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I think it is for lack of effort, really. We are lazy. Plain and simple. You mean, I have to water those things every day? Even if I'm tired and it's hot out? You mean I have to get on my hands and knees and take the weeds out? Huh?
A few years ago, I lost someone very special to me--a gruff grandpa, hardened by years of tedious work in a steel mill. He got a new lease on life in the form of a new heart, and he transformed into a loving bear of a man, who I looked up to and admired.
I also admired that every spring, he set out to create one of the most productive backyard gardens that I had ever seen.
From that small patch of dirt in his hilly Pennsylvania borough, he grew yellow corn, bright red tomatoes, hot peppers, zucchini, and probably others that I don't remember. What I do remember is sitting on the back porch on a sticky August day and cutting into the flesh of a just-picked kohlrabi, sprinkling salt on the slices before sliding them into my mouth.
I remember the dirt in the creases of his fingers and nails as he brought in handfuls of ripe tomatoes and green beans, leaving them on the counter for my grandmother to prepare. Oh, and the jars upon jars of tomato sauce, tomato soup, jarred peppers and other delicacies that he dealt out to his family every winter.
The tomato soup was like gold in our family. If you were the lucky recipient of a jar, you only opened it for special occasions. We traded soup "vintages" like others trade wine. It was such a huge part of his definition that his eulogy focused on the beauty of the soup and how it bridged generations, bringing the family together over something delicious.
It has always been my dream to have my own garden. To carry on the tradition of canning vegetables for leaner times. To introduce my son to tomato soup fresh from the ground. To really make a connection to the lessons of hard work and responsibility that he taught me.
So this year, I set aside some money and I am carrying out my dream. Or at least a mini version.
I have some containers. I bought soil and seeds. I started my vegetables in pots just like he did. I transplanted into a raised bed and my vegetables into pots. I have carrots, beets, greens (chard + collard), tomatoes, beans, peas, herbs and melon. I have raspberry and blueberry bushes. I have cauliflower and artichokes.
Today, as I was spreading out humus and manure onto my seedlings, I noticed that one seedling near death a few days ago had spread its roots and reached for the sunshine. We always joked that plants growing in odd places was his way of telling us something from heaven.
I miss you Pap. I hope you send me something really tasty.
