gardening

Feeding Time

March 29, 2016 by admin

This is the time of year when garden tasks are more of the geeky variety. I’m testing soils and making up batches of fertilizer for each of my garden beds. Some need a lot, some just a little. It’s feeding time. It’s a time of listening…to what the garden needs, to Mother Nature’s whims of rain or sun, and to my own energy levels as I reconnect with “spring muscles.”

I didn’t always understand the importance of this time. A relatively new gardener, I wanted the showy plants but didn’t like taking the time to feed the ground.

Yet when the ground is properly fed and composted, the plants grow better, it’s easier for the beds to retain moisture in the dry season, and the food I harvest is healthier. By taking time to test the soil and give each bed the foundation it needs, I will have greater abundance in the end.

I’m taking the same approach to my writing. Today is the official release date for What She Knew (though I had to make it live sooner to do a Goodreads giveaway). For months I have worked behind the scenes, getting industry reviews, setting up advertising, etc. Soon the blog tour will begin. I didn’t do this with the last novel. Hopefully with this one I will find a way above the noise and find some readers…but in any event, I have fed the soil, and the results are starting to bear fruit.

Hyacinths: blink and you miss the flowers.

Here’s to spring and to feeding time!

The Goodreads giveaway for What She Knew goes on until April 1, so it’s not too late to sign up! Also, to celebrate the paperback release of What She Knew, I’m offering the Kindle version FREE through April 1!

Training Tomatoes — and People #selfcare #enabling

August 27, 2015 by admin

I’m a day late this week. This post didn’t come easily because I had to work through some emotions to understand what I need to say. Hopefully it’s worth the wait.

***

I’ve stopped watering the tomatoes for the year. This simple act, while making the plants look ratty, also sends the message for the remaining tomatoes to turn red. It’s a small act of tough love, if you will. Our nights are already getting cooler…I saw my breath this morning as I worked in the garden…so the plants’ lifecycles are nearing the end. In less than a week, I expect to be done with my tomato harvest, and I will have removed the black pots from the deck where they grow so as to prevent possible diseases.

Speaking of tomatoes, remember the movie Fried Green Tomatoes? It’s one of my favorites. I remember the beautiful line: “You know, Miss Ruth was a lady. And a lady always knows when to leave.” If you want to relive the tear-jerking scene, go here.

I haven’t always known when to leave. I’ve stayed in jobs and relationships longer than I should have, because I’m stubborn and assume there’s always a way through.

The problem is, when you stay longer than you should, some drama always ends up happening.

In a recent personal situation, I had become too involved in something that wasn’t my problem, and it was taking up too much of my time and energy. Since this is a small town and all, I wanted to handle it quietly, so for months I just made myself unavailable.

The individuals involved persisted. My time, my involvement, were expected — I was too accommodating for too long, so I take responsibility for teaching them that I would always have time for them.

As I grew more stressed, I pushed back pretty hard — and we ended up having a minor skirmish via e-mail.

For a few days I have pondered the emotions that have risen and what I need to understand about the situation.

And there it was: it was time to go. I needed to make it official. No finger pointing, no blame, no drama. Just a goodbye and wishing them well. It’s what I need to do to protect my time. It is time to stop watering the tomatoes of the relationship.

It took me longer than it should have, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe I needed time to be absolutely sure. Sometimes friendships go through rocky phases but come out the other side, after all.

It’s hard to watch the tomato plants droop. It’s hard to stay silent when one of my now-grown stepchildren makes a questionable choice (though less so now that I’ve learned I’m sometimes wrong!). And it’s hard to watch good people do foolish things.

Yet I have my own schedule, my own work, and my own dreams, and if I focus too much on taking care of others, I stop taking care of myself. The people I love, and Mother Nature, are fully capable with or without me, and I am free to take care of my own issues. Apparently, I still have plenty of those.

Have you ever stayed too long in a situation? Or, do you leave too soon?

Fast and Furious Figs

August 19, 2015 by admin

Normally, my figs show up in September, but this year, with its odd heat and dryness, I thought I’d better keep an eye on the tree just in case. These figs were plump, sweet, and ready to eat on August 1!

Figs are tricky. If you pick them too soon, they taste like cardboard — and do not ripen once picked. If you wait too long, they burst open on the tree.

When the figs come in, it takes about an hour a day to catch as many of the ripe ones as I can find. As you can imagine from the photo, they blend in with the thick leaves of the tree.

We’ve eaten several and I’ve frozen two batches. I gave a few batches away, too.

As abruptly as they began, they stopped. After a few crazy weeks, the figs seem to be over and done with…although we’re having yet another warmer-than-normal week, so who knows? There are more on the tree, and I’ll keep an eye on them just in case.

Since I’ve kept busy with the harvest, I think I will leave it at that this week — no metaphors today. How’s your summer going?

Cutting Back

July 29, 2015 by admin

Funny, I used to worry about the blank spaces between these plants!

When I started gardening five years ago, I wondered how I would learn what I need to know, and how many plants would have to die for my ineptitude. Turns out, I didn’t have to worry. Plants have a way of surviving in spite of me (most of the time), and the garden itself tells me what I need to learn next.

In the past few weeks, the lesson has been prune! prune! prune!

