The Color of Happiness

I threw open my curtains this morning and was greeted with this beautiful sight. All the rain we had a few weeks ago, followed by cool nights and warm, sun-filled days had produced a lush pallet of greens for as far as the eye can see. The hues ranged from crisp green lawns, to the grey-blue spikes of a pine tree, to the variegated leaves on the various trees and shrubs in front of the houses up and down the block. I knew that I had to get out there and take it all in up-close and personal!

If someone were to ask me what color I associated with the word happy I would have to say green. Green reminds me of spring, and summer, and gardening, and all the things in nature that I love. It reminds me of picking fresh herbs from the pots on my windowsill when I'm cooking and how good that smells. It reminds me of walking barefoot in the grass. It reminds me of happy times digging in my garden and watching the bunny family out for a stroll and searching for breakfast. It just makes me smile.

Walking down the block there were people out cutting their lawns or doing other yard work. One young couple were actually chopping wood in the side yard for their fire pit. Another older couple were admiring the new fronts steps that were going in and wondering if they were going to like the railings they picked out. Stopping to chat with them for a minute (safe distance, of course), we came to the conclusion that change wasn't always a bad thing. Look at what it has done to the neighborhood, the lady said. Most of the neighbors were always friendly, but lately we're all outside sprucing up our homes and yards and calling to each other as if we were long lost friends that hadn't seen each other in ages. Maybe we are. All I can say is that all that green is making us all a lot happier these days.

As for my own little garden:

My herbs are doing very nicely and my Cabbage Patch garden fairy (her name is Rose) assures me that all is ready for picking! How happy can a girl get?

And so it is. 

Mother Knows Best

The other day I was day dreaming out of the window over my desk. It was a rainy and very damp day and I was sipping a hot cup of my favorite turmeric and ginger tea. The dampness was aggravating my arthritis and sciatica and this herbal blend always helped to ease the inflammation in my joints. As I felt the warmth start to work it's magic, I was struck by this thought: Not only is Mother Nature our #1 food provider, she is also the very first doctor - Mother Nature, MD!"

Everyone I know has an old, homemade remedy for what ails us, be it a cold, sore joints, a sore throat, or a banged-up knee. It's the one that's been passed down from grandmother, to mother, to child back to the beginning of time. Growing up the one I remember most is a concoction of honey, lemon, and a teaspoon of whisky for a cough. I've often wondered how these remedies originated. My research told me that every country around the world had indigenous people who passed their natural healing knowledge to those that came after. In our own country, the Europeans who migrated here got much of this knowledge that made use of local, native plants from the First Nations people they met. Years ago when I asked a Native American woman I met at a pow wow about where their people learned how to use herbs for healing, she said, "we watched the animals." For some reason, most animals in the wild knew which plants were beneficial and which weren't. I guess survival of the fittest included learning what not to eat which we humans could certainly do a better job of!

These days I've been giving more of my attention to herbal and natural choices when it comes to healing. Especially after my hip surgery and the long and sometimes painful recovery process, I've come to realize that I let myself fall into that "pop a pill" mindset whenever I'm in pain or discomfort. So I've decided to try and wean myself off the man-made stuff and increase the naturally made alternatives. I truly believe that our overuse of antibiotics for every little thing has made this pandemic and other illnesses possible to thrive. Did indigenous people have cancer, high blood pressure, diabetes, and the flu? Not until Europeans brought it to them. So if our tolerance for pharmaceuticals is so high that they no longer work, might it not be time to give natural remedies a chance? I'm willing to bet that we'd be surprised at the positive outcomes we'd get.

So I'll keep drinking my herbal teas, and eating organic, and get more exercise, and if I pop anything in my mouth it will be some nice, dark blueberries which I'm told have all kinds of healing properties. What's the worst that could happen? I might just get healthy!

And so it is. 

Faith In A Seed

"Though I do not believe a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders."

Henry David Thoreau

It has taken the better part of a month, but my own faith in a seed has begun to pay off. While I have also added a few already grown seedlings, the rest are starting to emerge. There are still some that are having a hard time of it but I am holding fast to my belief that with the right amount of love and attention they will make it:

Today more than ever it's hard to have faith in anything.  I know that I have given up looking at the news more than once a day and then only in small bites by scrolling through the local news on my phone. The one thing I can count on, that I have complete faith in, is that when I wake up every day the sun will shine (even if it's hiding behind rain clouds), the seasons will change, the trees and plants will grow, and die, and grow again, and the natural world will go on. 

