was to spend free time with a book, a hammock, an art project, or with one's hands in the dirt?

Perhaps the comfort isn't so much in the rhythmic nature of the task, but in the connection to the long-ago. Despite technology, despite big-box convenience, the practice of gardening still exists--and, I would argue, is still necessary. Oh, that the DNA of future generations would not lose the markers that bring aromas into the kitchen, and calm the heart in the process.

SOTC 67/365

Big Beet, a photo by gina.blank on Flickr.
(Nope, not from my garden!)

The Experiment Continues

Earlier this summer, I mentioned that I was engaging myself in a gardening experiment, after learning about and being inspired by the concept of edible landscapes.

I can say with confidence that the snap peas loved growing up the chain link fence this summer. Despite their curling tendrils that self-wrap around the chain link wire, they still grew so tall and heavy that I had to support many of the plants with twist ties. And anytime I took some to share with friends, the comment (aside from "yum!") was, "they're so big!"

The snap peas were pretty much done this week, so I took the warm summer evening yesterday to pull the yellowing plants off the fence and out of the dirt. I filled half an ice cream pail with snap peas in the process--the last harvest.

And then I got a crazy idea.

Well, really, it's the next step in edible landscaping, but while it may seem unsurprising for a small community on Vancouver Island, BC, somewhere, it's a little bit more 'out there' in terms of Edmonton, Alberta.

But I decided to share my snap peas. With strangers.

Because while part of edible landscapes is about viewing my own space differently when it comes to growing, part of it is also about interacting differently with the people in my community, so they might view gardening differently, too.

"This is about sharing, and investing in kindness." -- Pam Warhurst

It was about 7pm when I put out my plate of snap peas. When I brought the plate back in before bed at about 10:30, there were only three peas left.

Whoa.

This may have been several evening dog-walkers or cyclists, or perhaps just a single group of teenagers enjoying one of their few remaining summer evenings before school starts again. Nevertheless, the peas were clearly enjoyed.

This whole thing gives me much anticipation and hope for next year, both in the growing and the sharing. I have already decided to try growing cucumbers again, now that I think I might be successful growing them vertically on the chain link fence. I tried several new plants this year, and have gotten to know how they grow, so I know if/how I want to plant them next year. And I want to look at re-landscaping my front yard to turn a good portion of the grass into garden, so I can continue to share a larger variety of plants with my community.

Maybe it's crazy, but a plate of snap peas can't be wrong, can they?

The Snap Pea Experiment

Last year, I was a little bit inspired by this video:


I mean, not so much in the area of becoming an activist for an Edible Edmonton (though I think that would be really cool, and I would totally participate at whatever level I could). But more in using even my own space differently to maximize the way I grow food.

I already have a raised bed garden. When I saw the video last year, most of it had already been harvested, and the season was nearly over. But it got me excited for what I could do this year.

I've added several flower pots to my back yard to house herbs and vegetables. I cleared the front garden beds of their flowers, dedicating the space under the cherry bushes entirely to strawberry plants. But the thing I was most excited about was the snap peas. I decided to plant my snap peas (and some sweet peas) along the chain link fence lining my driveway, instead of in the raised garden like I've done in the past. It was a bit of a risky venture, given that the dirt is not exactly top-quality potting soil. Sandy with a bit of clay, I added some nutrient-rich compost soil to the mix, sowed my seeds, and hoped for the best.

Everything in the garden has been coming up over the last week or so, and wouldn't you know, the snap peas are, too! ...Looks like my snap pea experiment is a success!

353/365

The pumpkin has officially taken over.

...Where is my corn? Is that one of my carrots over there?

For Pete's Sake OR 321/365

There is a rabbit. Well, more precisely, a hare. I don't see him very often, though he was quite ambitious earlier this week when he hopped within four feet of me as I weeded the front garden. I've named him Peter. I usually try to be more original when I name things around me*, but given this hare's behaviour, I think 'Peter' suits him just fine.

Last year, I noticed lots of nibble marks in the leaves of my vegetables--the peas just barely survived. But after hearing that hair can sometimes act as a natural deterrent, I promptly brushed the cat and sprinkled her fur all over the garden. Someone else stated that garlic was also effective. So I sprinkled garlic powder around a few times, too (if nothing else, it kept the vampires away). Sure enough, the peas stopped looking nibbled, and my garden did just fine. So, I figured I knew what to expect this year.

