Our Arizona Victory Garden - First The Soil

We have planted a garden every year for the last 40 years. Some are good, some not so good. But this year felt different. Slightly desperate, immediate and necessary. Victory Gardens are sprouting everywhere, and many new gardeners were created around the country. So here's some of our successful fruits (and veggies) of our labors.

FIRST... THE SOIL

In January 2020, we had no idea that we would be spending so much time at home, but nature has a way of creating new destiny. So our garden became our focus for daily rituals and renewal. 

We had already decided to put in raised garden beds. We were so fortunate to be able to find some railroad ties FREE on Craigslist. It was the first week of January, so the competition was less and Paul loaded 30 ties in our pickup and the hard work began...

1. After we planned our design, Paul dug trenches and plopped the ties. He worked hard fitting them into place and leveling, and then he took out all the old garden dirt (which contained lots of clay and crushed granite).

2. We were determined to build new soil with composted materials and let it "cook" during the winter months.  

3. We layered newspaper, leaves, compost, and mule manure. Watered each layer as it was placed down. Then we were blessed with regular rain and a little snow, so the materials underground were able to decompose into rich brown topsoil. We even saw heat coming from one bed!

 

 

A Meaningful Poem on Death

When Death Comes By Mary Oliver When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse   to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox   when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,   I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?   And therefore I look upon everything as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility,   and I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular,   and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence,   and each body a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth.   When it's over, I want to say all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.   When it's over, I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real.   I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument.   I don't want to end up simply having visited this world

Afterthoughts and Us

All of the places 

and trails,

together 

you and I.

Over the mountains and

into our deserts, then

beyond the world we know.

 

Our steps a little slower

and mine less than yours,  

remembering the places we lay

laughing at ourselves

and crying for lost moments.

 

We once took it all so casually,

now looking back, I wonder.

 

One year isolated

on our own without what?

Will it ever be normal again?

and what exactly is normal?

Who is the judge?

 

 

 

Social Distancing for Animals

If there's one thing I've noticed, it's that adult animals usually spend their days eating within their own space. Think about the cattle, horses, deer, elk, javelina, and other grazing animals - they each have their own area. 

 Any questions peeps?

" 

And so it begins...Tomatoes

Black Krim Tomato

Our first tomato plant is peeking from the soil today. Yay! We're starting these indoors under lights. This one is a black Krim heirloom tomato originating from the Isle of Krim in the Black Sea off the coast of the Crimean Peninsula. 

It's open-pollinated, indeterminate, bearing 8 ounce flattened globe fruits that are dark reddish-purple to black with green/brown shoulders. 

We haven’t grown this one in years so we’re anxious to welcome it back into our garden.

Homebound

While staying home due to the coronavirus pandemic, we've accomplished some ignored chores and tried to make the best of a horrible time for our country. I have also needed to continually "touch base" with family and friends to check on their health and well being. 

After I washed all the bedding this week (yes, with a little bleach) I decided to hang them on the line. I had forgotten how wonderful the fragrance of wind and sun-dried cotton linens can be when you crawl into bed. I'll be doing this again soon.

 

Spring Weather

The last couple of days have brought amazing storms to our area. The USFS folks I know always told me that March and October are the wettest months in Arizona and New Mexico. This is certainly holding true for 2020. 

This rainbow was overpowered by a rainstorm, giving it the appearance of a giant sundog.