Sweetpea’s Garden

How busy have I been at work the last two days? So, so busy that I wrote this post on my way to work yesterday, but didn’t even have the chance to paste it into the blog software.

Sigh.

So, anyway, the “last night” referenced is actually Wednesday, not that it’s all that relevant to the story.

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Last night I went to the kickoff ceremony for the creation of a neighborhood garden/park that’s being built practically in my backyard. It’s being built on a vacant lot owned by the city adjacent to the Kentucky Courts housing project.

The cool thing about it is that it’s entirely the result of local activism. Some folks in the ‘hood decided a community garden would be a better than an asphalt square with a dumpster (uh, yeah) and started petitioning the city. I have to admit, I was skeptical when I initially heard the plan; I’ve lived in DC long enough to doubt that the city would give away land when it is at such a premium. But I was proven wrong last night, when our council member, the mayor, and the heads of the agencies who will own and manage the land all showed up at the event and gave speeches enthusiastically endorsing the project. I was especially happy to hear from the head of the residents’ board at Kentucky Courts about how excited they are for the garden — I was a little worried it might come off a bit like a gentrification move.

I volunteered to join the neighborhood steering committee for the project while I was there. While I did it partially because it just seems like a good thing to be involved with, I also have the selfish motivation of really, really wanting a plot in the garden, come spring. And if I have to go to some meetings and plant some trees to get it, so be it.

(The photo, by the way, is of the garden site, taken from the stairs to my back porch. It’s that close!)

That was me, this afternoon, as I spent more than three hours in the blazing heat salvaging what remained of my garden, and getting rid of what hadn’t survived a summer of lackadaisical (at best) attention. Everything this year went in one of two directions — abundance or death — and nothing in between.

Unsurprisingly, my tomatoes never recovered from the chomping they received from squirrels, and joining them in the “dead” column are the impatiens, which succumbed to something I suspect was root rot, and the petunias, which grew too leggy to be pretty and were summarily allowed to dry up. On the flip side, my herbs grew insanely well; the mint, thyme, and oregano were all large enough to be transplanted into window boxes, I harvested enough cayenne peppers to melt my head, and then there is the basil. I planted four different varieties this year, and they have taken over nearly half the porch. Next weekend will be spent in the kitchen with the food processor, making up massive quantities of pesto. (The new header photo, incidentally, is of two of the types of basil, purple and sweet.)

The ficus Eileen left with me when she moved to Texas has been thriving as well and was rewarded with a bigger pot, as was my sad little Norfolk pine, which looks as if it may live to see another year as my Christmas tree after all, though it will need a Charlie Brown-like miracle to look anything other than pathetic. I settled some new petunias into the hanging basket and potted several indoor plants I’ve been rooting, in addition to everything else, so it was a long and tiring process.

Did I mention it was about 90 degrees on my porch? I was a disgusting, sweaty, dirt-covered mess by the time I was done. But the garden looks so much better now, so it was worth the effort. I just can’t let it go that badly again…

It’s bad enough that squirrels have been eating my tomatoes just as they ripen, but when they leave behind the skins just to mock me, it’s too much. This is war.

Added Tuesday evening:

I should have updated this as soon as I got to work, but I didn’t get a chance….

I left the apartment a few minutes after writing this post, and guess what was on the sidewalk about 100 feet past my building? A dead squirrel, which is not something I ordinarily see on the sidewalk. And because I wasn’t feeling any compassion towards the creatures this morning, all I could think was, “I hope that’s the fucker that’s been eating my tomatoes.”