November 25, 2002 link
Well…there won’t be much to say about the garden during the holiday season. I recently requested some seed catalogs, and I’ll be placing my order in January. I’m looking forward to the spring, but I know it will be a buttload of work.
Can I succeed, or will the forces of nature prevail? We’ll find out in a few months!
October 14, 2002 link
Yes! All the pieces fell into place on Saturday. I am in business.
It was warm and sunny. After sleeping-in a little bit (it was Saturday, after all), I put on my grubby jeans and wandered into the backyard, ready for a long day of grueling work. Last time I checked, the weeds were six-feet tall—and I wondered if I should have brought a machete…
Huzzah! It was a miracle! The weeds were gone! Vanished without a trace.
It looked like a horde of crazed sheep—or locusts—had swept through the yard, devouring the weeds to the ground. All that remained was stubble. I guess my landlord must have attacked the mess with his lawnmower, but I’m not ruling out a quick blast of fire from The Big Guy, either. Where yesterday it was a jungle, today it is a barren wasteland. Simply amazing.
After overcoming my bewilderment, I decided to trim the hedges and chop down a thicket of Ailanthus trees that still stood in the back corner. I had to leave some of the larger trees standing, but the smaller ones succumbed to my hacksaw. I hate Ailanthus. When I get a chance, the big ones will die too.
By this point, I was sweating. The temperature had climbed to the low seventies. I pruned some dead wood from the lilacs, then focused on the main event—the soil.
I mentioned earlier my concerns about the soil. After a few deep shovel thrusts, my concerns evaporated. There is nothing but deep, black Illinois soil back there.
I spent the rest of the afternoon turning over a patch of soil in the sunniest area of the yard. This is probably where the vegetables will go. As I shovelled, I realized the enormous amount of space that I have to work with. I also realized how much work will be involved if I try to convert the entire plot to garden space.
In the end, I’ll probably use about one-third of it for vegetables, and the rest will get filled-in with something low-maintenance. Maybe some type of prairie grass. I don’t think lawn grass would do very well back there—and I don’t want to waste the effort trying.
Eventually the storm clouds gathered, so I called it a day. I was sweating like a racehorse. I needed a shower. Thanks to the unexpected help from my landlord/God/locusts, the progress was much more than I hoped for.
October 8, 2002 link
I love the Fall. After Summer’s dog-days, the pace picks up again as everybody scurries around, celebrating the outdoors before the holidays and the Winter blues takeover. For me, Fall means college football on Saturday, the Chicago Bears on Sunday, barbeques with friends and long walks through Chicago’s neighborhoods.
It also means that the garden just sits there—waiting for my attention. All Summer, I waited for cool weather so I could start clearing out the brush and chopping down the Ailanthus trees. But I just haven’t had the time, so far.
I think I’ll finally get my chance this weekend. The schedule looks free. I hope it doesn’t rain.
August 20, 2002 link
There are lots of sucky garden websites (and books, and magazines) out there. Some of them seem directed at target audiences of grandmothers (I call this the “Precious Moments” School of Gardening) or hippies (see my rant below). Most are just plain dull.
What about the 20-something guy/gal looking for something that won’t embarass their urbane good taste? To that end, I started compiling a list of garden resources that don’t suck.
Please help me build the list. Talk to me.
August 19, 2002 link
Finally, some cooler weather. And some rain. I’ve been holding off on working in the yard until it gets cool enough to wear jeans and a sweatshirt. Too many mosquitoes, tall scratchy weeds and ticks to be out there in a t-shirt.
When she visited in July, my mother thought she noticed poison ivy growing back there. She pointed to a three-leaved plant, and I rushed over. It was not poison ivy, but that doesn’t mean I won’t find any later.
I’m getting anxious. I just want to get out there and start exploring…without being eaten alive by mosquitoes or evil plants.
