Good Creature/Bad Genes

I feel like I am racing against a clock. It's exhausting and a bit exhilarating, but it's working.

Terrain Vague before the fence build

Now I don't mean the literal one or even the proverbial one we often talk about, but the one that ticks when you have big aspirations and a timeline that suddenly bends and tangles without notice, with just one phone call.

Unfortunate necessity is a fence, but I am also a private person who needs a secret place to garden.

I left a gap at the bottom so the animals that explore this space can still come in. I am trying to be a good creature to other great creatures.

This week's phone call was one that Hallmark movies can make a lot more dramatic. I was kind of expecting it anyway, so it wasn't like I was shocked. I wasn't surprised because I come from a long line of maternal genes that tend to misbehave once the body reaches the 40th decade. I am three years older than my mother was when she received her news, five years older than the age my grandmother died from it. I have always been a late bloomer.

Not 100% pleased I had to use treated wood, but I guess this fence will be around for awhile.

So, it seems I have breast cancer. I get a pink ribbon. The better news is that because I knew I have this family history and because I live in a time when computers can see better than a human, and I am blessed with good insurance (unlike others), I was meticulous about getting my mammograms. It's very early in my naughty cells' ardent revolt. Well, ironically, I was a bit late this year by about half a year and I was reminded by my primary physician I was overdue. Also, ironically, I joked with my sister that this would be my year because I was late (secretly, between you and me, I was going to skip it this year because I was thinking I had dodged the bad gene bullet...I think there is a lesson in here to pass on). 

A cat likes to visit the lot

So, I am racing against a schedule that will include surgery in the next few weeks. I have such big plans for Terrain Vague this spring and I hope I am not going to be down too long. But, because I am in the dark on the recovery time at the moment, I am working double time to get some logistical items completed. Particularly items like fence building that uses a bit of muscle and grit. Today, I managed to build part of the fence (I would have finished it, but I could only fit 15 pickets in my clown car). Next week, I plan to transport the other 15 pickets I need and build a gate. I also have a few fruit trees already here with more to come (nectarine, figs and a plum) to get in the ground and raised bed boxes to build. I have compost and soil being delivered soon. I have plans to build a greenhouse from old windows I have scavenged. I need to do all of this pre-surgery.

I am also speed reading because, this week, all of my long waitlisted books came in at once at the wonderful public library in my city. I love the library. I support the library. I am a Friend of the Library. Currently, my three favorites out of the giant stack of books are:

• Veggie Garden Remix by Niki Jabbour
• How to Be a Good Creature by Sy Montgomery (p.s. read her book The Soul of the Octopus)
• The Nature Fix by Florence Williams*

So, Terrain Vague should be dramatically altered in just a few weeks, not Hallmark movie dramatic or anything, but enough that I can escape and breathe when the fear of anesthesia and anger with my bad genes overcomes me. A place where I can plant some seeds, water them with tears and hope something grows.

*Unbeknownst to me, again ironically, I saw Florence Williams also wrote a book called Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History which is absolutely going on my next hold list.

Winter-ish

Terrain Vague No. 1 Winter 2019

The beginning of 2019, as it should in the Northern Hemisphere, has looked like winter, felt like winter and smelled like winter. If I tasted the snow that lies across Terrain Vague No. 1, I am sure I would say it even tastes like winter. And winter, on this 62nd day of January, keeps reminding me that I can't play in the dirt just yet.




St Brigid, the Imbolc goddess

But what I can do is scheme and draw crude little pictures of what Terrain Vague No. 1 will look like if all goes as planned this spring. My library book pile consists of keywords like permaculture, urban farming, and green witch gardens. I've been creating lists of seeds, fruit trees, berries and flowers like a kid picking out toys for Santa. I've been drooling over Instagram gardens and making vision boards full of ideas bigger than the square footage of the lot itself. Winter, fortunately, also keeps me from getting ahead of myself. It is a time for list making, for dreaming.


Bricks from former vacant house

This weekend, just in time for Groundhog Day/Imbolc (it's also my late Bohemian grandmother's birthday), winter is going to take a brief respite from its dark, dank and dismal attitude and tease us with some warmer temps (50-60 F). I have big plans to start some seeds indoors and make a straw St. Brigid doll to bring springtime Imbolc blessings to my life, community and garden. I also plan to can vegetable broth from saved scraps and forest berry jam (remnants from a recent freezer excavation) and maybe dig some holes outside or seek out driftwood and ice clouds at our nearby river island playground, but the main thing I hope to accomplish is to just enjoy not feeling so winterish.



Snowprints