Place your bets

Adam was filling his water tank. More exactly, Adam was draining his water tank onto the compost pile while the rain was filling it and threatening to overflow the tank. Spring is a complicated time. Early spring is a dance with winter. Plant out too early and the plants will die or go into shock and actually take longer to grow. The spinach which poked up is great for an evening salad but it might stunt the onions it surrounds if allowed to grow too much. Leave the water tank to fill and overflow and the adjacent wood chips will wash down the hill. Leave the the drain open you capture no water for the dry weeks ahead. - Time to check the tank level. He put his hat on and walk in the rain.

The rain had been gentle and steady. Even with the drain open there was some overflow but nothing disastrous. Adam thought of the line from that sitcom long in the future, Mad About You. The wife is trying to get the husband to admit he was wrong. After many iterations he finally says "It's not the most right I ever was." Adam laughed to himself and thought gardens and wives, make your mistakes small and they'll still feed you. Swing for the fence, make a bold choice, put it all on the line - Well you'll either be THE G.O.A.T. or the other type of goat in the barn waiting to be sacrificed.

Ah, the sacrifice. With Passover and Easter long in the future but on the calendar in just the weeks ahead he'd have to continue his weekly fast and prepare himself. Serious celebrations these were. In The Garden God had provided. Now, God was more patient than Eve but still He wanted a proper sacrifice - 'the most right' Adam could make.

He thought further into the future to a man who's head God had turned. It would be hard to have come so close to death and not presume you were intended to swing for the fences. But every swing?! If every choice was bold was that what was necessary to correct a litany of poor sacrifices? Past sacrifices that were 'mostly right' but still left the tank empty. Adam hoped that future would please God but he had his tank to check. Perhaps later he would go to that casino the neighbors had built.

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Taste like cucumber

I've got to start us off with Waylon Jennings' classic. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kxll2-th4Gc Deb and I went down to our cabin in the mountains for the Memorial weekend. More exactly we went down to our tiny RV on the property next to the cabin. The cabin floor is close to finished and thus the bed and all are stuffed in the bathroom awaiting warm weather and the final coat of shellac. A 20' RV two adults and two dogs makes for close quarters, especially when it starts raining. That said there is something quite wonderful about playing rummy 500 by lantern light with Deb. It's way too easy in a marriage to get to plinking along in your little path and forget how nice it is to have a wife you love. I suggested to Deb that although the RV is getting on 40 years old we could probably get a pretty penny for it if we marketed it as a marital therapy tool. (therapy dogs extra!) Being a gardener I have sprinkled some seeds as the cabin h...

The tomatoes are red the gardener is blue

I'm stuck in a loop. I think that's what software programmers call it. I know the roots of this hopelessness are firmly planted in the utter destruction of our cabin and property in the forest fire that I alluded to in the last blog's prologue. Knowing the source of a polluted stream doesn't really help if your just wallowing in it. It's the wallowing that is the loop. A sporadic series of should haves and could haves that leave you so second guessed out that I've got little mental energy to accomplish all but the littlest things. Musically speaking I got da blues! The music is Billie Holiday - Lady in Autumn. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Npoe5XeeMYE&list=PLbYb5_Imn1rsDMoIU38jxi_O0aRaYj4CG 'cause given my mood - well, it was the obvious choice. If you're a libertarian like me it's hard not to on occasion reflect on a woman who's life included heroin abuse, alcohol abuse, abusive relationships and died at 44. The line between libert...

Bleeping grackles

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The price of free

I came in when I heard the thunder but was intentionally not going to write. Couldn't live up to that commitment when Pryor Baird & the Deacons started playing Little Red Wagon. I can't find a YouTube link so I'm substituting with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEmvBdRLg4k and I'll leave you to find this driving rhythm. If you're thinking I've heard Little Red Wagon done by___. Yeah everybody done it. Some versions are so slow and deep delta bluesish that you gotta figure heroin was on the menu. This is I think you'd call it more Chicago blues with a staccato driving beat. No matter what you call it my hands started slapping the desk and that led to slapping this keyboard. For some technical reason beyond my imagination the stereo has flipped past the rest of the CD and gone on to John Mayall Plays John Mayall. It's John Mayall so I'm not going to argue. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W3BK8-Mmn1s&list=PL94gOvpr5yt2BTHyFMsHR...

