Let me just start out by saying living in an apartment and gardening is not an easy task. I love gardening almost as much as I love knitting. I love the feel of dirt between my finger nails and the smell of just good soil. The feeling of watching the plants I nurtured grow. The whole process is wonderful.
Gardening and Apartments are almost two complete opposites. I went back to Wisconsin for a long weekend just a few weeks back and I got a taste at what gardening could be like again. My folks are great people and they have many gardens. I used to love to spend hours out there weeding and trimming and making the gardens look great. They never looked as great as I wanted them too just because the restrictions of them not being my gardens but I took pride in my work. Now the gardens are over run and unruly because my parents neither have the patience, time or passion to do it. I sat down that Sunday morning, gloves on, beat up jeans and an old shirt, hair pulled back and my tools handy. My father literally said "Do what ever you want to get the gardens looking great." I smiled and replied "You really know what that means?" He answered "Yes. Just don't cut down this one tree right here." It was the beginning of cleaning up. I de-headed and pruned and weeded and pulled stuff out. I trimmed trees and worked on getting the garden back to what it should be. I worked for hours, on one flower bed before I was called inside to get ready for a party. I should mention it was my own wedding shower, but my thoughts weren't on it but the plants I was tending to. All the gardeners in my family immediately noticed and came up to me saying how nice the garden bed was looking and what a great job I did on it.
That being said I came back to Washington on that long plane ride half way across the country to my little tiny plot of garden space and my wilting flower pots and felt out of touch. I saw the wilting of my plants and my soul nearly died with them. I had neglected my own little plot because it was grand like my parent's gardens. They have a half an acre with a good 50% of it designated to garden beds. I saw the barely started rock path and the flowers that were for early spring and nothing for the heat of summer. I looked at the black raspberries that were over taking the side of my apartment again and felt discouraged. I felt overwhelmed and underwhelmed in the same moment. It wasn't until I really let that sadness seep into me that I made a change. One day on my lunch hour, after feeding Ronnie (our dog for anyone who doesn't know) and slipped off my shoes and touched each and every plant. I filled up the watering can and gave life back to the burnt plants. I moved the barely started rock path to the other side of the concrete sidewalk to create a nice rain border along the hill. Just with that one little change I was able to make two things look better in one swoop. I opened up the plot of land for more flowers and made the border to my front door look even better but I also re-sparked the passion in me for gardening. I am planning on buying more plants for late summer/fall and planting them this weekend.
I promise to take pictures of the progress and to swear lots at the plot of land that is literally concrete of the dirt world. But I also promise to enjoy every minute of it because gardening is what made me want to start homesteading in the first place and it would be a shame to lose that dream because I lost a part of myself.
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