Please Don’t Destroy My Garden No More

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I really need to make a sign like this for my street garden. Except mine would include an assortment of choice words and threats… all the things I want to say to the various offenders but can’t because I never catch them in the act. Threats such as, “If I ever catch you urinating in my garden you better have jets on your feet.” My neighbor once relayed the story of coming home to find a business man had stepped out of a limo and was urinating on our front steps. Now we’re not in the middle of nowhere here. There is a coffee shop right around the corner just a few steps away. Instead of shouting threats or calling the guy out he just walked up, stood alongside him and pulled down his zipper. “Watching you makes me feel like peeing here too.” he said to the startled and confused public urinator. I’m guessing that as a female this tactic would not be effective for me.

I often stop to photograph signs like the one above wherever I find them. And I find them more often than you’d think. It would be nice to believe that everyone appreciates the hard work gardeners put into making something beautiful that everyone can share in but the reality is that some people are messed up and those people sometimes feel resentment towards other living things and acts of beauty. Maybe it hurts them too much? Maybe they don’t feel like they can share in it but rather that it is just another thing they can’t have in their lives? Maybe they’re just angry as hell and need to take it out on something? Maybe they just need to pee RIGHT NOW and they don’t care where and they don’t care how? I don’t know or even understand all of the motives but I do know that just about any city gardener has a story and we’ve all learned an unexpected thing or two about human psychology via our gardens. Although I never would have thought of it, I really dig the signs that threaten karmic smiting. However when it comes down to it I find that I can’t wait or even believe that the “universe” will take care of business, I want to be the one to deliver the blow.

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When bad things happen to my garden I sometimes feel angry enough to cut some heads off. Metaphorically of course. But other times I just feel sad. Defeated. When my garden was most recently viciously assaulted my response wasn’t to get angry or violent. Instead, uncharacteristically, I crumbled. I decided to tack up a letter addressed to the perpetrator but all I could muster up was a sad and pathetic, “Why?” This time it just hit me in a way that it hasn’t in the past. This person didn’t just clumsily fall into the irises or trample the lilies on their way to a semi-private pee spot against the back wall. This person maliciously and purposefully took out every globe thistle in the garden. The thistles were big. They were tall and just about to bloom. This person very meticulously tramped every single stem in such a way that the stems were crushed right to the ground like crop circles in a corn field. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that this was not the cruel work of a tiny spaceship or a troop of little greys but the calculated act of a real human. I couldn’t believe it. Of all the things that have happened in and around that garden this particular act just floored me, leaving me feeling sad and powerless in a way that I did not like. So much so that it has taken me 4 weeks to coherently write here about this event. I mean I could get angry and throw stuff but who do I direct the anger towards when they are a faceless phantom? And what made it worse was how the purposefulness of it felt personal, like it wasn’t just the plants that were destroyed but that I had also been kicked in the gut and left to rot. And that no one did anything about it in that way that people will watch an assault on the street and then shamefully turn away from the victim rather than reach out or help.

And it gets worse. I know the attack happened during the day when there is always at least one or several people from the law clinic standing around shooting the shit and smoking. I know because I am never without an audience as I bend over to work on the garden. And they never say a peep and turn away when I look in their direction, never engaging and then when I am not around throwing their butts into the garden. To top it off, when I went outside that day and discovered the destruction I stood there for several minutes in shock. And then the emotions started to come. And as I turned around I caught a woman standing inside the doors of the law office gawking at me! Thanks lady!

About a week or so after the incident, I had finally got up the nerve to go out there and begin cleaning up and moving on. The thing is, what happened sucked but I’ve been through a lot with that garden, worse than this. And I’ve been through a lot in my life, much, much worse than this. And after a certain point I can’t not get back on the horse and keep going. Thankfully my stubbornness knows no limit. As I was getting ready to leave a man stopped and called out to me from across the street saying that he loved the garden and was glad to see that I was able to get back on my feet and keep going after what had happened. I was feeling too overwhelmed at the time to say what I felt but I want to tell that lovely man how much I appreciated his words and support. That seemingly small and simple act of kindness from a stranger really turned things around for me because he had acknowledged what had happened, saw how it had hurt, and turned towards me instead of looking away.

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Secret Gardens

I’ll be traveling to Hamilton, Ontario this Sunday to do a book signing and give two presentations at the Royal Botanical Gardens. Giving gardening presentations and workshops has become a regular part of my spring schedule yet it is something I rarely seem to talk about here. What’s worse is that I have been noticing a growing disconnect between the things I add to the site and the things I talk about at these events. Looking back I think it’s got to be the fact that I am so exhausted by the end of spring that I just kind of move on and lose the excitment to share. Last spring I wrote, designed (with photos) and gave eight completely lectures within a months time! My New Year’s resolution is to start integrating all of these different aspects into this site.

