How Does Your Garden Grow?

       I am an avid gardener. I'm not really sure what that means, by the way, I just like how it sounds when people say it. I think the expression actually came about as a way to suggest that a person thus described is somehow talented at growing things, when in truth, it means he/she just works really hard at it, because it is something that person loves to do. I'm one of those people.
     I first became interested in gardening as a way to spend time with my grandfather, a former bank president who had raised one son and before my arrival had also grandparented another male child (my brother); thus, apart from a number of uneventful years spent with my jolly and complacent grandmother, he had little experience with girls. I think he was surprised at first by the interest I took in the whole process of gardening, which to him, now that I think about it, was more or less an extension of his banking career; i.e, one chooses a prescribed area within which to invest one's energies, dividing that area into specific sections in order to successfully produce the expected yield.
      Imagine his horror, then, when entrusting his 10 year-old granddaughter with a packet of carrot seeds, he witnessed her merrily scatter the seeds randomly over a patch of dirt, simply hoping for the best to happen. (Now that I think about it, of course, this is possibly why I never went into finance.)
     But, being a man of good humor (as well as infinite patience), my grandfather let this moment pass, smiling briefly, then silently continuing to drop his seeds in carefully delineated rows, at perfectly prescribed distances apart. For the record, both carrot patches grew and produced equally well. I have to admit, though, that it pained me to "thin" perfectly healthy little seedlings, so the others would have the space to grow, but I since learned this is necessary for a successful crop.
       Years later, when I first planted my own garden, I found myself recalling (and often following) my grandfather's gardening advice. Of course, it didn't hurt that he lived well into my adulthood, and this subject was often the topic of the letters we exchanged long after he had abandoned his garden plot for the confines of a retirement home. Nonetheless, his memory of the years spent tilling the soil, and all he had learned in the process never left him, and he happily continued to share them with me, even though I was new at the task.
      And how did my gardens grow, you may ask? Certainly not with silver bells...albeit once I moved to Cape Cod there were some cockle (aka scallop) shells all in a (somewhat crooked) row. This is to say, that there were, of course, some successes and some failures; plants I labored over or gently nurtured for weeks simply shriveling up and dying for no good reason, while others, accidentally ignored, grew huge and sturdy all on their own. Then there were the vegetables: the ones I wanted most to eat like beets or broccoli or corn yielded little or no produce, while the zucchini, eggplant, and rhubarb became obscenely huge, eventually dominating and ruling the entire garden.
    Usually, by mid-July I had spent considerable time planting and replanting, as well as thinning, trimming, and feeding, until it got to the point where there was nothing more I could do with the results but simply accept and enjoy the gardens as the best they could be for now. I could always improve them the next year, I told myself, after they had a chance to sit idle and perhaps develop more on their own.
    I do have to admit that a lot of the pleasure I derive from my gardening projects comes when visitors wander the flower and vegetable patches and compliment me on my efforts. On the other hand, it can also be discouraging when friends or family members, many of whom have never grown any sort of garden themselves, offer unsolicited advice on what I might possibly be doing wrong. Worse yet, are those who spend entire afternoons in our yard and never even glance at, much less admire, the fruits of my labor, especially when they frequently claim to be great lovers of gardens in general.
     But here's what keeps me coming back to my gardens every year: one early fall day, right before I left for college, I went over to say good-bye to my grandparents. Finding the house deserted, I wandered out into the backyard where I found them sitting next to my grandfather's garden in identical lawn chairs, their hands clasped in the space between them.
     "Hey!" I called as I approached where they sat, "what are you doing?"
     They both turned, looked over their shoulders, and smiled happily.
     "We're just admiring the garden!" My grandfather declared cheerfully. "I think it looks better than ever this year, don't you?"
     Of course, at that moment to me, my mind totally on the excitement of college and the great beyond, my grandparents' garden looked much the same as it always had...colorful, cheerful, healthy, and hearty, but still much the same. But, not wanting to disappoint my grandfather, I quickly agreed.
    "It's absolutely beautiful!" I announced as I grabbed an empty chair loitering on the lawn nearby, and sat down beside them. We stayed there like that for some time, gazing out at the flowery abundance before us in companionable silence.
     "This is what makes it all worth it," my grandfather said at last, as he and my grandmother stood and began folding their lawn chairs, "all the planting and weeding and thinning and so forth."
     "You mean so you can have a showcase garden everyone will see and admire," I replied, folding my chair as well, and following them back toward the house.
    My grandfather stopped and turned to look at me in surprise.
    "Everyone?" he said looking confused. Then putting his arm around me in the way he always did when about to impart a piece of his legendary wisdom, he said, "I don't work hard to make this garden beautiful for everyone else, I do it because I love doing it, and if I create something that someone else enjoys as well, then that's simply a bonus."
     It's been over 40 years since my grandfather died, and even though he lived to meet my children, see me graduate from college and begin a teaching career, regretfully he was gone before I started to write. Still, I have never forgotten this piece of sage advice, as it has come in handy on many occasions...and not just when it comes to gardening...

