All the things that we have lost

Growth



This is a surreal journal of my garden, which I started back in '97. I had planned to eventually recycle the space for something else, but since I planted again in 2000, I decided to give it a new lease on life. The writing style is deliberately choppy and at times, similar to haiku. I did this because for me, my garden is sort of zen -- it yields very little and is more about the experience than any net vegetable gain, plus the growing process is a bit of a religion experience for me. I'm a confirmed athiest and know next to nothing about zen either, so you can take that with a grain of salt.

2004
Since buying a house in 2002, I have been casually sinking my fingers into the soil again, so there may be some more updates here eventually...

2001
Last September, Anthony and I moved to a new place. It's very beautiful, but it's not veggie-garden friendly. Instead, I've set about to have nice flowers and a small herb-garden.

In the fall, I planted about 50 bulbs, mostly a combination of pale daffodils and purple and white tulips. I also threw in a couple of crocuses and 4 bearded irises.

First came the crocuses. Very beautiful flowers, but they didn't last long.

The dafs came up next, and had more yellow than I'd hoped, but were very pretty. Nxt year, I want to plant the pink and white dafs, if I can find them.

Next came the tulips; the white and light purple (almost magenta) came up first, then the Queen of Night came up, and finally fulfilled my expectations, with nearly black blooms. Too bad tulips don't last long, either.

Finally, up came the bearded irises. They were all in blues, and beautiful. But one didn't bloom, one was stunted, and the other 2 did okay.

May brought the roses, in full force. Yellow, pink, and white! Wow! the pink and yellow smelled SO wonderful, I got dizzy smelling them one day!

Sometime in April, I also started my herb garden. I have apple mint, garlic and regular chives, carpet rosemary, golden and tri-color sage, and lemon thyme in my tny corner garden, and a wormwood plant in a pot. So far, it all looks healthy.

The rest of the photos are in the shadow gallery.

2000
In early May, I finally bought my plants. Utah weather is so volatile that we managed to have snow and freezing rain in May, so my poor seedlings nearly met their doom before they were even in the ground. I decided to plant because last year the owners of the next lot over decided to rip out the brick wall which blocked half the sunlight my garden got. You can see the wall in the photo from August '97. Now, I am hopeful that the added hours of sunlight will help my plants reach their full potential.

I don't know what all happened with that. Last summer sucked. I did have a few tomatoes and some yellow crook-necked squash that survived.

May 2000
(entry 1)


In addition to the tarragon-that-will-not-die, some oregano, and lemon thyme, all left over from the '97 garden, I've added: 1 cherry tomato, 6 cauliflowers, 4 bell peppers, 4 eggplants, 6 yellow squash, 6 cantelopes, 1 strawberry, 1 sage, 1 dill, 1 catnip, and 1 garlic chive. This is far too much for my tiny garden. I left them in the pots too long and it looks like some of them may not survive. Particularly, I fear for the eggplants, dill, and the strawberry.

May 2000
(entry 2)


It looks like one eggplant and 2 bell peppers are going to die, but everything else is perking up. Well, and things are looking iffy for the dill. I got 150 feet of hose and ran it alongside the house to reach my plot. My neighbors think I'm whacked. Have I mentioned that I rent, and my 10'x10' garden plot is built over a midden (trash heap) at the back of the parking area? When I dug out the weeds before planting, I also dug out about 10 pounds of broken glass, chunks of carpet, wires, and plastic. It's really scary to be digging in the garden and come up with a handful of broken glass, and whomever dumped their crap on that spot years ago should be kicked. I would probably have to dig down 4 feet to get rid of everything in there, so I just spread 4 bags of topsoil and a bag of compost on top, and will take my chances.

May 2000
(entry 3)


My hose sprinkles tiny droplets of water on the young plants, and they seem to dance. Plants dance like children, jumping and joyfully wiggling with an internal grace but no choreography. Plants, however, are quieter and don't clap and yell while they dance. For this reason, I like plants better. Also, you don't have to get a plant-sitter for while you're at work. There are many, many reasons why I prefer plants to children.