One of my favourite things about speaking to groups is showing photos of the gardens I find in the craziest places. My attitude is that if these people can pull it off, anyone can! I have taken to starting off many presentations with the following photo since I think it’s about the most successful worst garden I have ever encountered.

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I first found this little tomato patch a few summers back while wandering through the alleys of Toronto. Toronto has an exceptionally great alley system that is an interesting (but sometimes indirect) system for walking or biking from point A to B if you’d rather stay off the beaten path. People are less concerned about the back of their house so there is a lot of hidden gems and bits of history that has been left in place.

But I digress. Every summer a group of artists borrow the garages of a local system of alleys to put on an art show called “Alley Jaunt.” I found this little cobbled-together raised bed sitting behind a garage while out exploring these temporary garage galleries. A year later I came across the same garden while on another Alley Jaunt. This time the gardener responsible was there tending to and harvesting an impressive patch of pole beans — his own version of crop rotation! Unfortunately the elderly gent spoke Portueguese and I do not so communication was impossible. I tried to let him know how impressed and inspired I was by his garden as best I could and then went on my way.

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Gardening Mad

Because I haven’t done so in a while, be advised that this post contains cursing.

I received an email from a reader recently who was “disappointed” by the current contest prize pack which is comprised of assorted items from Julie Jackson’s Subversive Cross-stitch line. My initial reaction to the letter was, “To each her own.” I have a sensibility and taste that appreciates Julie’s biting sense of humor while others like this particular reader believe it to be, “the most insulting thing [they] have seen in a long time.”

No big deal.

But then I thought about it. And I started to wonder just what it is that people might find so offensive about Julie’s work and the only thing I could think of is that it’s got to be the cursing. I can’t imagine what else it could be because though Julie’s messages might not be work-place appropriate they aren’t hateful or cruel and they certainly aren’t insulting. They are witty, sarcastic, direct, and sometimes angry — healthy and therapeutic responses to things in the world that really do suck; things like cancer, the crap we sometimes put ourselves through during the holidays, the lies told by politicians, working at a job that is spiritually draining: the list goes on.

I love gardening. And beyond that I see gardening as an active pursuit in a world that encourages passivity. For that reason and others that I won’t get into now, gardening has the potential to affect positive change in ourselves and the world around us. Working in the garden brings me joy, excitement, courage, and solitude. Digging my hands in the soil and nurturing a plant fills me with a sense of wonder about the world, and teaches me to embrace failure and learn patience.

I want to share that experience with other people and I want to encourage more people to take it up for themselves.

But I need to say, and have been trying for some time to find a way to say that this experience is not all about sunshine and roses. Like all humans, I am a person with pain who has suffered and struggled. I have come to realize over time just how much gardening is a therapy and a way for me to nurture myself, find solace, and release anger and frustration. I can’t imagine how many of us would have stuck with this “hobby” for any length of time if it were simply about puttering about and making things look pretty. I came to be a passionate gardener because I NEEDED it. Life includes struggle. Sometimes I am grateful for that struggle but sometimes I’m angry and damned if I’m going to accept a world that doesn’t provide space for people like me to punch the air, laugh like a maniac, and say fuck it once in a while!

And because I am a gardener, and these experiences are a part of life, a part of who I am, who I have been, and who I will become, they are not inappropriate or out of context even here, on a website about gardening.

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Your Gardens

While harvesting a-plenty from my own gardens, I have been eagerly following the harvest from your gardens. The Garden Show & Tell section of the homepage has been filling up lately with photos of vine-ripened tomatoes and piles of peppers. And I have noticed an abundance of mature garden photos on display in the Show & Tell section of the forums. This predilection to show off our gardening achievments seems to be a huge aspect of the support we need as budding and even seasoned gardeners. Forget pest control tips or fertilizing advice, what we really need is encouragement through the rough patches and lots of high fives before we pack it all in for the winter (or the too-hot summer for the southerners). It’s generally other gardeners who understand both the work that went into producing that first, juicy tomato, and the pride we feel in having grown it.

We’re worse than new parents, albeit new parents who eat their progeny!

Some highlights:

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Dallas Hays, a Gardener After My Own Heart

I was recently inspired by a gardener profiled in the April/May issue of Organic Gardening magazine. In the interview, gardener Dallas Hays of Lewiston, Idaho talks about making his own fish fertilizer (good for nitrogen) “..using a blender and squawfish from a nearby lake.” He also makes his own potting mix and substitutes ground up loofah that he grows himself as a substitute for peat moss. In the same mix he replaces perlite with corncobs run through a cornmeal grinder.

I love it when people take it upon themselves to go outside the usual and try new and crazy homemade substitutes in the garden. Dallas, if you are reading this, you rule!

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