Thursday, October 21, 2004

The Vicarious Gardener

Originally uploaded by Adagio.

I do not expect that anyone else will (or can) appreciate the significance of the few wooden stakes, encircled by a length of baling twine, that form a 4 x 1.7m rectangle on my front lawn. It is the very first stage of a raised, no-dig vegetable garden; my first vegetable garden in a great many years.

To say I am excited by the prospect of growing (and eating) organic vegetables again is an understatement. In days gone by I always grew a vegetable garden. Over time it became physically more and more difficult, until the practice ceased. Everything comes from the vegetable shop these days. Complete with a frightening array of pesticides absorbed by roots and leaves.

Very recently it was brought to my attention (thankyou Marianne) that I could still have a vegetable garden. All that was necessary was somebody to maintain it for me. Under my instruction. So, what's new? Considering that I have already had to accept undertaking numerous (too many) other activities vicariously, it is a little embarrassing that I cannot claim this wonderful idea as my own.

I impatiently envisage shiny purple aubergines, fresh beans, masses of rocket (arugula), baby Agria potatoes, leafy red and green lettuce, beetroot, moderately fiery chillies, an assortment of Chinese greens and . . . . .Grace is dreaming about gigantic plants laden with a never ending supply of red capsicums. The possibilities are endless.

Footnote: The construction of this post was assisted by Tui beer and Van Morrison.


Blogger Mary Desmond said...

So you is an Anchorite. Hm.
When i was a yute i tended my mother's rubber plant, I saw her dressing it with milk and water, cotton wool rub-down, i can do that i says, to please her. So i does and over the months, rather dopely as a yute would, they call it meditation these days. it begins to gleam. then out of spite to my mother i stopped, and it grew grotty and was discarded. so i asked for a rubber plant this birthday. at that time the only book i read through completely en francais, Candide ou l'Optimisme, last words were il faut cultiver notre jardin.
I was wondering if you were to throw some grass seeds could you give me a heads-up on the winds, in return i can tell you the secret of red, green, yellow and those elusive purple peppers, if you don't already know.
You'll eat less PCBs, they were used so extensively in the last century they are in the soil, the air, the water, continually recycled by the ecosystem, so you'll eat less i guess, but they are here to stay for a while longer. so they tell me.

4:20 AM  

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