This Week's Challenge - CONTAINER GARDENING

Yesterday was glorious.  The sun was shining, the air was warming, and we were out and about.  Nevermind that the temperature didn't bother to reach 40, but thumbed its nose at us, sitting teasingly at 39 degrees.  Yes, I know that spring isn't here yet, and that it will probably snow again in April, but to us wind-chilled Chicagoans, yesterday was a promise of warmer days to come.

Which of course led me to thinking about gardens.

Mostly because we don't have one.

I figured out why so many people are grumpy in the city.  It's because there are too many people living on too little land.  I think that if everyone had access to a garden, even a small 10' x 10' plot, we'd all be much happier.  Even drivers would be nicer, simply because, in all likelihood, they would be driving to or from their garden.  Although, I think gardens should be a walkable distance from your house...

I've mentioned in earlier posts about the dark cave that is our back stairwell.  And probably also about the annoyance of lugging groceries up three flights of stairs.  But living where we do has its benefits.  First of all, we don't have any traffic running past us, being the end of the line for the stairs, so no one comes by to trip on the numerous pots and whatnots I leave on the stairs.  Secondly, we have two bits of landings - one right outside out back door, which extends to the opposite end of the stairwell and at this very moment contains an assortment of last year's potting soil, a pack'n'play, some painting supplies I left out there, and a drying rack which is broken but which we still use when we do too much laundry to hang dry.  Our downstairs neighbors don't have this luxury, having to share their space with our potential feet.  So that's nice.  We also have a laundry line which (ineffective though it may be in the winter), gives our pants and blankets that fresh outside smell.

But it's the other landing which has the most potential.  We have a huge "window," which is basically just an unbricked bit of wall, which faces south.  Although it's hung over by our neighbor's lovely tall maple tree, and it mostly shaded in the summer, it still affords us access to light, and that's what we're going to use this year to grow some tasty things.

I've decided upon a two-fold method of gardening.  First, we will have a community garden plot.  I'm still trying to figure out how and where, but I'm determined to find some earth somewhere in which we can plant all manner of tasty vegetables, most notably Miss Olivia's Daucus carota var sativus, a.k.a. carrots.  She picked this kind after several choice changes, and she's very excited about purple carrots.  Who wouldn't be?

That being said, I'm not going to rest on any sort of laurels, even if I had any.  We are going to start planning and planting our (drumroll, please)... CONTAINER GARDEN!!!

Here's the list of players:

1.  Pots.  You can't grow anything in a container until you have a container in the first place.  We prefer good old earthenware pots, but this year, I'm thinking about upwards movement, and trying to see if I can rig some sort of trellis to hang some plastic pots from...  We will start with 6" clay pots.

2.  Soil.  Dirt, earth, you name it.  Whole Foods sells something called "Coast of Maine" potting soil, which looks cool, but is $10 for an eight pound bag...  We will probably get some organic mix from Lowes or Home Depot.

3.  Sun.  Thank goodness, I'm not in charge of this one...  Go, sun, go!

4.  Water.  I can help with this, but I'll appreciate any assistance from Mother Nature...  There's this great little watering can from The Hunger Site.

5.  SEEDS!!  We ransacked Whole Food's supply yesterday and came home toting these beauties:

Yum and yum!  Tomorrow, I will start seeding, once I get my hands on some soil!

Exciting!!

Being Poor

I'm posting this on both of my blogs, simply because I think it's important.  And cool.  And also because I like to take up space.

I am an anthropologist.  Not by trade, because no one really pays me to anthropologize, and only a little by training (as I still have yet to fulfill that last foreign language credit to earn my Bachelor's degree...),  but by action, as I am constantly studying the habits of people, primarily little people named Olivia and Elsie, and learning about people all over the world, in order to teach my children and (frankly) to eat tastier food.  I am not an English major, either, as that last was certainly a run-on sentence.

Nathan is an actor.  By trade, which right now is coming in fits and bursts, as auditions come and go, and by training - first at one university where he entered the program which closed the following year, and then another, where he had to start all over again in order to follow the program in sequence - but mostly by action.  He loves acting.  It moves him in ways I do not quite understand, but can recognise beneath his calm exterior.  He is happiest when he is creating, and he creates by acting.

