Joys of Gardening

I remember one day last spring when I was completely overwhelmed with the internship and grad school, and I was talking to my mom and told her that I would probably feel better if one single person at least acknowledged that I was working really hard. In short, I thought a touch of recognition might help get me through the school year (juvenile, I know). She told me I was probably pursuing the wrong career. It is odd. Teachers do amazing things, but the students typically don't realize this until they've been out of school at least a few years, if ever.

Surprisingly enough, gardening has been the exact opposite. Cambridge has a lot of foot traffic, and I look forward to working in front yards, because passer-byers frequently stop to a) generally admire the garden you're working on or b) ask you a question about their garden at home. ("Do I have to mulch after planting bulbs?" "Do I cut everything down now?" "What is the name of that shrub?") There is one woman who has a truly amazing bank garden (meaning her front yard is fairly steeply sloped), and she told us that someone actually wrote her an anonymous letter thanking her for keeping such a beautiful garden because it gave them something to look forward to every day.

A surprisingly large number of people assume that I am the owner of the house, and regardless of which house I'm at, I always say, "Actually, I just garden here. But it's a nice place to pass some time," which is typically true.

Last week I was cleaning up some beds in the front of a house, and a man walked by and commented on the garden and the nice amount of perennials, then wanted to know the name of a shrub (I never know names of shrubs. Unless it's a holly, I don't know.). We shared some small talk and he asked if the job lasted through the winter, and I said no, that hopefully I'd find something to do during January and February. He kind of paused and said, "Well you know," at which point I was convinced he was going to hire me wherever he worked, but then he continued: "if you have some free time, you should check out the cactus and succulent club." It's not a job, but it's the first club I've been invited into in years.

Fall Clean-Ups and Spring Investments

There's only one reason it's been a couple of weeks since I've posted anything: I haven't been able to think of anything I want to say. Say publicly, anyway.

It did occur to me the other day that I have not stopped spending at least one hour per day actively looking for/applying for jobs since March. My gardening job is fading and will be done by the first week in December. In a fearful moment, I looked up unemployment benefits online. In sum, I don't think I get any. I once looked into food stamps a couple years ago, but those didn't work out either. They asked me five times if I had any children or dependents. I didn't. Now I think, If only I had a kid, all my problems would be solved. A kid or a job.

Well, it's November. September-December is the best. I'm currently staring at my cup of hibiscus tea, waiting for it to cool. Warm beverages make everything better (Actually, that is a scientific fact I learned on Radiolab). We've been doing tons of "fall clean-ups" for work, which means cutting down perennials, tossing annuals, and raking leaves. About half the people we clean up for also want bulbs planted for the spring, and that is my favorite part. See, all other planting jobs consist of bringing plants in from the nursery, and the people we work for (almost all Cambridge residents) receive instant transformations from a blank bed into a completed garden. Instant gratification. Someone could literally decide on a whim they want a garden, and a couple days later get a full one. Doesn't this seem unfair? Maybe it's just me. Anyway, nobody gets tulips on a whim. Everybody has to decide in the fall and then wait until April. If I had a lot of money and time, I think it would be really fun to go around and plant bulbs in random places. You would get to have a secret for the entire winter, and then it would be a fantastic surprise. I had a children's book called Miss Rumphius which was about a very adventurous girl who grew up and felt she needed to contribute something to the world. So she set out on her bike and threw flower seeds all over town and mountainside, and everyone laughed at her until all the flowers bloomed. That's what I'm talking about.

The Defeated Pumpkin

I bought Silas a pumpkin costume at Target, but the only thing that remotely fit was the headband. I bought a large, but I am sure it would only fit a 30 pound dog. Silas is relieved. Poor pumpkin puppy.

Half-Sentence of the Week

I've been reading, both fiction and non, more than usual this week. I've read a lot of words, but I want to write the sentence that for whatever reason, I have thought of more often than anything else I've read this week. Actually, it's only half a sentence. It's found in a story called "Flyboys" by Tobias Wolff:

"I was a boy who didn't know he would never build a jet."

