Monday, February 28, 2011

growing some green.

I'm going to be a real-life gardener!!!!!!!
Having a a garden to tend to is on the life-goal list. However, since I'm kind of a vagabond and always on the run renting, I've never felt compelled to sink a bunch of money into a garden that in three or four or six months I'll be leaving, forever. 

This is kind of an unfortunate fact, since I've been semi-obsessed with plants and soil- dwelling growth-forms since I can remember.

You see, it all started because my grandparent's had this lake-cottage in northern Michigan while I was growing up and I'd spend most of my summers there. It was the best thing, ever. The place in all honesty holds about 85% of my fondest memories from not just childhood, but life. STILL. So anyway, without dwelling on the fact that the cottage has now been sold to a pair of annoying young-rich from Texas who don't even LIVE THERE ALL SUMMER, thus sending myself into a downward spiral of depression that would be further perpetuated by reading all my old letters from friends and lovers and listening music from my late high school/early college  Bright Eyes phase, while subsisting on nothing but Nutella and boxed wine for the next several weeks until Manfriend runs an intervention on me, I'm going to get back on track.

My grandmother, we'll call her Nan, because that's what I call her, had the most glorious of gardens at said lake-house. Talk about colorful. This woman has a true green thumb. I would follow her around, learning plant varieties and helping her weed for HOURS every day. As a semi-ADD child, this was a fairly major accomplishment. Anyway, she'd teach me things and point out new buds on plants and we'd spend a large portion of each day tooling around the garden.


So anyway, that's where my love of gardening developed, and since I'm only a quasi-adult and not a full-blown-adult, I still use my parents' address as my "permanent residence" and I rent, so gardening hasn't really been in the cards for the past seven or so years. 

BUT, I do have several plants that I've been schlepping around with me for years, the most impressive of which is named Cash, who I acquired my sophomore year in college when he was merely twelve inches in height and is now AT LEAST four feet tall. And yes, I name my plants, and I also talk to them, because they're practically pets to me. Cash is getting REAL heavy. And I have to keep putting him in bigger pots so that his roots can breathe an whatnot. It's a love-love situation. I've kept him alive for SIX YEARS.
SIX YEARS. That's three times longer than my longest relationship. Cash and I are a TEAM. We've come a long way from me forgetting to water him for days at a time then stumbling home drunk and pouring half of my before-bed beer in his pot.  I think he stayed alive then just because I was willing to share. And a 19 year-old sharing their last beer with a plant in need of hydration is nothing short of heartwarming.
There are a couple other plants too, but Cash is my finest acheivement.
ANYWAY, I've been not only ansty for Spring to get here and defeat Winter, but I've also had this compulsion to dig around in the soil and deposit some seeds lately, which is kind of a drag because my lease is up in the middle of May and Katherine is moving to South America to escape the shitty state of affairs here teach English and frolic happily for an undisclosed amount of time down south. Manfriend will also be moving relatively soon, so that location is also a bust. 

My my desire to breed new life in a location completely outside of my own body cannot be squelched. 

There's a great deal of pride for me in making something grow, giving it life.... something that ISN'T a human child. And apparently in being really creepy about it, too.

So, this weekend, Manfriend purchased me a mini-greenhouse.

And I almost lost my shit right there, because WOAHHHH.
I'm now the owner of a mini-greenhouse!

This is going to be AWESOME, look at all those spout growing-holes.  

I plan on growing vegetables, so I can feel like I'm 'living off the land' and whatnot. 

I have no idea how long it's going to be before I need to start transplanting these little suckers, but I'm really hoping I have my new living situation figured out before their roots need more space to grow and I have to transplant all of them, because if I have to re-pot all of them before I move it's going to be like 348972398473978 pots and a total pain in the ass..... if they even grow to begin with.... which they will, obviously.

After all,  Cash survived!

I'll let you know how it goes. 

XO Sare

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