Sometimes having faith in a seed also extends to the seeds we plant withing ourselves. If we plant seeds of fear, hate, and greed, what grows will be ugly and certainly not fit to consume. If we plant seeds of love, compassion, and community, what we get can feed the world. It can certainly feed our souls.

So I will continue to have faith in a seed. I will water it, love it, and give it my best. I have no doubt that it will feed both my body and my soul. That's something I can have count on.

And so it is. 

If At First You Succeed ....

"Gardening is full of mistakes, almost all of them pleasant and some of them actually instructive."

Henry Mitchel, "One Man's Garden."

It's been over two weeks now and the only success I've had with my tiny table garden have been a very few tiny shoots of the chamomile seeds that I sowed ... and my carrot top which is sending out lovely little fern-like foliage. Everything else is a non-starter, including the avocado pit (I suspect they make them like that on purpose but I'm not assigning blame here). So this weekend I loosened the soil, condensed my little pots, and tried again. This time I covered them with see through plastic coverings to create a mini hothouse effect that, hopefully, will help the seeds to germinate better. Before this last week it's been so cold and windy outside that even with heat on and the grow light going, my apartment felt more like February than May - we even had snow for Mother's Day! It's been much warmer this past week so I hope that the better weather, and my few adjustments, will make a difference. If not, Memorial Day Weekend will find me at a nursery picking out already started herb plants. While I am ok with the concept of "try, try again," I'm not a gardening masochist - if seeds don't work, try plants!

It seems that this lesson was something I really needed to download this week. Another example was brought to me by a very tenacious male bird from next door. There is a flock of grackles that have taken up residence in the former home of my sweet little squirrels who were terrorized and driven off by this bunch of angry birds. Nest building has been going on rabidly at various locations under the roof line next door as if they were contestants for The Big Race. The reality is that mating season is in full bloom over there and nests will be needed post haste! One young male bird is probably the most dedicated example of "try, try again" that I have ever seen. Every morning he is out there on his favorite perch on the side arch of the building, waving his wings, shaking his tail, and singing his heart out. Occasionally a young lady will sit down next to him and, throwing introductions to the wind, he takes care of business in a matter of seconds, flying off and leaving the stunned young lady wondering if it was something she said? In minutes, our Romeo is back and singing his heart out again. Some ladies catch on to his lack of education in the ways of women and take off as soon as he makes a move, but that does not deter our guy. I have seen him sit out there all day, morning to night, rain or sunshine, singing and waving. What he lacks in technique he more than makes up in staying power. You have to admire him for that.

Try, try again. Nature gives us all kinds of examples, doesn't She? A tulip that dies back when Spring is over and Summer moves in comes back next Spring to delight us again. Autumn may take the leaves off the trees but come Spring the green is back. We suffer a loss but somehow, in the midst of it, we wake up one day and find a new reason to smile. Try, try again. Keep trying, folks. It will all make sense in the end.

And so it is. 

Ready, Set, Go!

And so it begins! I started my seeds yesterday. I also added a basil plant that I picked up at the Healthfood Store the other day because I knew that it was organically grown, and because my own basil seeds haven't arrived yet. I was able to get three little plants out of it in addition to already harvesting some of the bigger leaves to share with my BFF who loves cooking with fresh basil as much as I do. So far I have mint, chammomile, lavender, and lemon balm (the parsley is coming with the basil - can't be a proper Italian cook without parsley AND basil).

You may notice that there are a few strange looking things that are not seeds. My avocado pit is starting to show signs of splitting, something that all the plant websites assured me was normal and a sign that the roots and shoots would be forthcoming. I also clipped off the top of a carrot and put it in water. It is already starting to sprout. I don't expect to grow carrots in a pot but I've always loved their leafy tops simply as decoration. Sometimes looking around at what you have on hand and thinking outside the box can produce some really creative ideas.

Life is alot like that, too. Especially during these times of change and upheavel where we find ourselves living our lives from a whole new place of understanding. How many of us have been looking around our homes asking ourselves: "What can I make for dinner with what I have in the house," or, "What can I do to get my mind and attention off the constant bombardment of news and fear?" How many of us are finding that getting out even if it's just a walk around the block is clearing our minds just as the newer, clearner, less polluted air is cleaning our planet without all those fossil fuels we would normally be pouring into it every day? More often than not, when we challenge ourselves to look at our lives, and our world, from a different mind-set, we can create the most amazing things. I'll  never grow tired of my sharing my very favorite Wayne Dyer quote:

"When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change."

