Summer's Official

I am having more fun than I think any single person has the right to, and it's all here in Durham, a town I rarely leave. After four summers, I'm finally getting to some local staples. I'm taking my first ballet class at 9th Street Dance, just went to my first ADF performance last night, and have started running with the Godiva Track Club, an institution of regional runners for over 30 years. That's on top of the "regular" trips to the Eno quarry, weekend brunches, 3 hour bike rides on great rural roads, free Music on the Lawn at American Tobacco - and gardening. LOTS of gardening. On top of all that, (no wonder I'm behind on my blogging), I've started helping out at Loaf Bakery a couple days a week, including setting up and running their booth at the Wednesday Farmer's Market. SO MUCH FUN! I get to talk to people, help them decide what amazing breads to buy, get the "inside scoop" on local farmers. Never mind the heat, I get to nibble on bread and people-watch for hours. Oh, and K and I just went with some friends to a swing dance that, while in Carrboro, was well worth the drive. Put in there K's birthday, plenty of Habitat time (my aunt and uncle's haven in the country), a weekend or two at the beach, and that's one slamming summer.  Got to remember to rest so I can keep up!

The garden is turning into an urban farm, and I don't know how many pictures are floating in the ether because I've seen more and more people taking shots from the sidewalk with their phones. It makes me smile every time. My tomatoes got hit hard with early blight and because of rain, it took a bit for me to treat the plants. The good folks at Stonebrothers helped me out once again and the plants seem to be recovering under their "prescription." Probably the biggest blunder so far is dwarfed corn. I waited too long to fertilize and now I have stunted stalks which will grow too-small ears of corn. I'll just consider this my "learning year." But the beans and squash don't seem bothered; I just had to build trellises for the climbing plants and the ground is quickly getting overrun with vines and blooms. I've started getting sungolds and summer squash, lots of herbs, and I just spotted the summer's first cucumbers. The last big project I need to complete is reconfiguring my drip irrigation system. I'm late on anyone's standards but with all the rain it hasn't been too much of a bother to water until recently. Wonder where that chunk of time is coming from??? Once again, thanks for reading and apologies for the update-gap. Below are some more garden photos -- more soon as things grow exponentially fast.

Believe it or not - I think I've run out of space

In another week's time, I've managed to put even more plants in the ground. The farmer's market, half-priced bulbs at Home Depot, and a gardening neighbor passing along seeds all combined last weekend and now, finally, I think I should stop. I'll have my hands full come June, I'm sure.

The mounds are made in my three sister's plot and the corn planted. When the corn is 4 inches tall, I'll plant green beans that will climb the stalks, and squash that will cover the ground - or that's the plan anyway. I've read about clusters working for corn (usually requiring long rows at least three deep for pollination), but seeing this big plot of dirt in my front yard on Saturday I chuckled, thinking "Am I really trying to do this?"

I mulched the hell out of my flower-herb-tomato patch, wanting to suppress as many weeds as possible, but already this morning I spotted lots of little grass. Damn - this is going to be a battle all summer long. I finally got explicit permission from my neighbor that, yes, in fact it IS okay that I'm planting all kinds of stuff in front of his town house (his roommate had okayed me last year, and she's no longer there) and that made putting more flowers on the west side of our building even better.

Lastly, my compulsion to garden overflowed my own yard and Friday I tended the small garden in front of Nataraja, a yoga studio I frequent once or twice a week. I'd been eying the garden for about a month, thinking "It needs weeding, it needs mulch, that plant really should be cut back, who the hell thought putting mint there was a good idea . . . " Finally, on Friday, I asked if I'd be stepping on anyone's toes and then promptly got down to business, donating a couple hours and bags of mulch. I also bought a verbena plant to donate but there wasn't a good spot for it . . . so now it's in my garden. Oh darn. Along with some cuttings of lemon thyme, yarrow, and white tipped english thyme. Got to love free plants.

Below is another slideshow of recent garden pictures. Good planting to you fellow gardening folk, and good eating to the rest!