When I planted the garden, I sprinkled cat fur around it right off the bat. But as the plants started to come up, most of them quickly showed signs of struggling. However, I came to the conclusion that it was most likely bugs, given the holey--not nibbly--state of the leaves. After stocking up on diatomaceous earth for the bugs and blood/bone meal for the rabbit (just in case), I replanted half my garden. Everything has started to come up again that had suffered. Except that the spinach--just the spinach--disappeared again earlier this week. Where's the fairness?!

Since everything else is doing all right, I decided that the bugs had been beaten, but the rabbit had not.

I think I made my sixth trip to Rona today in just as many weeks.

Chicken wire; check.
Wooden posts; check.
New package of spinach seeds; check.

How come this garden's taking so much more effort this year???

*For example, my Macbook is NOT named Mac. That's too easy. She IS, however, named Ambrosia (she is an Apple, after all).

318/365

Rhubarb season has officially begun.

301/365

285/365

Oh, perfect Saturdays. I have spoken of you many a time on my blog. You are the perfect mix of introverted self time and activity with friends. You are usually sunny and warm, and you never start before 10am.* You are wonderful, and I love it when I am blessed with you.

Today was a perfect Saturday. And I don't think I've really had a perfect Saturday in the course of this photography project. There have been a few really great Saturdays (and even a couple of lazy Saturdays), but there's a subtle qualitative difference between a great Saturday and a perfect Saturday.

...to soil!

I thought my photo for today was going to be easy. The garden went in today: green beans, yellow beans, carrots, dill, lettuce, spinach, snap peas, pumpkin, and zucchini. I've already taken pictures of the seeds and the sprouts, and now they're going into the ground. How could that not be my blog photo for today?

But then, after the garden was done, CR and JM came over and we celebrated the warm sunshine with a bike ride through the River Valley. I didn't bring my camera, but CR did. And she took some lovely photos. My first bike ride of the season! How could that not be my blog photo for today?

And THEN, just when I think I've already got a tough decision to make, I find myself in my hammock. I've been in there a few times after work this week, but always for under ten minutes--just long enough to scrape up some of the last bit of sunshine that I missed while sitting in my office all day long. Today I spent over 45 minutes in the thing, reading a good book, and watching my cat try to navigate this new piece of furniture. My first real back yard hammock experience. How could that not be my blog photo for today?

So... I'm cheating (hey, it's my project, I can do that). Today, I have three photos. In their own way, they each represent life, blessing, relationship, warmth, happiness, goodness, peace, and love.

Yes, a perfect Saturday indeed.

* Okay, just once, but it was worth it.

281/365

Any day I'm eating lunch at work and not in my car is a good day. And any day I'm eating lunch outside at work and not in my car is an excellent day.

268/365

...to sprout...

197/365

You're just going to have to trust I'm eating my vegetables. :)

49/365

Tackled some more end-of-season garden tasks today. Pruning, mulching, and yanking out anything that was clearly done growing and producing. This was only about half the pile; the weeds had their own. I managed to get one more small bowl of Nanking cherries while tangled in the bushes as I pruned; that was a pleasant surprise. The only things left in the garden now are the carrots, zucchini, and dill. ...Didn't I just plant all this???

45/365

A late supper this evening.

28/365

I waited so long for the garden to come up. I planted the weekend before the May long, and with our late start to spring, it seemed like everything was slow to make an appearance. The potatoes and the rhubarb were fluffing out nicely early on, but in my most concerned moments as I glanced over my rectangle of dirt, I wondered if I'd have produce at all. How easily we doubt. How patient we are not.

It was after a stretch of rain in June that lasted five days, followed by some solid sunshine, that the garden exploded. Leafy and green replaced small and sparse, and--could it be--were those the start of actual vegetables? I got very excited.

The rest of the summer was a daily check to see what was ready, what was almost ready, and what needed to be tended to so it could get ready. The peas and rhubarb were ready first. Soon I was enjoying many a spinach salad with my own spinach. And shortly after that, zucchini and beans became part of my supper routine.

Now here we are at the end of August. The peas were done last week. The beans finished out this weekend, and the rhubarb is not far behind. The cucumber is appreciative of the extra space it has to sprawl, now that I've pulled the unproductive pea and bean plants from the ground. I am expecting several more zucchini before it's decided it's had enough. The tomatoes are exploding, and make an excellent part of my daily lunches. I have enjoyed some carrots and potatoes, but am pretty much leaving the root vegetables as late as possible.

I have definitely come to appreciate the varying life cycles of different vegetables. It would have been impossible to deal with all of them at the same time. Instead, each became ready for harvest at a different part of the season. It kept my garden responsibilities from becoming overwhelming, and it gave me a chance to enjoy each item in turn, rather than madly trying to cook and create meals with all the vegetables at once. I seem to have planted just enough for me and a bit to share. .......And I was worried my garden wouldn't even grow!

