Loving chaos

Jack Deatherage

(8/2024) Well into the third week of July the Cedar Avenue Community Garden is a mashup of successes, "meh"s and "what was I thinking’s. Mostly the latter. The cool spring slowed the growth of the tomato seedlings but caused explosive growth among the cabbages and kale. The soon to follow heatwave and drought all but stopped the cabbage growth as the tomatoes exploded into their own. Of the directly sown seeds the 'Scarlet' runner beans took off in the cool weather as if they had some place to be- like the top of the trellises the town provided them. The winged beans, planted at the same time as the runners, only began serious growth and trellis climbing once the temperature got above 80 degrees and stayed there.

I haven't found a single bean pod among the runner bean vines. That type of bean does not like our hot, humid summers and rarely sets pods though it does bloom well and the flowers attract bumblebees and hummingbirds. The winged bean on the other hand has, in past years, set pods freely in the worst summer's heat. The yard-long beans the library kids sowed in straw bales are also covering their trellis and setting pods while most everything else we planted in straw is stunted or has simply died due to my failure to prep the bales properly.

The DW's early taters were a good week earlier than we expected. She's left her mid to late season spuds in the ground a bit longer even though their tops have collapsed and are drying. I suspect it's been too hot for even the madwoman weed puller to dig potatoes. Not that the heat has stopped her pulling weeds as well as uprooting the row of 'Masai' bush beans that were another disappointment this year.

First Sister, not used to the chaos that is my and the DW's life, has declared she'll not put anymore money into the community garden. She's got well over $1,500 invested in the garden this year. She'll continue to help with the watering, mowing and weeding though. Her focus has shifted to our back yard. She's talking about getting someone in to level out the lumps, bumps, dips and trips I've spent thirty some years creating so she can walk the length of the yard without twisting an ankle or worse. The DW is in agreement with her. I'm dreading the effort this is going to require of me, but I'm already pricing the garden beds and plotting how we'll garden the yard- small bites, taken over our remaining years.

Of course, we're debating over the community garden. The women don't have my enthusiasm for the project and think we should just lift the metal beds and bring them home. I'm all for building a home garden based on what I've learned building the community garden, but I'm not giving up on the Cedar Ave garden now that the worst of getting it started is behind us. Bolstering the women's argument are two of my mentors (more like all my mentors) telling me, "The moment you walk away from the community garden it's done. No one else will step up to take over the project. Hell, you know this town. The apathy here..."

I'm cool with that. Every community gardener I've talked to outside of this place is dealing with the same issues I am- mostly apathy. Though my vision is for the entire lot to eventually become a garden, I can work what we have done so far, by myself if needs be. Besides, I figure working the garden by myself for the next few years will likely see me dropping with a massive heart attack and that will be fitting enough an end. If I'm dead, I don't care if no one else takes up the project and the towns work crew returns the garden to a vacant lot.

Motivation to continue the community garden comes from diverse sources. Oddly, praise from grownups mostly leaves me confused- the garden is a pale imitation, years away from looking like the one in my head. However, preschool children, gigglingly chasing baby rabbits in and out of the garden beds, fill me with hope that someone will eventually take up the garden. Also, hearing that I've inadvertently answered some new gardener's questions about trellises, grow bags, straw bale gardening, the use of metal raised beds, means as much to me as someone getting excited about the flavor of a tomato they'd not heard of before. Hell, seeing the look on the DW's face when I squeezed a snapdragon blossom and it's "mouth" popped open was worth the thousands of dollars we've spent on gardens since we decided we could tolerate each other until death do we part. Though she may yet live long enough to regret that last bit. Assuming she isn't there now. Discovering Eastern Black Swallowtail caterpillars on the dill also makes all the effort worth my while- the women found four this morning.

Because the universe (Father Chaos) is always trying to supply me with what I need, whether I know I need it or not, I was presented with two young men, who, were I to get all Old Testamentishy, I might call angels. Seminarians Gabriel and Juan, dressed in black cassocks, stood in the heat-sink that is the front of our house and explained their part in the Roman Catholic Church's efforts to reintroduce that religion to our community. Twas as a fine discussion of religion and philosophy between an ignorant pagan and educated RCs as I used to have with Bill Seto, the philosopher down the hill.

Anyhow, I came away from the conversation thinking, if the seminarians were willing to endure the awful heat and my blather to save my soul, the least I can do is continue the garden project if it brings only one person to work the garden.

Father Chaos wasn't done presenting me with possibilities though. A week from beginning my seventieth year I'm all philosophical, a thing I'm ill equipped to tackle. I don't know if this sudden need to think things through comes from adding Withania somnifera, Panax ginseng and Astragalus root extract to my regular doses of Ginkgo biloba, or if the Wuhan flu brain fog has finally lifted. Whatever is going on I'm grateful for it as I've next year's gardens to plot and several books on building soil health and moisture retention to read and contemplate.

The day after I submitted the July "Village Idiot" column to this News-jJurnal a paper license renewal form from the MVA appeared in our PO box- a thing I was told would not happen! "You have to renew online or at an MVA computer kiosk." As the DW and First Sister had noticed my returning ability to focus on routine tasks they insisted I submit the form and continue the only task they need me around for. And there I was all ready to become a passenger again. Ah well. I wasn't wild about having to beg rides anyhow.

Hear the laughing gods? Yeah, my cogent time is limited. I gots to get to studying the soil health books!