A Writer Afoot » garden

The Turn of the Wheel–writing season begins

Barbara Samuel — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 13:50:49 +0000

Here it is, arriving suddenly. On Thursday, it was still Indian summer, sunny and hot. Today is Saturday and that season has fled. This is a wet snow, and won’t stick. Next week, it will be warm again—but instead of collecting a few more roses, another couple of squashes, I will put the garden to bed for the winter. Cut down the frozen stalks of corn, compost the wilted squash, the frost killed tomatillo, so prolific that I am secretly glad I won’t have to figure out how to use 10,000 more of them.

When I first looked out this morning, on the wilted, frozen plants that have been my companions all summer, I felt melancholy. The summer is gone for certain now. Another swift move of the calendar, this very particular summer, this sweet year of my new garden–gone.

And yet…I knew the freeze was on the way, so I found this little greenhouse at the local big box gardening spot. (I had planned to buy PVC pipe and build one—this is ever so much better, and only a tiny bit more expensive.) It’s lightweight, and easy enough to assemble that I did everything but the cover by myself in about 2 hours. It would have been less, but I mixed up two parts and had to redo them. It’s not all battened down just yet—I had hoped to do that today, but it will wait until Monday or Tuesday now, when the weather will be warmer again.

Stepping into that protected world last night, where the tomatoes are growing, and some more potatoes, I felt a sense of deep quiet. Here, I can extend the season, both now and in the spring. Here, I can have a secret stash of fresh, home-grown tomatoes and herbs. It’s too late this year to do it, but in the future, I can plan what the greenhouse bed will hold and provide myself with more herbs and fresh edibles, and create a place of puttering solace for the winter, at least part of it.

Gazing out at the snug little greenhouse, I felt sweet anticipation creeping beneath the melancholy, edging it out of the way. After a break of more than two months, the girls in the basement woke up and peered over my shoulders, yawning and scrubbing their eyes. “Hooray!” they cried. “It’s the writing season! Make some cinnamon tea while we get dressed. We have lots of stories to tell you.”

Another season begins—fresh and unmarked. So it is.

Progress and a flat of basil

Barbara Samuel — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 21:18:12 +0000

Have been scarce finishing the new book, attending to the wedding of my younger son, and generally running from one urgent thing to the next. But I thought you’d like to know that the garden beds are going in this week! So excited. A couple of photos.

The winds finally took out the twenty-five year old fences in our neighborhood so we had to have those replaced. (The houses look much closer than they actually are, but you can see why we want to plant for more privacy.) This photo was taken this morning, by the way. A surprise snow storm struck overnight.

This is this afternoon, from the upstairs window, looking down on the mapped-out garden beds. You can see how desperately the sandy soil needs amending. Just out of the photo on the left is one of the best things about the yard, which is a tall, healthy, beautiful Ponderosa pine that will get its own box, so we can keep the desiccating needles out of the rest of the garden. That’s a whiskey barrel toward the back, about four feet from the fence, for size estimations:

This is a tomato plant, robust and nearing readiness for transplanting:

And here is a pretty flat of basil. I will have to give some away.

As I type this, there is snow coming down again, but spring can’t hide from us much longer.

An organic farm…in my backyard!

Barbara Samuel — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 19:54:42 +0000

Just before Christmas, CR surprised me by bringing in a landscape architect to make our yard over into a beautiful urban farm. Perhaps he wants more fresh potatoes like the ones I grew in a black bag last summer. Or maybe he is tired of me complaining about the price of organic produce. Whatever it is, I am thrilled.

The trick is to use vegetables and fruit trees, along with ornamentals, to create a pleasing setting for a backyard barbecue, but also use the land and water productively. (You may have heard me rant before about watering grass in Colorado, which is an exercise in waste.) The first draft is here, and I am SO excited. I thought you might want to follow along with me on this journey. This is the draft.

There are many challenges to growing a hearty garden in Colorado. For one thing, the season is short–Zone 4 where we are, thought some parts of the city are Zone 5. For another, we sit at just over 7000 feet, which means a lot less oxygen and much harsher sunlight. To maximize my success, I’m starting plants indoors, in waves. Last week, I attended a class on starting seeds with grow lights, and have stocked up on materials. I can begin March 1. (Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes!!)

What a Christmas present, huh?

Do you have a garden? What are the challenges where you are, and what crops to you most like to grow?

Today's harvest

Barbara Samuel — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 03:29:02 +0000

There’s just something so elemental about going outside and picking a handful of strawberries and tomatoes. I also harvested a couple of raspberries.

It’s not quite the garden I hoped for this summer, but it’s a start.

Practicing beauty

Barbara Samuel — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 20:11:27 +0000

It seemed like I spent way too much time at this Internet computer last week. Don’t get me wrong: the Internet is a valuable, interesting place and for an isolated writer, the most glorious communication tool ever invented. However, I can find myself wasting time, and not productively wasting time, either (like Facebook quizes, which are fun and relaxing, like America’s Next Top Model. Frivolous, yes. Wasting time, no), but spinning my wheels.

So I took an Internet fast from Satruday night to lunchtime today, and it was amazing what I did instead. I read. I cooked. Then I still had some time left over, so I called my brother on the phone, and talked to my sister, actually talked to her, and then there was still some time so I straighted up my office, did some more work on my taxes, and dusted. Really.

And then, I still had time so I played with a notebook I keep of beautiful garden things that catch my eye. It’s absolutely kindergarden level cut and paste: a moleskin notebook with magazine photos stuck to the

pages with a glue stick. Cheap. Easy.

Incredibly satisfying. Cutting out pictures of dahlias, gluing them in place, leafing through other photos like, thinking about what to try this summer. I miss succulents and might work with them a little more this year. I might plant 500 dahlias. Who knows?

Magazine photos are often so beautiful I hate to throw them away. I once had a character who cut out all the pictures she liked and stuck them in a notebook, for relaxation, and that seems frivolous but wonderful, too.

How about you? Any peaceful habits of beauty you practice?