There is some awesome Creator working those vegetables. It has been a blast to work along side Him.

25/365

Potatoes: mine
Dill (on potatoes): mine
Chicken: not mine
Lettuce: not mine
Carrots: mine
Cucumber: mine
Celery: not mine
Tomatoes: mine

Satisfaction: mine!

Perfect Fridays

Today has been a pretty perfect Friday. I awoke to the sunshine mid-morning so refreshed after ten hours of sleep. Summer in Alberta this year has been a pattern of warm and sunny days, punctuated by rain storms most afternoons and/or evenings. Knowing this, I took advantage of the sunshine at hand, and spent a few hours in my garden this afternoon.

It is so exciting to see the garden actually producing vegetables! I don't know why this catches me by surprise. I have watched gardens grow since I was a small child. I know how photosynthesis works. Of course my garden's growing vegetables. Still--probably because it's my garden--and my first real garden--every time I go out there and see growth, my reaction has been, "hey, look at that!"

I have harvested snap peas a couple of times. They go really well with lunch.

The rhubarb continues to explode. I have consulted the Rhubarb Compendium, because I feel that endless pans of rhubarb crisp will start to get redundant for both myself and those to whom I serve it.

The zucchini caught me by surprise last week. A couple weeks ago, I had noticed several small zucchs sprouting from the plant, all about 5-7 inches long. I took mental note that a couple weeks from that point (about now), there would be some sizable enough to harvest. But it was last week as I went out to the garden to check on something else, that I happened to glance at the zucchinis and cry, "holy crap!" Most were still only several inches long. One, however, had found himself some steroids or something, because he was ginormous. I should have measured him. Roughly 15-16" long, and at his widest, about 5-6" in diameter. Now, I've seen large zucchinis come out of gardens. Larger than that, actually. Still, I was taken aback by how fast he grew to the size he did. I was not expecting him, and promptly pulled him from the garden before he became unmanageable!

But now I digress, because I'm supposed to be talking about this perfect Friday. Today I pulled a zucchini, too. He's about a foot long. Sizable enough for cookies or cake here in the next couple days. But it was the yellow beans I went out for. Their first harvest. I also pulled one carrot. Overall, the carrots have not come up very well--I think a lot of the seeds got blown before they got a chance to settle. I had pulled a large-looking one last week to see how they were progressing, and decided to pull another one today. The rest are no where close to even baby carrot-sized.

With baby-sized vegetables on the brain, I pulled up one hill of potatoes. While most were already past the true baby potato stage (thin, smooth skin, golf ball size), it was nice to see how well they were coming along. One mutant came out of the hill. Arms and a belly button (and a nubby tail, though you can't see it in the picture)! I think he's looking for a hug!

After I had pulled everything that needed pulling, I gave the garden a good weeding, and thinned out stems and leaves that were shriveled or otherwise not growing well. Looking forward to what comes out of the dirt in the next few weeks!

The clouds were starting to roll in fast by this point. I had two small plant shoots from a friend that needed potting. I got them into pots and transferred a philodendron into a new pot for work before quickly wrapping things up and bringing all necessary plant life inside.

While it rained, I tackled several necessary chores and tasks inside the house which aren't all that exciting. But such a sense of satisfaction at the level of productivity! It's amazing what one can do when well-rested and not out of the house for 8-12 hours of the day.

This evening, I officially became the owner of a new-to-me 27" TV (my other TV is only 21"). Ultimately, I would like to own a flat-screen television. Right now, though, for the amount of TV I actually watch, I have other financial priorities. So when I was scouting around Freecycle, and stumbled upon someone giving away their TV, I thought, "seriously?" and inquired. Turns out this 6-or-so-year-old TV is in perfect working condition; she just had no buyers on Kijiji and needed to get rid of it before she moved. Sweet deal for me! To add to the perfection, I successfully reprogrammed my Telus TV remote from the old TV to the new one without having to actually call Telus. I'm pretty tech-savvy, but Telus can be complex sometimes. So that felt good.

So after a day of that caliber, what is there left to do but make supper with my harvest and watch some TV? I ended up enjoying a rerun of The Cosby Show over a plate of chicken with rhubarb sauce, beans and carrots, and mashed potatoes. It was great. So was the ice cream sundae afterwards. :)

The sun is now pretty much gone for the evening. The Spa Channel (Galaxie Radio) plays in the background on my TV. Soon, I will shut the computer down for the night, and finish off today with a good book before bed.

"Thank you, Father, for the beautiful surprises you are planning for me today." -- Robert Schuller