Lesson (Not Quite) Learned

When I worked at the restaurant in college, there was this giant tea brewer that probably made between four and a half gallons or so at a time. While the tea was brewing, you would get out the pitchers and leave two empty and fill the other three with giant scoops of sugar. Then when the tea was done, you would stand there, filling up the pitchers one by one by opening the spout at the bottom. However, since the last pitcher only filled about halfway, you would leave the spout open and walk away, doing something else while the last few drips made their way out. Finally came the important part. We ran through this process twice, and before you started the next batch of tea, it was necessary to lift the spout back up or four and a half gallons of tea would end up on the floor. I'm sure you see where this is going. I remember walking back over towards the machine after working at the restaurant for a few weeks, then promptly turning around to get a mop. I was mortified. Maybe you haven't seen four gallons of liquid on the floor before, but it is a lot. A co-worker walked up and said, "Don't worry. Everyone does it once." The idea being that after the first time, you are so traumatized that you are forever more careful with the machine. Well, I think I did it at least three times. Maybe four. Enough times at least that when my friend Steve did it, he walked over to where the rest of us were standing and said, "I just pulled a Sara Little."

I stopped crating Silas when he was about seven months old, satisfied that he was definitely potty trained. Before leaving the house every day, my roommate and I would close our bedroom doors, make sure there was no food on the counter tops, and make sure no socks or shoes were lying around. I thought that was pretty good until I came home to find Silas had eaten a book I had received for my birthday that was sitting on the coffee table. It was a very old, leather-bound book on identifying trees, and I was pretty upset (though not devastated. You learn the art of detachment quickly when owning a puppy). I remembered the adage that Bush Jr. couldn't quite spit out that time, the old "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice..." and resolved that I wouldn't be fooled twice.

The next incident was sort of a joint effort between the two dogs. I had my collection of Cook's Illustrated magazines on the breakfast bar that butted up to the window in the "dog room" where we left the pups during the day. Penny learned how to jump up on the breakfast bar to look out the window, sending my magazines to the floor (except the couple that landed in the water bowl) where Silas promptly got busy chewing. There were some salvageable scraps.

All the incidents after that sort of run together. It's to the point where you can tell how often I read a book by how many gnawings it has survived. The cover is always the first to go. Next the spine, then large chunks off the edges of pages. Leaving a book out is just something you do when you're in the middle of a book! Who reads a few pages, then returns the book to the shelf? They even request that you don't do that at the library. I remember a friend from high school who would scold me for dog-earing pages in a book. If only he could see what happens now...The reason this is being written today is because yesterday I left out my huge book of selections by C.S. Lewis which is now missing a back cover. Paperbacks suffer the worst. I returned it to the shelf and pulled out my (signed!) collection of short stories by Tobias Wolff, which is at least hardback. Silas got the paper cover, but the hard cover is still mostly in tact.

New Hampshire

It's difficult to explain my feelings about living in Boston/Somerville. As most of you know, I have some complaints (starting with the drivers, quickly moving into cost of living). However, the city's shortcomings are made up for by its close proximity to a thousand cool things. The Northeast is so beautiful, particularly this time of year. For every chunk of concrete in Boston, I've seen a lovely fall tree somewhere else. We've had several day excursions I haven't posted anything on, so I am going to start with the most recent: this past Sunday's visit to New Hampshire. I hadn't really ever heard anything about New Hampshire. Living in the South, I had heard about Vermont and Maine. New Hampshire just gets skipped over for some reason.

We left Somerville around 8:30am and arrived in Keene, NH at 10:30. Keene is home to Keene State College which has about 5,000 students. Keene was actually everything I had hoped Bennington, VT would be but wasn't: quaint downtown with lots of restaurants and shops, bordered by low mountains on either side. We ate breakfast at The Stage, not to be confused with the honky-tonk on Broadway in Nashville. James said arriving in the downtown on a Sunday before noon was the best travel idea I'd ever had (meaning no stores would be open and I therefore couldn't shop).

