ambitious_wench

In a recent and private entry, one of my friends asked :

What are the most important things to you?

Her list of answers was impressive. Noble, even. I have to ask myself the same question, and t's not easy coming up with answers. But here they are, in no particular order.

1. Keeping my greenhouse warm.

Wait, wait, it's not as limited as that. It's aslo about nuturing in general--feeding the rabbits, petting the cats, it's about providng an atmosphere where life can thrive. I suppose it means also that I provide other important things besides warmth to the things I am nurturing.

2. Turning the compost

Again, not as trivial as it sounds. This includes layering the compost, as well as making sure it gets turned regularly. It means knowing carbon to nitrogen ratios, and judging how much to water. When it all comes together, it heats, and again, it's about nurturing. Compost is the opposite of gardening. It's the breaking down instead of the growth. It's about nurturing the soil that in turn sustains the plants that in turn sustain me.

3. Pulling weeds.

Not easy. First, I have to determine what are weeds, and what do I want to keep. Then it's a matter of pulling them early, when they are small, and easier to uproot.

4. Feeding and watering, fertilizing and sprinkling.

I think this reflects back on #1 up there.

5. Choosing my plants.

This is important--I only have so much room. Brandywine, or Mortgage lifter? Potatoes, or garlic? And where can I grow my mesclun salad? Carots? Beets?

6. Harvesting

Don't let it rot on the vine. Pick it, eat it, let the juices run down your chin. Savor it. Tomatoes warm from the afternoon sun, or dig into the arable loam and pull out the cool brown potato. Share with neighbors, co-workers. Chop the chives, mince the basil, or put the cherry toatoes in a blender and add a garlic clove. It's all good. Fondle the slick skin of a purple eggplant. Feel it's breast-like form resting in your hand. Harvest should be a riot of senses. The snap of carrots, the color of sunflowers, the smell of mint, the itch of tomato vines, the flavor of autumn.

7. Learn.

Learn your garden. Learn your soil. Learn your plants, learn their needs. Learn, learn, learn. And remember: Ignorance is curable. Stupidity isn't.