May 2000
(entry 4)


The dill has perked right up. The tomato is a goner. One bell pepper and one eggplant are also going. Everybody else seems to be doing okay.

May 2000
(entry 5)


I left town for the weekend, but promises of rain from the weatherman and of waterings from my neighbor left me assured that my plants would survive. I returned from Seattle to find the dill and catnip abducted -- there's no trace of either of them. The two sad bell peppers are still clinging to life. A huge weed has taken up residence where the tomato used to be (how do weeds grow so fast?), and another bell pepper is looking sad. The cantaloups do not appear to have grown a bit. The cauliflour looks okay, however. Today I will buy a new tomato.





1997
The garden in August 1997 showing pumpkin vines and black-eyed susans


In late March, Ricky and I, with some help from our neighbors, planted a small victory garden behind our apartment. We planted tomatoes, onions, broccoli, zucchini, yellow squash, basil, mint, tri-color sage, lemon thyme, oregano, fennel, tarragon, coriander (cilantro), wormwood, pineapple sage, pennyroyal, and curry.


May 1997
(entry 1)


As of 5/1, everything was doing great.

May 1997
(entry 2)


The zucchini went almost immediately. Eaten by earwigs! Eww!

Also, the wormwood and pineapple sage are with the worms now.
They didn't last long.

On a good note, however, everything is growing well.
There are 2 volunteer pumpkin vines growing from the seeds
of my jack o'lantern in the compost heap.

June 10 1997
(entry 3)


It's my birthday. Lucky me... we had a huge hailstorm which beat the garden very badly. It looks very much like someone took a weed-whacker to the
tomatoes and broccoli.

Ricky is despondant.

July 1997
(entry 4)


Almost everything has revived from the storm. The basil isn't doing much, though. The tomatoes are once again covered with flowers.

The broccoli didn't produce much, either. It went to flower without us even noticing. "&$^%@#%&^*#," says Ricky.

He's not been very happy since the hail storm.

August 1997
(entry 5)


The basil never really grew, but some bug really enjoyed the leaves. So, no pesto for me.

The tomatoes have exploded with fruit.

The onions don't want to stay in the ground, and aren't growing much.

However, Ricky is once more interested in the growth process.

The pumpkins have forced us to park the cars in different places. I've never seen anything grow like that, except maybe in some bad SF movie.

August 1997
(entry 6)


For some reason, only one pumpkin appears to be growing. It's going to be The Pumpkin That Ate Salt Lake City, though.

Harvested the last of the cilantro, which has gone to seed so now I guess it's technicaly coriander.

September 1997
(entry 7)


The tomatoes continue to produce. Like mad.

The herbs are crazy with growth. Unfortunately, since I never cook, I haven't used them.

I spy more pumpkins, but there's no way they'll get as big as the Orange Ogre out there.

September 1997
(entry 8)


The pumpkin is giagantic. There are 3 more I think will make it. I've brought the emmense gourd inside, but I don't think I can carry it upstairs.

Tomatoes continue to produce. Everything else is dormant.

October 1997
(entry 9)


My landlord decided to chop down the pumpkin vines, but at least 2 of the pumpkins are okay. They weren't getting orange - I guess it's too chilly for them.

We had a freeze, but there are still tomatoes.

I planted my tulip bulbs - a row of about 20 across the front yard and 5 in a pot. They are in blues and whites, plus a couple of purple ones. I couldn't get the black ones.

October 1997
(entry 10)


I can't cut my pumpkin.
It mocks me from the corner, entirely too beautiful to be carved.

The other one that I brought inside is turning orange.


November 1997
(entry 11)


Winter is here. We had a freeze, and even the tomatoes are over.

Now we wait for the tulips. This is probably the last entry until Spring.

Stay warm.


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