We left Keene and arrived at the trailhead (called the Dublin Trail) to Mt. Monadnock in less than an hour. It was definitely peak leaf weekend, so the mountainsides were beautiful. The final dirt road (picture above) was easily the prettiest road I've ever seen. I think it was called Old Troy Road, and the turn for it was opposite the Dublin Country Club.

I chose that particular trail for two reasons: 1) of about six trailheads, it appeared to potentially be the least crowded since it was one of two that didn't leave from the state park headquarters. 2) I read that the final ascent to the summit was less steep on this trail. Well, even the "least crowded" trail still had a filled parking lot (perhaps 30 cars?) with cars also parked along the dirt road. Luckily, it seemed the other hikers had gotten an earlier start, so besides just a couple other groups going up, most people we saw were heading down. There were lots of pauses on the way up. Pauses to take jackets off, pauses to put jackets back on, pauses for water, pauses for pictures (which can take a while when using the timer feature), pauses to scout for driest footing, pauses for breath, and pauses to be amazed with the woods in October. Looking up, most things were yellow and green. Looking down, most things were orange and red.

The nice thing about the trail was that about 2/3 of the way, you get a really nice view of the surrounding towns and mountains (the same view from the summit, essentially). The final bit is all stone. No more trees, meaning no more protection from wind. I should also mention that on the way up, I made fun of James for using a walking stick, so he abandoned it. Of course, by the end of the descent back down, I was the one relying on the walking stick. I am constantly humbled. And now I am all about a walking stick.

The walk down was both more enjoyable and more annoying, simultaneously. More enjoyable because you knew the hardest was over; it's all downhill now! More annoying because there was more company-- in our case a couple who wouldn't shut up about how Barbara brought too much food and that she had to take at least $100 worth home. I realize it took me one line to type out the entire gist of their conversation, but it took them about twenty minutes to discuss the ins and outs of the food (and wine) that Barbara brought. We eventually just gave them a head start so we wouldn't have to listen to them anymore.

I am about to have to leave for work, so I will quickly sum up my final thoughts: Go to New Hampshire in October! The hike to Mt. Monadnock is very doable (about 2.2 miles each way), though I was definitely sore the following day. Keene is a great place to kill a few hours (or just one hour if you go on a Sunday morning). We also stopped through Peterborough on our way home for dinner. It's smaller than Keene and is mainly filled with art stores. We ate at the Acqua Lounge which was very tasty, though on the pricier end. However, splitting an entree made it more affordable. More weekend trips will be posted soon!

Around Town

You know those days when you wake up and it's raining outside, making it very dark in your room, which makes you think to yourself, I really wish I didn't have to go to work today...

Well, my current jobs allows that thought to come true. When it rains in the morning, we call it a day. Ah, the perks of being a gardener. Don't be too jealous. Obviously, when you don't work, you don't get paid. But I'll worry about that later. So far today, I have made buttermilk pancakes, driven to the cvs where I pondered getting a flu shot, then just browsed greeting cards instead, chatted with my mom, and edited some pictures on my computer. I love rainy weekdays.

I decided I should post some pictures of life in Boston.

1) James's birthday present to me: an old 3 speed Raleigh sport bike, complete with the original bell and Brooks saddle, plus new basket. I love this bike but am not very brave. I feel like there's a good chance I will die when driving in a car (enclosed in a ton of steel), and I know I will die riding a bike in traffic. Luckily, there's a bike path that leads straight to the T one street over from my house. That's why I'm so happy in the picture! I need a better picture of the actual bike...

2) Fenway! I feel like getting into a Red Sox game is a major accomplishment (for which I cannot take credit for). The game was pretty terrible (we were in the 7th inning within about an hour), but the hot dog was delicious.

3 and 4) Arnold Arboretum shots. I'm glad I checked it out, but within about 15 minutes of being there I thought Why spend an hour driving across town to go to the fake woods when you can drive 20 minutes out of town and be in the real woods? I prefer the real woods.

5) James blowing out candles (only 24! I was one short...) on the finalized product of the "Adventures in Cake" entry.

6) My hundred pound pup with the gentle leader and shortest possible leash. This is once again on the bike path. It doubles for a dog park during the day.