Sunday, March 25, 2012


Two cubic yards of planting mix (screened soil, sand, compost) arrived yesterday afternoon — dumped on my parking strip, on a blue tarp. I'm building containers out of slashed-down cardboard boxes, all tape and tags ripped off. Ten years ago I'd have called it kind of "ghetto", but now it's a decomposable raised bed built with recycled materials. Very EC. (Environmentally correct.) And with a minimal cash outlay.

As the plants grow, and the soil becomes more stable and compacted, the beds will (hopefully) stand on their own. And if the cardboard doesn't all decompose, I can tear it away.

As it's streetside (in public view), I'm waiting negative responses from neighbors, but so far it's all good. And it's where the sun is, so for the first time in 25 years I can grow edibles without battling shade. I'm also looking at it as my "summer club" — I can attend to my plants and visit with passers-by at the same time.

Post dirt, I got busy with the KitchenAid and made a cake (and yes, that's 52) —

Post cake (and post party), there was dancing at the Royal Room (African music) and for two hours I forgot that dancing and I are not the best of friends. A little dirt, a little sugar, some chocolate and some vodka, and anything seems possible.


  1. Happy birthday (I presume it was YOURS).

    I can never get over this American use of the word 'DIRT', instead of 'EARTH'. Earth is such a nice word.

  2. Cro, the cake was for a friend, but I'll take the Happy Birthday anyway!

    The word 'earth' conjures up layers of crust and mantle...but 'earth' is indeed a more poetic word than 'dirt'.

  3. I used to have a lovely garden in my front yard. I spent a lot of time out there, weeding, planting, watering. I met all my neighbors there, all the kids would talk to me, I would tease them with the hose. It's all gone now, living in an apartment with no children around, no dirt, no garden. I miss it at times.

  4. i love the way to go at life full tilt.