A Cat's Eye View

      "It's easy," I told Izzi the day before we left on our trip to Charleston. "All you have to do is write about writing. Whatever comes to mind. You've watched me do this plenty of times. PJ could even help you!"
      Izzi and PJ are my cats. And before you think I'm completely crazy assigning a blog entry to two furry companions whose main purpose in life is to sleep, eat, unroll toilet paper, and shove the wind-up mouse under the refrigerator, crying plaintively until we pull the appliance out to retrieve it, you should know they have had a certain amount of experience at the writing game. Of course for them, this basically involves lying on either side of me on the big red couch in my living room (my favorite spot to write) and periodically flick their tails across my laptop keyboard.
      While this activity, in itself, has provided an effective excuse for the various typos in my work, I do think Izzi might have other observations to make and advice to offer, given the opportunity. Also, not that this especially surprised me, given the way my writing career has been going, but just as I was ready to go away and thus neglect this blog for the next two weeks, my "readership" quadrupled after the last entry. Kind of like not being able to fill the bird feeder after dozens of avian breeds suddenly started flocking to the little perches...just to suggest a comparable feline analogy.
     Anyhow, here are some of the thoughts on writing that Izzi (with PJ's help) was able to come up with while we were gone. (I corrected her spelling and grammar a bit, but otherwise these are her original ideas.)

10 Helpful Tips on Writing by Izzi Johnson
      1. Choose the time of day for writing carefully. The sun generally shines on the right end of the red couch around 3 in the afternoon, which makes it the best time to sit there. It might also warm the other end of the couch in the morning, but this is when I have to be in the family room watching CNN on Daryl's lap.
     2. Never try to write on an empty stomach. I always make a point of stopping by the food bowl before settling down on the red couch. This allows for at least an hour of solid writing time before I have to hit the food bowl again.
     3. Allow yourself to be distracted regularly in order to inspire creativity. Some of my favorite choices for this include: abruptly running up the stairs for no particular reason and scratching furiously on the guest room door even though no one is inside; casually wandering into the kitchen and opening all the cupboards and drawers (pulling out a few dishtowels and knocking over the recycling is also helpful); and finally, PJ's personal favorite, decide you want to sleep on the end of the couch where the other cat already is, and then both climb back and forth across Erni and her laptop until she finally gives up and starts petting you instead of typing.
     4. Always read all writing out loud when editing. While this probably makes no difference in its ultimate quality, it has a decidedly soporific effect on your companions. (I have no idea what that word means, but PJ found it in the thesaurus, which she says is also a necessary writing tool).
     5. Learn where the delete button is on the keyboard and be able to find it easily and casually without even looking. Although hitting this button does cause some temporary noise and distress, it forces one to rewrite, and thus sit on the red couch longer than originally planned.
     6. Be sure and keep plenty of liquids handy while writing. While I have tried that wine stuff Erni leaves on the coffee table sometimes, I personally prefer water...in a glass, not a bottle (see #3 "distractions" above for further explanation).
     7. Never decide before you start writing how long the finished product will be (such as a list of 10 Helpful Tips). When you run out of things to say it can be stressful and make it hard to nap.
The End
     Okay, so maybe next time I go on vacation, I should take my laptop along with me...