Spring Harvest and Summer Planting

I have been so busy in the garden the past two weeks, I thought it best to make a slide show to share all the growth and changes. Even I have been surprised how many hours it's taken to prepare for summer growing, but I've loved every minute. With my neighbor giving me clearance in front of his townhouse, I'm able to plant more this year, and cultivating that bed from grass has been a 5 month process of tilling by hand, weeding, and adding all kinds of dirt and soil amendments. Now, the space holds the bulbs of gladioli (though I'm not convinced they'll do well in this n.c. clay), various types of basil, tomatoes, flowers, herbs, and my first perennial - a butterfly bush.

I've been holding back from planting anything too "permanent" not knowing how long we would be in this location. Now, almost 4 years later, I decided, what the hell, let's plant some stuff that'll come back. After the butterfly bush, the floodgates opened and I invested in a medium sized lavender that already has some blooms, a coreopsis that I am in love with, a purple columbine that has already dropped all it's flowers, and this beautiful red grass inspired by The Habitat (my aunt and uncle's land of gardening bliss).

Much of my seed starting for flowers failed, and I was itching for more color, so Friday I picked up 3 6-packs of dragon flowers that fit the bill perfectly. This morning I transplanted just-sprouted italian parsley and too-little bell peppers I've been coaxing to grow for almost two months now - and when I discovered slugs had nibbled more than half away this morning, I threw up my hands, planted the surviving three, and will shell out some dough this weekend at the farmer's market for a few more.

Last week, I got a huge bag of pine mulch (one of my favorite smells in the world) to help keep weeds down and hold in moisture. I love how all my in-ground plants look more intentional and protected now. Also, I got to use my own compost for the first time! It was such a proud feeling of the first bucket from my compost trashcan to flower bed. It was light, fluffy, and fresh smelling - it only took two years . . .

I'm being more vigilant with tomatoes this year, which started with getting hardier varieties (sorry heirlooms, you're delicious but you suck in the growing and producing departments). Upon suggestion from the wise people at Stone Brothers, I purchased rock for the bottom of my buckets to help with drainage, and now I'm on the lookout for scrap brick to set them off the ground. I also worked to lighten the soil a good bit because I think the roots got too compact last summer and made them even more susceptible to disease. I was planning on planting 9 tomatoes, which for two people is already more than enough, but 4-packs as they are, now there's 14 in my garden. Yum.

Lastly, with all this summer planting has been spring picking. Most of my stuff did not do well with the spring weather as it was, but in the end I got some great radishes, enough chard for a decent sized dish, several big salads from the lettuces, more scallions than I know what to do with, and peas that are the only thing I've left to keep growing because they're so delicious and in the middle of producing. If you're a local, come by and give things a look in person. Plenty of people from the street already do, and I have enjoyed all the conversations and questions from neighbors and strangers while my hands are covered in dirt and I'm doing who-knows-what on any given day. This garden has brought more people to say 'hi' than I would have imagined. And as always, thanks for reading!

Muffins and Blooms

After four days of celebrating turning 27, which included Bull City Burger, a dozen Daisy Cakes cupcakes to last the weekend, and a fair amount of booze, I woke up this Monday morning craving hot tea and bran muffins. Usually, that doesn't sound as appealing as about any other kind of muffin, but these are the fluffiest, moist bran muffins ever. Once again, America's Test Kitchen hits it out of the park. Bran twigs, soaked raisons, yogurt . . . I've had three.

While I had to pull up bolted spinach and cabbage, there's enough happening in the garden to distract my too-hot-spring woes. Behold, the very first blooms and a baby sugar snap pea:

 This pretty purple iris just bloomed this morning. I have no idea how long these have been planted here, but as I see different colored irises around the townhouse complex, it could be decades. I rescued these and some other bulb flowers in February from ivy and other invasive vines choking out everything else. I'm sure I'll have to keep vigilant throughout the summer to keep creeping weeds at bay, but I'm not complaining as this is my neighbors side of the yard - I'm just happy he's never home and doesn't mind me taking over.



My sage is also blooming for the first time. I've had this plant through two winters now and I love the delicate violet flowers.

In other garden news, about two-thirds of the seeds I've started indoors have flopped. The only ones I'm still counting on (and are doing okay) are my bell pepper plants and basil. Everything else, I'll replant directly in the ground in three weeks. I can't believe it's almost time for summer vegetables, and yet, where's the spring salad? Where's the chard and spinach? Such a weird season.

