Thursday, May 23, 2013

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Digging Into A New Garden

No garden fork in the shed. Really?


It soon became clear why. The soil is so sandy that it simply doesn't clump. A regular spade is all that's needed to dig into the root zone. Then lift out the stems, and dirt falls off the roots and rhizomes very easily. Of curse, that makes it easy for new roots and rhizomes to move back in from the edge of the yard, where there are all manner of plants that get called ground cover and are really tenacious spreaders.

Much respect for the tenacious spreaders. The stones of the path down the yard will need digging under, too, or roots under them will spread into the new garden right away, before germination.

The other thing about the soil being so easy to lift is that it won't be hard to mix in compost or manure an keep it aerated ... and it will be just as easy to compress again if stepped upon.

And the other thing about the soil being so sandy is that it will drain well. Good in downpours, not so good in drought conditions. More organics mixed in and mulch on top will be a must to keep a vegetable garden going through the heat of the summer.

So it looks like a fork will be a tool needed after all.

With nothing like a real frost forecast in the next two weeks, it's getting to be time to get ready for planting.

A strange thing it is, uprooting so many plants that have been good to this place, to do that.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

talking in the morning

I'm interested in that moment in the morning when I come downstairs for breakfast, and someone starts talking to me, and I'm not really ready for talking yet.

I'm not sure what happens to me in that moment.

I feel annoyed and I feel like my morning is invaded.

I want Quiet as I open my day.

I feel dismayed that the person who talks doesn't 'get' this. 

Depending on what is said, what energy it is said with, how long the talking takes, how awake I am, how hungry I am, how available I am, I feel more or less annoyed.  Sometimes I'm not annoyed at all.

When I am annoyed, my reaction is to give curt responses/physically turn away/physically leave the space.  Sometimes I'll 'suffer through' the talking, and this is not something I want to be doing, because if I suffer through, then I breed resentment towards the talking person for 'making me' suffer through, and then I have resentment instead of closeness.  I think I try to communicate non-verbally that I don't want talking right now, but this feels pretty ineffective sometimes, and it is not all that satisfying.  I think, also, it might be hurtful and make the other person feel unwanted without them knowing why.  I find it enormously difficult to communicate verbally about my annoyances.

I suppose that's why I'm blogging, though I'm not sure how appropriate this is either.

.........There it is.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

3o Minutes alone in the kitchen

It may not sound like much, but 30 minutes alone in the Kitchen in the House of Try Stuff is a lot.  Yesterday, I was blessed with two circumstances: One was that I arrived home 

with low blood sugar.  The other is that those who were in the house floated away around the time when I went to make a meal (unrelated, I’m sure). I was in a mellow headspace (which is unusual) because my blood sugar wasn’t screechingly low, so I had time to casually think about what I wanted to put together and allow for creativity.  At first, I was uninspired - it had been so long since I’d cooked from a creative headspace that I robotically began with the necessities.  I settled into the process, and relished the chopping, celebrating the lack of urgency and haste around it.  Then new ideas began to spring in.  I began to re-gain the sense of flow that can occur in the kitchen, where the food talks and you listen.  Hands become a conduit for the dance of the foods that want to come together that night.  A small smile spread across my mouth, and I sensed a shy joy bubbling up within me.  I began to dance a little with the food, and intuition took over.  

Before long I was sitting at the table, ingesting a meal that spoke to my senses in a way that a meal I’d made hadn’t done in a long time.  I was re-connecting with flavours that fire off my pleasure and digestion. The simple remembering of what a vinaigrette can do for my satisfaction is enough. 30 minutes alone in the kitchen was enough to make me joyful and reconnected.