Notes from the bunker -Spring

If you want to find the most interesting things in my garden you have to go to the edges. It's the first full day of spring. This being Denver, after a couple weeks of 60°s to finish off winter, I'm looking out at 3 or 4 inches of snow and ice. Highs today perhaps the 30°s. Nothing really unusual in that. My desk calendar might be printed in black and white "SPRING BEGINS" but any gardener knows that it's not that binary a world. Heck it's not even analog as in a smooth gradual transition. Weather at a mile high is predictable in the sense that winter will be colder than summer but not in the sense that you can't have an 80° day in February and a freeze in July. It's more a what are the chances thing. That gamble is part of the joy of gardening. It's also why the heart of my garden is located in the best sun, in raised beds with the best soil and best access to water. Ya gotta stack the odds some years just to have a chance. Ah but those ed...

After the Garden

Those of you who know me know I hover somewhere between Catholic and agnostic. Thus when I say there are surprisingly few words about Adam in the Bible, you know I had to look to check. If you need to check it yourself go ahead you'll see. A little about how he came to be, a touch about Eve, a bit about that garden thing and then on to what the kids did. Really, I expected a lot more! I mean what about that day Adam was sitting outside the garden fence thwacking a stick against a tree?! He was just thinking, I don't want any more sadness God. Yeah, yeah I know it's your plan and I'm not supposed to question it but your plan sucks! He flipped his middle finger towards heaven. As he did a hummingbird who had become blind landed on it. Yeah, see that's what I mean God. How am I supposed to fix this? Sure I can name it and that's fun but how can I fix the pain in the world? Look at the old garden! It's an overgrown jungle. I need pruners, saws and a shovel...

Eating hope

Adam sat in the sun huddled under a blanket Eve had knitted. Scattered to his right and left a sketch of his new garden and a half dozen seed catalogs. Eve called these his garden porn. To grow a garden you have to guess the future and act in the present. Importantly, that begins with a guess. Some parts were clear; the average last frost, which plants could survive frost, the needed indoor start time for those and the later plants. That schedule had to be married to the best guess of what he wanted to grow and what might grow, again a guess. Once past the guessing a brief bit of pleasure gathering the seeds and ordering what was missing. Adam looked at the sketch and knew from past experience this was about as good as his garden would look. Sure there might be some unexpected wins, a seed or plant that surprised. The unexpected wins would be more than offset by bad weather, pests, or just hopes that never blossomed. Poppies make heroin. Hope is like heroin. Last year ...

Three Little Birds

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A Fog

If you've never been in a fog so thick that you can't see where to go, to read it sounds like a flight of fancy. I've been in such a fog as a young man driving home. You're creeping along a highway hoping what you're taking for a white line means something. Simultaneously, you're desperately eyes locked on the road ahead and fearing what might be coming up behind you. For some reason you feel compelled to get to the safety of home. Adam was in such a fog. Adam had walked most of the way to Nod with his son Cain. To lose one son was a misery too great to bear. To never see the other again made it a journey he'd had to take. That was days ago and he'd been following the sun and the stars West back to Eve, his garden, and his dogs. The fog had begun lightly that morning with the path closed in but clear. Now he was on his knees looking as the path clearly split. Perhaps the Y would rejoin itself just a bit down the way. Perhaps one simply ended beyond w...

Atlas Pooped!

Adam sat with his back to 'The Garden' fence and looked up at the predawn moon. He saw Sirius (the dog constellation) plainly but what was the name of that next constellation? Eve had named it and traced with her finger the bow and the belt. The belt, yeah, yeah, Orion! Orion walked with his Sirius on cold mornings as he had with his own dogs. He'd have to get home soon and walk 'em. A cool wind rang The Garden chimes urging him to move. The peace and the beauty begged him to stay. He'd dally. The new garden was slowly coming together. The raised beds were laid out some with permanent stone walls some with whatever was available. Soil had been scarce or more exactly worms and bugs were scarce. They'd come and were slowly showing up, 'tho not always the good ones first! Thus what he'd planted was thin and haphazard. Better something to eat than nothing. A couple of pears, a nectarine, and a fig, with hope for the future but nothing for tonight'...

small gardens & small government

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