On the surface, we are run-of-the-mill, 9-5 folks, who are maybe peculiar by religion (being members of the Baha'i Faith) or maybe eating habits.  Nathan holds a "regular" job at the Baha'i House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois, can take down a pint of ice cream in 5 minutes, and has a love/hate relationship with the Chicago Bears that only a tried and true fan can survive.  I stay home with our two little ones, make shopping lists, and try to calm the beast that is housekeeping.  But scratch a little of the gold paint off, and we are complicated and weird.  Probably just like you are.

The main problem is that both of us would rather be doing something else, but in order to work in this world, we are doing what we need to do to feed and clothe and love our families.  Having little children is rough work - it's not some "hooray, let's play all day long!" jamboree, but a constant mirror of all of your little personal glitches and a gigantic balancing act of personal time and sacrifice.  And for an extremely creative person to be working from nine to five as a bookstore manager, when he'd rather be speaking to the souls of people through the performing arts... well, you can imagine.  There are certainly any number of alternate arrangements we could make (I could work part-time or even full-time, Nathan could take care of the girls, we could be nomads...), but this is where we are.

And the end result - we are poor.  I'd like to think "poor in all save God," but that sounds a bit too high brow for my taste, and I don't even know if I'm "rich in God."  Especially when I am trying with all my might not to lose my temper with a smarty-smart three year old who is right more often than I'd like to admit.

But, griping aside, there are some things that keep us going.  For Nathan, it is the dream of fulfilling his calling as an actor.  Recently, that dream has been run through the wringer, but he is tenaciously keeping a candle lit for it.  It is difficult to watch a spouse suffer in this way - to see his determination when going to an especially important audition - the preparation involved, the sleepless anticipation - and then watch as he waits for the call.  And waits.  And waits.  He is bravefaced about it, and doesn't let on to others, but I know better.  And my feeble attempts to cheer him - my wan jokes and paltry distractions - only serve to rub in the fact that we know... we know.

The Baha'i Fast is a time for reflection before the coming New Year on 21 March (Naw Ruz).  It is a time when adult Baha'is (except those who are ill, pregnant, and "giving suck"- yours truly) abstain from food and drink from sunup to sundown for nineteen days.  It is, as I see it, a time for suffering, albeit mildly - to draw the mind and heart of one closer to the sufferings that those dear Manifestations of God who came to earth to teach us about God's Love for us only to be shunned and chained and imprisoned and killed.  This small act of not eating demonstrates our love for and connection to these Blessed Souls.

It is also a time for the stripping away of veils - fasting in many cultures is a process of purification - a time for us to see more clearly our lives and roles for the coming year.  The clarification I learn during this fasting time is how I can better serve myself, my family, and humanity.  During these past few days, while we have held our breath with Nathan to hear about his audition, I have reflected on my role in the family and especially my role in supporting him.  And I've realized that the best way to support both my daughters and my husband is to be strong in who I am.

The dream that keeps me going is one of equity and justice, and it is mightily green.  My calling, vague as it is, involves feeding and teaching people about food - about where our food comes from and how it grows.  About reinvesting value into that precious nourishment we give our bodies.  Food and prayer nourish us in ways we don't even realize - one feeds our body, the other our soul - and they aren't that far apart.  I envision a farm - an urban farm, perhaps - where everyone is welcome to come and learn how to live in balance.  I suppose before I realize this dream, I've got to figure it out myself.

My goal, then, for this fast, is to develop my own balance.  To gracefully grow into my own confidence, and from there, to lovingly encourage those around me to do the same.  To develop a systematic way of being in the world that is simple yet profound - one that I can teach to my children with the utmost love and respect - and to move through this precious one life with a loving impact on those I encounter.  Not that I'm some amazing Zen nun - I've still got a temper the size of Niagara Falls - but at least I know it, and can channel that passion into other endeavors.  This of course does not mean that I'll not ever get off track, but at least I will have a touchstone.

So I suppose being poor has its advantages - primarily, I realise that my dreams will have to have no contingency upon income.  Which leaves me the realm of the spirit.  That is, of course, infinite.

Hooray!!