Kind of makes you look at a carrot in a whole new light!

And so it is. 

Gathering The Essentials

There is an old Greek saying that goes: “Bean by bean the bag gets full.” This is what I tell myself as I pull together the things I need to start my tiny indoor garden. This last week the starter potting soil arrived as did some more seeds. The grow light is here, and I have even started to look around my home for other things that I can use like the avocado pit now sitting in the glass of water, or cuttings from veggies (I don’t expect to grow carrots in a pot on the table, but the green tops would be nice).  It’s kind of like thinking outside the box that says “gardening do’s and don’ts.” As my new favorite gardening hero, Monty Don, always says: “Don’t be afraid to break the rules when it comes to gardening.” I still have to wait another week or two before I actually start the seedlings until our MIA spring weather finally comes to stay instead of just paying a visit, bringing the temperatures and light that will help even indoor seeds to get a better start in life. As my mom used to say: “all good things come to those who wait.”

Keeping my focus on this project has helped me see things from a whole different perspective. It’s taken me away from the endless grim reports and finger pointing of TV and online news and shifted my mind to making things grow. Not just looking for innovative and creative ways to grow things in a tiny space with very low lighting, but using the same mindset to create how I want to spend the rest of my time outside of gardening.? How do I want to grow the way I live, the way I interact with the world and the people in it, and how can I plant seeds of community involvement, support and change? How can I make a difference with the way I spend my money, use energy, live more sustainably? And what essential things and people do I need to gather to me to make that all happen?

If there is one thing I’ve taken away from all of the successes and failures of learning to garden over the years it is that sometimes the tiniest seed will yield the biggest return. It only takes one that has the strength and courage to push through the soil into the light of day.

And so it is.

In The Beginning ...

Welcome to the beginning of my tiny indoor garden. It doesn't look like much at the moment. I spent most of the other day moving tables around to capture what little light I do get from morning until mid-afternoon when the sun moves to my side of the building. The table is facing the southwest so let's hope it gets the best of what that exposure can give it. The bamboo still has to be moved around to find the perfect position and the decorative items I have sitting there now just for show will also be moved with pots taking their place (Buddha and the Cabbage Patch garden fairy will be close by to keep an eyes on things, have no fear). I also have a grow light on its way from Amazon which should be here this week as will my seeds and a bag of organic potting soil. The seeds I ordered are all herbs including basil. parsley, lavender, lemon balm, mint, and chamomile.

Side note: When I ordered my garden items from Amazon, the original delivery estimate was anywhere from three weeks to a month - even as late as June 2. Within 30 minutes of placing my order, I received an email stating that my delivery dates have been moved up and all of my items, seeds and soil, will be here this week. Obviously lots of people are deciding to grow gardens to provide food for their tables during this unstable time and Amazon has made them essential items. Lucky me!

An important lesson I hope to learn from starting this project is to become more patient and to live in the present moment; in a word, more mindful. I have to be patient when the seeds and soil arrive and not rush to start them without carefully reading the growing needs of each type and making the necessary adjustments. Our seemingly endless grey, cold, rainy days are not conducive to growing indoors by the windows just yet regardless of whether I have a grow light or not. I have learned the hard way from years of staring seedlings indoors that Mother Nature dictates when it's time, not we humans. Margaret Roach, in her book "Backyard Parables" says: Nature is no fool, nor does she suffer them;" Years of gardening successes as well as failures will tell me the perfect day to start them for maximum chance of survival. Beyond that, I want to be able to enjoy each and every moment, from the first seed that goes into the soil, to the daily watering and spritzing, to cheering on the first shoots, and everything in-between until I pick my first leaves. I want to experience each moment, live in each moment, and remember that all things worth waiting for take time and lots of love.

I know this tiny venture will not replace the joy I've received over the years in a huge garden of my own, or even my surprisingly successful container garden of a few years past, but it will help me to keep my focus on what is possible, not on what is happening now, and the fear that comes with it. I can stay informed and up-to-date on what I need to know, but when I need signs of new life and hope for tomorrow, there is no better way than to plant a garden however small. Even a pot of chives on the window sill is a sign that, eventually, nature wins. 

And so it is.