Avant Gardener

Listen while you read: Avant Gardener

I sleep in late, another day
Oh, what a wonder, oh, what a waste
It's a Monday, it's so mundane
What exciting things will happen today?

The yard is full of hard rubbish, it's a mess and
I guess the neighbors must think we run a meth lab
We should amend that, I pull the sheets back
It's 40 degrees and I feel like I'm dying

Life's getting hard in here, so I do some gardening
Anything to take my mind away from where it's supposed to be
The nice lady next door talks of green beds
And all the nice things she wants to plant in them

I wanna grow tomatoes on the front steps
Sunflowers, bean sprouts, sweet corn and radishes
I feel proactive, I pull out weeds
All of a sudden

I'm having trouble breathing in . . . 

~ Courtney Barnett

Coming back to my New Jersey home last weekend filled me with mixed emotion. While it was wonderful to be "home" again, there were some not-so-wonderful issues, like the destruction that the groundhogs wreaked while digging out the foundation of my two gardening sheds. And then there were the weeds. Overwhelming. And the emergence of poison ivy in places that I thought were safe! I admit to being overwhelmed by all the work that lies ahead. My mantra: weed by weed, weed by weed, weed by weed.

Courtney Barnett is a hoot. "Avant Gardener" appears on an EP from 2013, A Sea of Split Peas. Based on a true experience, Barnett had this to say about the song: "Aw, it's a stupid song. It's so long and has no chorus and it's not catchy, you know?" Nonetheless, it caught my attention; how could it not?

This past weekend, I visited my friend Jeffrey at his organic nursery, Wild Yarrow, in upstate New York. Jeffrey has 100 different varieties of heirloom tomato plants! While I only purchased 20 of them, I am excited about how they will evolve this summer. I also purchased eggplants, peppers, broccoli, cauliflower, basil, Swiss chard, lovage, and I-don't-even-remember-what-else. By the time you read this, I will have planted all my purchases, along with lettuces, peas, and beans from seeds. God willing and the creek don't rise, I will not suffer from wasp stings or poison ivy rashes or bad encounters with evil woodchucks.

I proudly claim status as a half-assed gardener. I know a thing or two, but there's way more that I don't know. Not all my crops are successful. There are many times when I think that Mother Nature has targeted me for challenges. Grubs, Japanese Beetles, Tomato Hornworms, Late Blight . . . her army is vast and varied. But for every crop that fails, there's one that succeeds, and I will content myself with the sustenance I can derive from the successes.