Spring Salads and Community

While the spring is producing a fraction of the vegetables I had this time last year, I'm still enjoying the little bit I can finally pick and use. My spinach has bolted without me getting any of it, along with bok choy (I'm resigned to pulling these plants today, no use watering them any longer) but I have enjoyed edible flowers, herbs, and my first salad bowl worth of baby greens (though I had to hunt for leaves just big enough).

 

On Sunday we had neighbors over for what turned out to be the perfect spring meal. I was hankering to use my newly planted johnny-jump-ups so I made a "composed salad" of strawberries, bacon, toasted walnuts, chives, and flowers over mixed greens with fresh made strawberry vinaigrette. It was fun putting four plates together that looked so nice, but the presentation didn't deter anyone from finishing off every bite. 

I had also started dough for french baguettes two days before and was thoroughly pleased by the final product Sunday morning. 

Top it off with some raspberry iced tea made with lemon and mint and mini quiches the guests brought (that had such a wonderful, flaky crust) and we all sat to a perfect, light, fresh spring brunch. 

While eating and chatting, a topic came up that I have been thinking about for a while: community. My neighbors, who moved from Florida last summer for Duke, make a valiant effort to invest in Durham and will quickly talk about it's best restaurants and their finds at the farmer's market. Yet, because most of their associations are with fellow students who are from everywhere but this area, the bubble around the university is still prevalent. Hearing what many of their friends have to say about the area and how much people are traveling away from it, I recognized an outsider's perspective of my home that I'm beginning to dislike. Perhaps I'm protective because I've been transient most of my life, and 3.5 years in a single house is the longest I've ever stayed put. But I think there's something else there, and it doesn't just come from students.

Let me be clear that I am not claiming Durham perfect and that everyone should love and settle here for all time. The Triangle itself is a bubble in an otherwise conservative, poor state. My families' family is from N.C. and yet I don't feel particularly rooted here. In fact, with the increasing prejudice in this state, and the country as a whole, toward my identity as a "partnered" lesbian who's vehemently opposed to religious rhetoric in politics, K and I have developed what we call our "Canadian Dream," in which we've researched and are beginning investigative travel to potentially immigrate. While I'm aware of the "grass is greener" syndrome, I still know that girls can marry girls in Canada and Jesus is not carried around on the shirt sleeves of most of their politicians. 

So it's not really about Durham. It's about how people inhabit and invest (or the lack there of) wherever they live. It's a level of consciousness and commitment that I don't see very often. I'm sure it's a combination of tons of factors that I am unaware of, but I see some common, basic things that keep people more distant from where they live: 

(1) Consistent travel away from the area, largely to spend large chunks of time at parents' homes or a past community. There's visiting and then there's identification that somewhere else is your "real home." I am not surprised to see this in students who have yet to choose an area for themselves, but the nature of the Triangle's diversity has many working adults who are here for the job first, community last. 

(2) The "fast food rut" - where most of the shopping and activities are at locales that are largely consistent anywhere in the country. Fast food got popular with the increase of car travel. Driving to a state park, hungry for dinner? Stop in McDonalds and you always know what you'll get. If all a person does is essentially the bland "all-american" variety, it doesn't really matter where you live. It all can look the same, and who'd invest in Taco Bell, really? 

(3) Lack of intention. If you're not aware and focused toward being a genuine part of a community, it won't just happen. Going to work, coming home to kids, dogs, etc, shopping, and watching t.v. does not make community. Hanging out with a group of friends does not necessarily make community. Going to all the hot spots of a town does not make community.  Gardening, going to they gym, or cooking does not make community. It does not just happen. There is no formula or tasks to check off a list. I think it takes intention and gumption. It takes talking to people, really talking. It takes making a stand against something you don't like and talking about that too. It takes sharing experiences with other people you live near. Being a good neighbor, but also being a good stranger, being aware of the people you share the roads with. Knowing families and small business owners so you go to the local seed store rather than the chain store. And you talk to them when you're there. 

Life is crazy, and times are hard for so many of us. I know just keeping our heads above the water is daunting at times, and I am thankful I only have cats. But still, I do think if there was more true community in our everyday, the task of living a decent life would be a collective one. Accountability, encouragement, being called out on our shit, and a general support - this is the community I work toward. This is what I'm defending when I hear people list all the cons of Durham without any balance of investment, without trying to do something about it. They don't have a community here. I can only encourage everyone, if you live somewhere, to really live there.

