Not a gardener.

On the first page of the West Coast Seeds 2007 Gardening Guide: Seeds, Supplies and Wholefoods seed catalogue, then (and maybe still) President of West Coast Seeds Ltd., Mary Ballon, makes the following address:

"Today I want to share something that really helped me prepare for the future. It has to do with the difference a word can make. Will I be a 'gardener' or a 'farmer' on my city lot? The implications are profound. Am I to tend the property, to keep it nice looking and raise a few vegetables or am I going to raise food and ensure the long-term fertility of that soil and the security of my family? All over the world small scale agricultural producers are called farmers I think we need to become a nation of people who see themselves as farmers, as creators rather than consumers. I will be a farmer and I urge you to ponder that perspective for your own efforts. A neighbourhood of farmers, sharing their harvest and their seeds and their recipes will strengthen our communities."

Ever since I first read this, it made sense to me - and I think that Ms. Ballon skillfully articulates the sense of purpose that I feel. Though to be honest, I don't know if I'm ready to start calling myself a "farmer". But what the heck, maybe I'll just try it for a while and see if it catches on.

Farm on!

The delicious strawberry.

I love strawberrys! When I was a kid my parents had rows of strawberry plants in their garden and when in season, my sisters and I would comb through the plants looking for ones that were just ripe enough to eat - blowing the dust off and eating them up, a little green or not. I wish I could describe what they tasted like. It's not that they were that juicy, or that sweet, but they had such a unique flavour that you knew you were using your "stawberry" tastebuds.

Strawberries are a great point of saddness for me. I see them in the store and they look FANTASTIC!  So beautifully plump and perfect. And huge! They could be apples. But man, do they taste awful! Awful. I think of a cross between styrofoam and something tasteless.  These store bought beauties from Mexico, California and even yokel Abbotsford lack that somethin' somethin'.

So I'm gonna grow my own. I've bought a package of "June bearing" plants from my local nursery and have planted them in strategic locations around my vast property. For $6.99 I've aquired 10 little seedlings. They came in a cardboard tube that when opened revealed a bunch of anemic plants crammed on top of eachother. I know that I have maybe 5 books that contain info about the needs of strawberry plants, but really, who has time to read? As a result, I am going by the write-up attached which states: "full to partial sun, well-drained soil".

Don't plant them too deep or they'll rot, don't plant them too shallow or they'll dry out. Who would have thought that Nature would have been so particular?

I've planted 6 in the front of the house which gets full southern exposure, but has soil that you could make a bowl out of. I've planted 4 in the back in one of my "raised beds" which also gets the benefit of good sun in addition to first rate compost. However, I kind of feel like I want to reserve this coveted "raised bed" space for other items such as . . . such as . . . something not so sprawly.

I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

But according to the package, I'm supposed to have berries in June . . . so Mom, I'm going to have to borrow your canning equipment once again for my bumper crop and subsequent Jamfest. That's right, Jamfest.

I missed my mom.



Whaaaaah!!

It's been two weeks since my last blog post and it's weird that it coincides with my mom's spring break absence. She came back last night and during our short phone conversation she was able to adequately guilt me into starting up my writing again.

Actually, I didn't feel that bad about it. It would take a lot of guilt to actually motivate me to do something and between you and me, I can handle A LOT of guilt. So I guess it's just nice to have my biggest fan back in town. Alas and alak - my public needs me!

As you may have noticed the picture at the top of this post, I must inform you that the cutie-pie little shamrock that was the rockstar of my very first post had a near death experience not three days after it came into my home. I have to admit, my self esteem was a little rocked. With this in mind, I would like to bestow a little nugget of wisdom that I have gained during this experience:

Plants need water.

So when you have a little plant, in a little container, it just will not do to leave for three days without taking your little green friend with you. However, I am happy to report that Sham is making a come-back and has been transplanted into a bigger pot and stuck in the back yard. I will let nature take care of the rest.

With this mini-disaster christening my season, my motivation and enthusiasm seemed to wane. In addition, I have a few other excuses that have suited the purpose of justifying my procrastination quite nicely:

1. My yard looks like a wasteland.

2. My living room looks like a wasteland.

3. This weather SUCKS!

But excuses aside, mother earth waits for no one. I'm not going to let a little mud and mess unnerve me and squash my dreams! So tomorrow, strawberries!

It's good to have you home Mom!