August 12, 2002 link
Respect: Today, I found PathToFreedom.com, an amazing site by some folks who have a big food garden in Pasadena. Their site is encouraging—somehow they find time to grow 2300 pounds of produce, while also maintaining a huge website about the project.
Their yard is only slightly larger than mine. They have lots of photos, a frequently updated journal, and tons of useful links. Also, comprehensive stats on their harvests, notes on specific plantings, etc. I’m very impressed by what they’ve done, and even more impressed that they put it all online.
Rant: The thing that bothers me about many “urban homesteaders” is their zealousness. Many of them offer food-growing as some sort of path to spiritual enlightenment. For example, PathToFreedom’s header graphic declares: “Journey to the Summit…One Step at a Time”, and they litter their site with cheesy quotes about simple living. These type of people also have a tendency to get way too precious for my tastes—they talk about eating a tomato as if it were a spiritual experience.
Other people link gardening to social revolution. They talk about changing the world, and seem to think that their little web site (or backyard garden) is going to alter the environmental consciousness of the entire world. For them, the garden is a political tool to spread their anti-corporate message.
Why does food-growing have an ideology attached to it? Does it need to be so complicated? Can’t we just grow stuff for fun?
To be honest, I agree with many of the political and social messages in the environmental literature. I understand the evils of corporate agribusiness and mass consumerism. I understand the importance of sustainablity and local food production. I concede the need for a fundamental shift in our lifestyles. Fine—I agree.
It just annoys me that everthing is so serious.
I should give credit to the hardcore homesteaders for demonstrating what is possible. The people who rely on solar power and make their own soap remind us of our not-so-distant past, and also offer an encouraging picture of the potential for ordinary people to live more responsibly.
But not everybody can (or should) join the “back to the land” movement. In their zeal for “self-reliance”, many of the homesteaders forget that humans have always relied on each other (in the form of tribes, small towns or neighborhoods) for survival; self-reliance is unnatural.
Well, this started as a recommendation of an excellent website, and turned into a rambling rant against the people who run it. I’m not any less enthralled by their site, and I’ll be reading it avidly. Obviously, something touched a nerve this morning; surely I’ll be exploring these ideas again in later posts.
Are you also annoyed by rampant idealism, or do you think I’m being a cynic? Talk to me!
August 7, 2002 link
Here is a drawing, showing the permanent features of the yard. It also shows how much space there is in the center for a food garden. Currently, most of the yard is covered in 4-foot high weeds.
I need to get a digital camera so I can take pictures.
Also, notice the little strip in front of the house (also covered in weeds). It’s no good for vegetables, but I might grow some low-maintenance flowers there. Maybe dwarf sunflowers…
August 6, 2002 link
Some concerns:
- interference from my landlord
- poor soil
Since I don’t own the property, there is always the potential that the landlord could decide to raise a fuss about my modification of the backyard. Probably not—considering that it’s an overgrown mess back there, and also since he gave me permission. On the other hand, all I asked was for some space to “grow a few tomatoes and stuff”. He might be surprised if I start tearing up the entire yard.
The larger concern is the soil condition and depth. At the very back of the property, there is a chunk of cement that looks like the remnants of a building foundation. What if my big backyard is actually the former site of another house? Is it possible that I will find a slab of concrete 3-inches below the soil surface?
Judging by the abundant weed growth, I think the soil must be okay. On the other hand, those weeds can squeeze out of cracks in the cement. It doesn’t appear that any buildings have stood there for a couple of decades—maybe the structure in the back was just a small garage or shed. Even so, I might discover gravelly sand, rather than black topsoil.
This concern would be alleviated if I would just go out there and start digging.
August 5, 2002 link
This weekend, I bought a big shovel and an outdoor thermometer. These were added to my existing tools: a rake, a trowel and a watering can.
August 2, 2002 link
Since I moved in July, I can’t start a full-fledged garden until next Spring. This Fall, I will try to clean up the yard. I have three main goals for the next couple of months:
- clear out the weeds
- start turning over the soil
- chop down some 10-foot Trees of Heaven