Spring Sprung . . . then got hijacked

Remember folks - it's only March. That's three months into the new year and I've already gotten sunburned twice. My spring plants could not be more confused. About a month ago there was unseasonal hard freezes and a bit of snow, now I'm looking at the second week in a row of temperatures topping 80. I have bok choy and spinach with barely a few leaves bolting. Bolting. That means they're going to seed already. My lettuce is way to small to test for bitterness, but if it doesn't cool down I can bet on inedible leaves. My peas are climbing fast, but that's not a warm weather plant either. Really, I'm bracing myself for no spring crop at all. I just keep telling myself how grateful I am that I'm not a farmer, that my livelihood isn't based on this, that it's more a hobby. Then I stop cold and realize, wait, but I eat the food of farmers. I can't just dismiss whacky weather like that. We all depend on food, you know, to survive. Oh 70 degrees, could you just come back for a little while? Even three weeks would help.

I've still been busy in the garden though, getting coated with pollen as the visible yellow cloud blows up and down my pine tree lined street. I found another tire and a random container on the side of the road, so now I have TWO purple planters! 

Also, I had this broken worm bin since last fall and decided yesterday to salvage the good trays for flower pots. Besides, I was reading an herb cookbook and saw all these beautiful flowers in salads and promptly went to Stone Brothers to get some Johnny-jump-ups. Flowers to eat - the best of both worlds, I say.

I've started other flowers in egg cartons and the shaded part of my garden shrinks everyday. Now if things could just cool off enough to let everything grow!!

Last thing, I made a video yesterday to enter Duke's Nicholas School of the Environment's "Gotcha" Green Living contest. It had to be a 30 second video of you or someone else being "caught" in the act of sustainable something. So I made this  Check it out and let me know what you think. I hope I'm one of the winners . . . $500 would be nice!

Tire Planter

The weather yesterday was delicious. A perfect Sunday afternoon to be outside in the garden. The sun is slowly making its way back around the north side of my town house, and because my pea shoots were getting just high enough to climb, I went ahead and moved all the planters to the front. The configuration is nice and tidy for now, but as plants grow and bush out, my garden footprint will bulge.

What I really had fun with, though, was converting an old tire into a planter - almost for free. Last fall, I picked up a tire from the side of the road. Yesterday, while arranging my containers, I remembered I had it. Rolled it around, tried to slosh out a winter's worth of leaves and water, and decided to paint it. I had no paint, so I went over to the Scrap Exchange. [Side note for those of you who may not know this, or have yet to check out the new location: the Scrap Exchange is one of the coolest places in Durham. Located in a huge new space over by Golden Belt, the re-use center is my go-to spot for fabric, paper, containers, plastic, random garage-sale-like items, and all sorts of odds and ends. If you live near here, you should go, often.] I found a sample jar of blue-grey paint for 25 cents. Loosened the ground where I wanted the planter, wiped down the tire quickly, and painted it with a brush I already had.

It looked better than expected when I was done. Filled it with dirt and planted some bok choy. Now it's one of my favorite planters, and I did it for a quarter. I need at least one more, because I still have paint and they're the perfect size for squash plants. Matching tire planters, one squash, one zucchini, got to make it happen. So, any of you locals who happen to see a free tire and do not need it yourself- LET ME KNOW. But really, how could you resist making this yourself?

More buttons, with a little paper mixed in

My focus at the desk this week has been nil. Checking my spring seedlings only takes 10 minutes and I haven't had to water in days. Even after exercise, chores around the house, and seeing some of my kids, I've had a hefty chunk of time I "should" have been writing but knew nothing was going to come. And again, the lack of focus makes working through a narrative slump even harder. So what to do? Make more things with buttons (okay, so I got a little obsessed).

First off, I made a different kind of button tree:

I used sturdy scrapbook paper, sketched the shape lightly in pencil, and started gluing. Put it in an open frame and the random width and texture of the buttons create a subtle 3-D effect in a mostly 2-D picture. I've seen this technique used for button letters on fabric, hearts, and other shapes.

Another day, while indulging in one of my guilty pleasure t.v. shows (my most recent obsession is Xena, Warrior Princess, which I've never seen before), I made pastel flowers in honor of Spring:

Similar technique as the felt flowers and button wire tree of the previous post, it's as simply as stacking buttons, threading wire, and twisting.

