Archive for August, 2012

State of the garden

Things are getting a little out of hand.

The original plan was just to get a few plants to gussy up the balcony so it’d more pleasant when we’re sitting out there or I’m writing or grilling or whatever. And I wanted most of the plants to be edible, because if I’m going to spend time and money on something, I think I should get to eat it. The dog is on notice. I didn’t want to get too ambitious, because it’s only a 12×6 second-floor balcony with no planting beds and intermittent sunshine.

Here’s what I considered a reasonable little balcony garden. A pepper plant, some spinach, some beets, a couple of ferns … Completely reasonable.

Several weeks later, I’m crowding myself out with all kinds of green stuff.

The air conditioner is now a support system for herbs.

I’ve got things hanging somewhat precariously. Like this basket of what I hope will become strawberries.

And even flowers, for crying out loud. (The Superbena Lilac Blues are doing nicely, but the Red Aztecs are total B.S.)

I’ve got stuff growing in a sack. I didn’t even know that was a thing.

And in tupperware.

I have done battle with monsters.

And I am making way too many trips to the nursery, spending too much money, and getting away from my initial plan for the balcony, which was to make it a pleasant, uncluttered space. So I need to start thinking about window boxes, about going vertical, and I really need to stop going to the nursery.

But I do like growing food.

And I like being surrounded by something other than stucco and concrete. It’s fun to have a new enthusiasm, and there’s nothing quite like sticking one’s hands into a bag of dark, moist, dirt. We’ll see how this all goes. The important thing is I still have room for this:


Garden envy

I’m pretty proud of my little balcony garden, considering the only plant I’ve ever had success with before is bread mold.

But this is the neighborhood garden club. If I had an allotment I could grow ALL the spinach. But they’re not even taking applications. Jerks.