Almost again.

I almost forgot to water the seedlings. Again. There are spikes in the neediness of work. A flux in the hours I spend around people, in front of a screen, or rarely anymore – scribbling notes to myself on paper in a hand few can decipher. This past week has been one such spike. Three weeks prior, I downloaded an app to my phone that tracks usage. It was part of a social experiment called Bored and Brilliant. I’m not sure how much I contributed to their experiment, but I do know that simply downloading the app has made me more aware of time spent diddling on my phone instead of doing things I, you know, actually want to be doing.

Let’s just say that there’s a little monk that provides encouragement and feedback, and last week he had tears running down his face while he begged me to put my phone down. But such is work sometimes. (Othertimes he smiles, hugs himself, and let’s me know he appreciates my taking it easy.)

So among all the monk feedback and work madness, I nearly forgot to water the seedlings. Again. But they were still moist, and were ready for the light to inch up slightly higher, and had more friends in the neighboring plugs. The aspects of gardening I find most successful in the days since becoming a mother are those that succeed under a “set it and forget it” plan of action. I’ve begun building a compost pile (as opposed to feeding the spinning barrel composter DH gave me as a gift years back) and building it smack dab where I want a perennial bed. Why not? If I can get it to cook where I want to serve it (so to speak) I won’t have to find the time to shovel and haul and spread it.

I did manage to pull and burn more grass weekend before last, which was satisfying. Anytime the world feels off-kilter, I know that I either need sweat running over a pounding heart or dirt cramming under the nails of fingers building calloused skin. Or a nap. Occasionally all it takes is a nap to set the world right again.

So I continue to marvel in the child who grows like a loved upon weed and allow the new beds I wish to build, the grass I wish to pull, and the plants I wish to invite into my space…to wait.

She really is growing like the most beautiful creature I could imagine. And all of my gratitude for that erases any itch I can’t scratch in the time I do muster together to work on calluses or dirty up my nails.

So instead of any pictures from recent days let’s take a peek at Februaries past…

2012 –




22 comments on “Almost again.

  1. Shannon says:

    “Anytime the world feels off-kilter, I know that I either need sweat running over a pounding heart or dirt cramming under the nails of fingers building calloused skin. Or a nap.” Hear, hear, Lady!!

    Looking good! I’m long overdue for a garden post. Not much going on here except for cutting the Swiss chard, garlic chive, onion chives, and parsley regularly. It’s all that’s growing at the moment.

    Alas, the bees don’t appear to be arriving yet. I have another crop of stone fruit (peaches, plum) blossoms that may not fruit without them. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ Time to look into attracting a feral hive to the property…

  2. Kevin says:

    Loved this post. I also find that when I’m the most stressed, the solution is to get down and dirty — to dig or weed. For the record, I think I need a weeping monk in my life. ๐Ÿ™‚

    • plumdirt says:

      Just downloading the app has done so much for me. I was listening to a piece on the radio about a local neighborhood where the homes have a screen that visualizes electricity use in real time. They can see the immediate impact of their actions (long showers, leaving the TV on, etc.) It’s amazing to me how simple of a concept a visual immediate feedback model is, no matter the subject matter, and how effective it alone is at reshaping human behavior. (As I reply via my phone… ๐Ÿ˜‰ )

  3. Gosh – I so know what you mean. I was a terrible procrastinator before I got a fancy phone that could do things! Now I have to give myself stern talking to’s to put the phone down and do what needs to be done. Once I’m in the garden I soon forget I even have a phone and forget where I’ve left it! I’m sure you will have a fabulous spring. Cheers Sarah : o )

  4. I love turning off my phone to ignore all the white noise, leaving stacks of papers to be graded in my tote bag, and heading out into the garden. Nurturing our souls cannot wait.

  5. Robbie says:

    I agree-compost where you need it! I am with you on that goal. I have a winter compost that I build towards the end of the growing season. I let it build all winter + when spring comes, I spread it where it lays. My father taught me to “trench compost” and this year I will be mixing and composting where ever it is needed:-)
    Sounds like a plan we all can manage! I don’t have the space for those big systems, I just move it where the soil needs it most:-)
    I can’t tell you how many times, I forget to water the seedlings. It happens to all of us. I feel badly when I forget!
    I don’t know how to do it with a baby, I remember those days + I hardly had time to think!

    • plumdirt says:

      Maybe that’s the key – I don’t take time to think! I see the light glowing under the door (the grow lamp is on a timer) and if I remember that the light is for plants whose water isn’t on a timer, I’ll think “I should water those in the morning…” and then days have passed. Perhaps I should just ignore the thinking that watering at night is bad and water when I see the light.
      I like trench composting! It feels like I’m literally feeding the earth.

  6. Robbie says:

    I did not grow seedlings when I had my first baby:-) Then the others came + I did not have time to grow anything from seed. I use to throw a lot of seed!

  7. Love your compost pile idea! Hmmmm…another project when all this snow melts perhaps!!


    I wasn’t sure how to let you know, but I linked your site in this post, I love your blog!

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