To top everything off, I also made these paper birds (last weekend, I found fantastic scrapbook paper stacks on sale): 

By far the fastest craft I've ever made - and I think they look so cute! Spoiler alert - friends and family may very well be seeing this later as gifts. Cut out tear drop shapes and use a pen to draw the sparse details. I saw the idea here: http://www.creatingreallyawesomefreethings.com/2010/07/annie-inspiration-5-simple-birdies.html

As always, thanks for checking in. My goal after all this handmade crafting is to get some brain babies on paper. There's plenty mulling, just not much coming out. I have a few great kids to see in the next couple days, however, and time pretending, getting on different age levels, and talking about life with a teenager often gets me in a jazzed, creative space. Go out and make something - or grow something. Do something creative. It's good for you!

Buttons!

They've been around a while, holding stuff together in vital areas. Buttons have moved from humble beginnings hundreds of years ago, to the symbol of power and oppulence, and back again. Who doesn't have a jar or bag of random buttons somewhere in their house? Wood, sea shell, plastic, metal, ceramic. Every color and size, I even have some weird chicken ones. My collection brings together my grandmother's, K's mother's, and my own found, thrifted, and purchased. Utilitarian, whimsical, and even scary (as in Coraline's button eyes for the Other Mother and Father), I decided to organize my stash and make something. I found this website as endless inspiration: http://pinterest.com/spilltojill/so-many-things-to-do-with-buttons/

Seeds Indoors- the experiment

Until this year, I've shied away from starting seeds indoors. In theory, I always knew it was the better option simply on cost. One basil plant at the garden store is $3.95. The farmer's market is a little better, with a 4-pack for that price. A packet of basil seeds, however, with a couple hundred potential plants in it, is about 2 bucks. Why, you may ask, not just plant the seeds directly outdoors? Totally an option, unless you're impatient for the taste of summer as I (and most gardeners I know) always am come April. Or, the plant in question needs more growing time than the area's season allows (like tomatoes and peppers). Putting plants, rather than seeds, in the dirt after the last frost can cut one to two months off waiting time to start harvesting.

If you google indoor seed starting, though, it's intimidating. Techniques (and price) range from milk and egg cartons to multi-hundred dollar systems of movable shelves, special eco-domes, and automatically timed sunlamps. Pile onto that a lack of space, two curious cats, and sun that only comes in the south windows, and my decision seemed easy. Until this year. The direction my garden is taking, the number of high priced plants I want, and my general try it and see attitude made me want to experiment.

I decided to use what I had and go cheap and simple, which included an egg carton, some small planters from previous years, and cups made out of newspaper.

Newspaper works well for plants that don't like their roots disturbed, like cucumbers, but also for being free. Tear a piece of newspaper in half and wrap it around a can, leaving about an inch off the end. Fold down the bottom, fill it with potting soil, and place a bunch in a container that will hold water. Because it's paper, you'll need to water from the bottom up by pouring directly into the container. Then, in 6-8 weeks, you plant the whole thing, paper and all.

For the milk carton (which has to be styrofoam because cardboard will disintegrate), poke holes in the bottom of each section and cut the top away to use as a drip tray. I have heard various levels of success with this, so I'm growing cilantro and parsley that I don't care as much about. Plan what seeds go where and get to planting.

I only have a few spots to put all these future seedlings, so we'll be coexisting for a while. 

That is if they ever make it to plants with the likes of this one: 

Seedling updates to come in a month or so!

Urban Gardening the Dirty Durham Way

I live in a townhouse a mile and a half from downtown Durham in an older neighborhood of 1950's kit houses in one direction, and slum apartments in the other. Our non-descript brick buildings echo a once nicer housing community, but now simply boast some of the cheapest rent for location in town. There are plenty of Duke grad students, a few young families with crying babies, and a scattering of working 20 and 30 somethings like my partner and me. I've been here for over three years and had hardly met anyone else living on our street until last summer. What changed? A garden that looked like this:     

It rivaled even the dog-phenomenon of people meeting. During the high time of summer, I could not be outside without a walker, biker, even some car riders, stopping to comment, ask questions, or let me know they've been watching it grow for months and finally caught me outside to tell me so. Wow. And I thought it was my own semi-private thing. Most people are in their own worlds, right? Who really cares about gardens except for gardeners? Grow something big in front of your house and find out.

