Whew! How'd I Get Myself Into This?

Well, the question above is answered with, I said "Yes!"

The garden coordinator for Metro-Parks called me and asked me if I still wanted a garden plot - they had one available! It was just an old weedy plot, previously tended by an elderly Ukrainian who worked it to death then abandoned it.

I'd had experience with these Ukrainian gardeners, who manage to eek beets, sorrell, potatoes, onions and tomatoes out of DIRT. They somehow make things grow, mostly in miniature, and with the utmost dedication. However, since they do not have transportation, they cannot haul grass clippings, autumn leaves, or any other type of soil amendment to their plots. So, the soil gives out after awhile, with the plants just barely being sustained. This is the plot being offered to me, something that looks beyond any kind of repair. Dusty, pebbly, full of crabgrass, shallow....like a gravel pit.

When I greeted some of the other gardeners at Franklin Park Community Garden, they all looked in dismay and said, "You've got your hands full with THAT plot", and I just nodded an abysmal agreement. While they planted their corn sets, and watered their seedlings, digging in the most wonderful rich soil, I headed over toward the gravel pit. There was no moisture in the soil. It was just dust. No worms. No organic material. Just a few bold weeds, which I figure had every right to be there if they actually could grow. Oh, and crab-grass, tons of it, which had to be pulled.

George helped me dig trenches, then pile the dirt up onto berms. We pulled out all the crab-grass and then I worked in sphagnum moss and chicken manure. I lined the walking paths, the trenches, with straw, then covered that with grass clippings. Looking at my plot now, it has five large growing berms surrounded by trench-filled organic matter. Over the summer I'll add more weeds, grass, leaves - anything I can scrounge to put into these trenches, composting it. By late summer it should be available to work into the soil to provide nutrients when the plants (I hope) are larger and need more nutrients.

It took three days just to prepare the growing berms, to lay out the trenches and to fill them. I took a serrated knife yesterday and spent four hours cutting grass from a nearby 'bog', an area of the garden that cannot be used because it is too wet. It will provide green organic material. I'll also use it to camouflage anything that is growing, as the crows here pull up anything that looks tasty. When we are on our week's vacation I plan to mulch everything with sphagnum moss, to hold in the moisture while I'm gone.

It has been over 10 years since I worked in a Community Garden, and I've forgotten just how enjoyable it is gardening with other people. Some of the gardeners are with the Master's Gardener Program associated with the University of Washington. They are experimenting with straw bales, similar to what I've done, only theirs will not be torn apart. I find that straw bales and grass provide excellent insulation near a growing bed; they hold the berm upright, and hold moisture in. I've always had raised berms. They keep my root crops out of the water when spring rains are excessive, and I can flood them in the late summer to make a rich organic soup that is absorbed from the bottom up. That ultimately cuts down on the need to water everyday when it is hot.
The Franklin Park Community Garden Plots are about five blocks from my house, so it is a 2-minute drive. In addition to gardening, there are large open fields available for sports. There are tennis courts, picnic tables and restrooms, and bike and walking trails. During recess at the nearby Life Christian Center the kids come out to play, and I've enjoyed listening to them while I work. An old-folks home, an Assisted Living Building and an Independent Living Complex border the gardens, so we have many of the elderly sitting at their windows, watching us garden. They wave, come by to visit, or take their walks along the sidewalk that circles the Community Garden. There is this wonderful feeling of being connected to all segments of humanity - children, youth, families, the elderly, and other gardeners. You can't beat that!

One of the elderly gentlemen living at the Retirement Home came by and told me not to be discouraged by the poor soil. He said roots love pebbles and rocks. Just add a little stuff to puff it up. So, I did, and I hope it all works out. He also said that it is not only plants that grow in a garden. He said I will too, as I learn what works, or doesn't.

I love the sounds of the birds - we've got a pair of nesting Killdear nearby and many other birds in the trees and up on the hill. Just a delightful environment, peaceful just like a park should be. As I work the dirt, I hope by summer I'll have prepared viable soil, with worms, able to sustain my tomatoes. Meantime, anything I plant will have to have a shovelful of my own backyard soil to get it started. That means I'll be hauling bucket-fulls. Sounds labor-intensive, and it is. My hands are full of bandages (I always seem to remove my gloves so I can feel the dirt) and I ache all over, but it sure feels good.

George bought me a little tool-box wagon that I can use to hold some of my gear; it's got storage for all my water bottles, my hand tools and seed-packets. There is a cover that provides a nice place to sit, and a holder for my coffee cup. It's a cute little thing, and a nice gesture from George. I do have to laugh though, because on this plot I do not foresee any 'sit down time'.