Adventures in Community Gardening: Last day in May, first week in June

More than three weeks after I had seeded two of my beds, I decided to remove the floating row cover that had been protectively shielding the seedlings from the threats of the flying world.

A chaotic mess awaited me.  Yes, some of my seeds had sprouted, but only the beans had advanced beyond the two-leaf stage. The weeds, however, were making inroads into both beds. Looking at both weed-covered beds, I felt defeated and blue. Why hadn't they made more progress? Sure, it had been cold. Sure they only had three weeks. But I expect more from my garden. And I was disappointed.

While I fussed and moaned, my mom, who reluctantly agreed to watch me weed, eavesdropped on my neighbors, including the one who said she'd have a job if only she could focus for more than a few hours a day. She wasn't focusing, as I would have expected. She was chatting, hands on hips, talking about astrology, to another neighbor whose hose I have borrowed when he wasn't around.

"She doesn't get much done, done she?" said mom.
"Nope. That's why she doesn't work."

I could hear their conversation continue.

"I'm trying to figure out which way is West" she said, ignoring the sun setting on...the west. "I have this compass, but it says north is this way (she points north) but that doesn't seem right. I have seem to have some kind of weird magnetic force in my hands."

"Yes," our other neighbor acknowledged. "Having a compass doesn't always work."

In the middle of my somewhat elusive seedling bed, I started digging holes. For tomatoes. For more tomatoes. For the most healthy, robust tomatoes. I think I have at least 15 varieties right now. And though the plants look somewhat bizarre poking out of the trenches of two mostly plantl-free beds, they will, in two months time, be somewhat more impressive. I hope.

Two days later I was back in the garden. It was 7 pm and there were only a few cars in the lot. I imagined quietly working my patch while the sun set behind me. I brought my dog with me and closed the garden 'door' behind us so she wouldn't wander or chase the garden pests. The last thing I wanted was a tersely worded note of reprobation from the garden committee. I kneeled down to pull weeds out of the beds and Lula, my dog, began barking wildly. I looked up. It was my next (garden) door neighbor.

I haven't told you about my next door neighbor. She's done the unthinkable. She's planted sunflowers next to my patch, a practice expressly forbidden by the garden elders. Planting sunflowers, which routinely grow over 5 feet tall, is allowed only in the center of gardens, where the only sun they'll block is your own. At the sides, they have the unfortunate effect of blotting out your neighbor's sun.

I first noticed this last week a few days after the offenders were planted. I read the seed packets - I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt that perhaps she had planted dwarf plants. Nope. They were full sized. I fumed and plotted. What would I do? Her plants were planted, so I thought, directly west of my garden in a spot ideally suited to stunting the growth of my tomatoes.

I'd talk to her. Yes, that's what I'd do.

So there she was, my next door neighbor. But she didn't say hi. She said something to my dog and walked on. And then her kids and her wife appeared. And then the yelling began. "BRANDON, GET YOUR HANDS OUT OF THE DIRT! IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR HANDS OUT OF THE DIRT, I'M GONNA LOSE IT!" Followed by, "IF YOU GET YOUR CLOTHES WET YOU ARE GONNA HAVE TO WEAR THEM THE REST OF THE NIGHT."

Her kid was doing as kids will do: he was making mud pies and putting his hands in the sprinkler. In the garden. And she was screaming at him. And didn't care that now, at 7:15 pm, she was surrounded by gardeners, cringing at every irrational word out of her mouth. A kid in dirt in a garden? Really?

I decided maybe it wasn't so smart to try and talk with her. Sabotage would be my path of least resistance.

Comments

[Peter]

This is so much more interesting than a reality show.

Have you tried manure tea? I put 3" of composted manure in a 5 gal bucket, fill it with water, let it steep, and then use it as liquid fertilizer. It really gooses the growth.

[Cake and Commerce]

One year I did make 'humus tea' from alaska...and it did seem to work. I'll give your recipe a try. I have some composted manure left, I think, that would work well!