I’m thinking in particular of two plants: wallflower and lavatera. They’re gorgeous, flamboyant, and flagrant in their willingness to hog all the space. In one spot, I have one of each right next to each other, duking it out for survival.

The Internet, that source of all knowledge, assures me I can cut them back…in the fall. Now, though, I’m at least allowed to remove the spent blooms, so I’ve been doing that, though I manage to snip away at some of the crazy growth as I do so.

I’m not worried about it. I can’t seem to kill these guys.

Indoors, I am pruning as well. We just took a big load of stuff to Goodwill. I’m selling items I no longer need or want. There’s the spinning wheel I bought when I thought I would spend evenings in front of the television, spinning my hair into gold or something like that. There’s the camcorder I bought to film the yoga videos I’ve never made.

I’m “unfollowing” a lot of pages and people on Facebook, and I’ve even unfriended a few people. It’s not personal. I just tend to spend too much time there, and/or I get too upset by what I see. I need to protect my mood in order to write.

Bit by bit, I am confessing to myself that I am not going to accomplish everything in this life I set out to do. It’s time to scale back, to prune away what keeps me from doing what really matters to me: writing books.

“We’re getting older,” a friend of mine tells me. “We just can’t do it all.”

So I cut back. I prune. And, like the wallflower and lavatera, I won’t die from it.

Transitions

June 24, 2015 by admin

Solstice in the Pacific Northwest — these are days when we wake to blinding sunlight and 10:00 p.m. feels too early to go to bed.

I managed to capture a morning sky on Monday, but it was even better at 4:30 a.m. How do I know this? I don’t sleep much in the summer. Even with an eye mask and blackout curtains, somehow morning comes and nudges me like a cat wanting its breakfast.

We’re now in a transition. Though we are headed into the heat of the summer, solstice begins the transition to shorter days.

Outside, the garden has shifted gears, too. Though there’s still plenty of weeding to do, I’m spending the bulk of my time harvesting. Strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries are coming in all at once. We’re eating them, freezing them, and sending extras to various neighbors. There are so many berries that I don’t mind if a slug gets a hold of even the biggest, prettiest strawberry.

First year for raspberries! They're taking over the front yard. — First year for raspberries! They’re taking over the front yard.

Yet even as I fill bowls full of strawberries, I see signs of transition. Production is slowing, and a few of the strawberries have a tougher skin, which happens near the end. After a few busy weeks, there will be no more strawberries until late summer, when I get one more round.

My writing projects are in transition as well. What She Knew is officially ready to go to the editor after more than two years of work. While I wait to hear her availability, I am drafting a nonfiction work I’ve pondered for a few years.

I’m also researching 19th century woolen mills, women’s lives, and more for my next novel, which I plan to start in November during NaNoWriMo.

It’s exciting to plan and create new work. I’ve been in revision mode for a very long time, and I love the idea of switching from the tedious examination of every word to just letting ‘er rip.

How’s your summer going? Are you experiencing any transitions?

It's a fantastic blueberry year, too! — It’s a fantastic blueberry year, too!

Z is for Zen #AtoZChallenge

April 30, 2015 by admin

Congratulations, fellow AtoZ Challenge participants! We made it! *pops virtual champagne cork* Thanks to all who visited during this busy month! I applaud all of you who dove in and gave it your all.

***

When I was younger, I wanted to identify with one spiritual practice and went on a search for what that would be. I entered churches where people got saved, and I entered churches where people stood up and gave each other psychic readings. I have done a vision quest and Native American sweat lodges. I studied Catholicism for a while. Eventually I converted to Judaism, but even that wore thin for me.

I wanted to belong to something. I longed for that community of like-minded spiritual practitioners. I just never found that in organized religion.

These days, I can honestly say I have found a measure of peace in my life. I say “measure,” because I live with a certain existential discontent. At some level, that’s how I’m wired. Restlessness and curiosity are part of my nature. I don’t mind, though, and one could say I have found peace even with that discontent in place.

That peace, that zen, happens when I spend time in nature. Whether I’m on a hike or digging up weeds, this is where I discover myself, where I am calm, where I am most alive. As I work out garden problems, I work out plot problems, too. Writing and gardening, for me, are entwined.

It’s been an honor to share my garden zen with you this month. I applaud the organizers and many volunteers who have made the AtoZ Challenge so rewarding and fun. I honor all of you fellow bloggers for your content. You have made me laugh, cry, and think. Thank you!

I hope some of you will stay with me on this journey. I won’t always write about the garden, but the themes you have seen here will show up in other forms.

If you have enjoyed what you’ve read, please consider purchasing one of my books listed below. I never do a hard sell, but shame on me if I don’t mention them.

In yoga, we join the palms of our hands together at our hearts and bow to each other. We say “Namaste,” loosely meaning, “I bow to the divine in you.” Namaste, and I hope we will meet again.

Nadine

The Foreign Language of Friends

When a Grandchild Dies: What to Do, What to Say, How to Cope

Patchwork & Ornament: A Woman’s Journey of Life, Love, and Art by Jeanette Feldman (edited by Nadine Galinsky Feldman) — to purchase this book, please send me a message on the “Contact Me” page.