I like Durham mostly because it's still dirty. Sure, there's plenty of hipsters and eco-mommies and tech guys who commute into Raleigh. But as a whole, if you live anywhere near Durham proper (vs. Southpoint or close to Chapel Hill) chances are higher that you're a cool person. There's still enough rough edges, diversity, and wriggle room in this town to attract those who prefer a little more originality. I definitely would call my style of gardening "dirty." I grow on the cheap, I plant seeds in just about anything that will hold dirt and can have holes drilled for drainage, and I don't mind stepping on a few traditionalist's toes (even to gardeners, having everything "exposed" out front is weird. As is how closely I cram in plants. And I haven't exactly asked permission from my townhouse owner). 

It might not look like much now, but I've got even bigger plans for 2012:

 

My motto: Why have grass when you can have anything else. I have graciously been given passing permission from my neighbors on the corner to use their space as well. I had already widened and cleaned up the existing bed, but after coming home yesterday with a new packet of half priced sunflower seeds, I decided to extend it around the side of the building. Who doesn't like flowers anyway? Even 6 foot tall ones? As for the big block of dirt in the background of the top picture? That's the future plot of a three sisters garden: corn, green beans, and pumpkin interplanted. That's right. Corn in front of my townhouse. I can't wait.

But for now, I nurture just-sprouted seedlings for my spring garden, which you plant in February around here.

The two trash cans on cinderblocks are compost bins, dirty Durham style. These containers are around back until the sun pattern returns to the north side of my building. I'll be moving everything in a few weeks. That is if random snows and mid-70 degree days don't royally mess things up even more than they already have.

 More urban gardening updates to come as the season progresses. And if this makes you at all inclined to grow something, do it. Just put a couple seeds in some dirt and experiment. Gardening can be like Alice's rabbit hole, easily getting lost in never-ending resources, advice, critters eating your food, and potential outcomes. But hell, just plant a seeds and see what happens.

Leap Day - hello blog world

 I'm in the kitchen, barely conscious enough to be making coffee. Happy juice, my partner (K) and I have started calling it. I'm in a blue, fur covered robe while she's in slacks and heels.

"What are you up to today? What're you thinking about?" K asks, much more awake than I am.

I shrug, bleary eyed, "Stuff. Things. You know."

"What kind of stuff?" She doesn't always persist, and I'm not always vague.

"Um, writing stuff, errand stuff, work stuff."

"That's a lot of stuff."

"Yeah . . . " and we leave it at that.

We've done a lot of work to be comfortable with the life style we've chosen, but it still feels weird sometimes when she's off to an office, co-workers, actually making money, and I have the entire day ahead mostly alone, making my own schedule, being at home. I suppose that makes me an odd type of housewife. Odd because (1) we have no children who would traditionally keep a spouse home, (2) we are not married, it being illegal and all, and (3) besides the cooking, crafting, and gardening, I don't really fit the housewife bill.

I'm 26 and certainly employable. I do make a little cash babysitting, but it wasn't my lack of career options that has kept me home. And it's not the "stay home and write so you can get famous one day and pay me back for supporting you all these years" artist funding that it may have started out as (even though there never is a "payback" for that kind of thing). It has been a clear choice for me to stay home, for us to live off one and an eighth income, to share a car. Mostly because it came naturally, partly because I'm really lucky.

Even though I had explained what a leap year was to a seven year old this weekend, I forgot about the "extra" day until an hour ago, seeing the 29 on my computer's calendar. I sat here, thinking about the day half gone, what I had done in it, and then randomly a conversation a friend and I had had over a year ago:  You should write a blog. What? Yeah. A blog. The way you pretend with kids, your kick-ass garden, everything. You write. Yeah, but not blogs. I don't even read blogs. So. You should make one. Put down your ideas. You never know who might want to read them. 

I did not follow up on his suggestion. Didn't even really think about it. Not my thing, I told myself. Not until this afternoon, not until Leap Day at least. I was reading a new blog from one of the mom's I help, and the lightbulb finally clicked. Hey, maybe I should start a blog. What about? My life in Durham.