Category — Daily Toil

A friend of mine, a good friend in fact, said “Twenty-Minute Jim, you’re a big fat liar! There’s NO WAY you plant that garden of yours in only 20 minutes a day.” I wasn’t offended. I didn’t even puff out my cheeks or stamp my feet in protest. I knew for a fact that this year, we’d spent quite a bit more than 20 minutes a day so far in the garden. But I don’t think our experience so far this year essentially disproves our hypothesis (i.e. that a lovely organic, urban kitchen garden can be created by two folks working 20 minutes a day.) Here’s why: [Read more →]

We planted the peas today which worked out to a nice 20 minute task. About a week ago, we’d scraped away the mulch from the soil where we intended to plant. The sun was able to warm the soil up to a pea-friendly 50 degrees F (10 degrees C) We were able to check the soil temperature with this fancy soil thermometer we got years ago with our CompostTumbler. [Read more →]

Today, I finished setting up a tub planter at the corner of the barn. It used to be the temporary home to the rhubarb but since they’ve been transplanted to a more permanent home, we wanted to use the tub for “something else.” This change allowed me a chance to review some tub planting basics. [Read more →]

It’s too early to plant, I know that, but we did anyway. The days have been gloriously beautiful. I was able to convince myself that the phrase “average last frost date” must mean that, at least sometimes, the last frost is MUCH earlier. Plus we know a trick or two to keep Jack Frost away. [Read more →]

Today’s weather was a light drizzle, bright but overcast. I spent my “garden 20″ walking around the drowsy beds in my Sunday-go-to-meeting suit, risking mud on my dress shoes. I just returned from a funeral for a friend of mine who took his own life last weekend. The tight curls of rhubarb are cresting through the surface. Snowdrops are flowering everywhere and nearby the first tentative spears of other bulbs are piercing the surface. I wish I could say that sense of new life provides some definitive answer to the strange ache I am carrying. I know my friend was in chronic pain and had been for several years. I don’t think there was any hope of a medical relief possible. He must have “done the math” and seen it was time to go. I can’t help but think he made a mistake in his calculations, though. That can’t be the right answer.

Why do we send flowers to funerals? Is there something about the transient glory of a bloom that reminds us to treasure life as a passing wonder and not to fixate too deeply on its departure? I never much cared for funeral arrangements–I thought they were waste of money, frankly, though my sister in law’s a florist. Don’t tell her I said that!– But standing in the garden today, thinking about my friend, I’m not so certain anymore. Maybe flowers ARE the most apt gift at that moment.

Plenty of tasks out here for me await my toil. The wind has pushed the leaf mulch off the beds. Rain falling from the barn roof has eroded away a small trench. Jan bought trilium bulbs that need to be buried. But honestly, I’m glad it’s too cold and wet to work. I needed to spend my minutes today just looking, just observing.