>“Grows more beautiful each year” means “Looks like roadkill for the foreseeable future”
>That seems to be a common conversation I have in the garden with the boy.Ok, so it may not look like garden, but I will personally punch whomever’s lights out that dares to tell me differently.
I live in a tiny apartment in downtown Fredericton New Brunswick, and while tiny, has eight-foot ceilings and brand new hardwood floors throughout. The selling point for me however, was the balcony. It’s twice the square footage of a normal balcony in freddie, and looks out on the best traffic somedays. I’ve got no people below me, and a wall blocking one of my neighbours (the other will be covered by something I think at some point). It’s a gorgeous size, and that size includes room for not one, not two, but FIVE folding chairs and a little table, with buckets of room left for legs and whatnot. That means that there’s oodles of room for a garden!
I grew up in a family that gardens. Geraniums and cacti grew on our stereo speakers. Amaryllis here and there. A bountiful vegetable garden that spilled out onto the deck every year. The funniest part is walking around garden centers as a very small child and shocking the workers by knowing pretty much more than they knew. It extended to both my parents-parents with one side owning greenhouses and a woodland property with wild flowers and the like, and the other owning incredibly old mother plants from generations back and the kind of lawns that you’d love to roll around in (and many of us do!). So for me, it’s incredibly foreign to not grow plants. Why buy vegetables at the store when you can grow your own and have a freezer stocked till March?
This brings me back to my balcony. Within a week or so I had seeds started. Then a few pots along the railing. That’s when the neighbours took notice, and within another week or so my mother and rob had answered any and all questions regarding my green thumbs’ exploits here at balcony bay.
The morning glories and snow peas have most of my neighbours talking. At about two to three inches tall now, they can see that I don’t give up like apparently everybody else here has! The tomatoes have two little old ladies talking in particular. It’s just weird for me to not grow tomatoes every year I think, I don’t particularly like them, but I like growing them. I’ve got a strawberry plant and some smaller offshoots growing right next to the pansies and petunias that my mom had potted up for me for my return home from the hospital. As I like to pretend that I can cook, I’ve upped the pretention-factor buy growing chives, basil, oregano, mint, and parsley. Marigolds, petunias, swiss chard, geraniums, bluebells, mimosas, coleus, sunberries, gerberas, hibiscus, and medusa ornamental peppers round out a vesey seeds order I made a couple weeks ago with a prepaid mastercard giftcard I found in my wallet ha ha.
Then comes a new frontier I’ve begun to explore…sprouting. You know the little alfalfa and bean sprouts you can buy at the grocery store for like 5 bucks? I’m growing them now in a little plastic rig! It’s so cool! Every day we check on them and go all goo goo watching the little guys grow. And in a couple days we have a weeks’ worth of green to throw in sandwiches!
Yes, I’m a dork. Kind of an uber-dork. But in a few weeks I’ll have a nice shady balcony to sit on and where will you be? Hmmm? I’m thinking inside, hiding from the sun. Am I right? Maybe if you’re nice ill send you a tweet. You bring the margaritas; I’ll provide the breezy chairs!