The Inadvertent Gardener

When I shot these flowers on Oahu, I thought they were snapdragons, but they’re not. If you know what they are, I’d love to know via the comments!

Gardeners, plant and nature lovers can join in Green Thumb Sunday every week. Visit As the Garden Grows for more information.

Just before Christmas, I was having a conversation with a guy who flitted in—then out—of my life like a strange and beautiful moth. “I am done with roommates,” I said. “Never again.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “The only roommate I’ll ever have again will be the one that’s sharing my bed.”

It was in the same vein of a statement that my mother made once to my Foreign Service Officer father. “I will move anywhere in the world, but I’ll never move to Nigeria,” she told him. This was weeks before he came home and dropped upon us the news that we were moving to the land of oil, black mambas and perpetual equatorial humidity.

In other words, never say never, because just weeks after I made that unequivocal statement, an opportunity arose. Like all things in this world, it was born of complicated circumstances, but in my experience, those are the kinds of circumstances that birth all things interesting and great.

It was very shortly after that my friend Fatemeh, who I have mentioned here before, brought up the possibility of moving in as her roommate in a new apartment not far from where I live now. There were many up-sides to this option, and among them? The 250-square-foot patio, which included some out-of-the-way space perfect for setting up a container garden.

A patio. Outdoor space that will be our very own. An opportunity to really try urban gardening, since my plan to get a community plot never materialized.

When I settled into my apartment in downtown Oakland, I thought I might never leave. The newer-than-new kitchen, the space, the quiet—all of it was perfect for healing my heart and learning the ins and outs of my new town. It had everything I’d been looking for, except for outdoor space in which to plant something.

Truth be told? I didn’t have time to plant a damn thing. Not in 2009, anyway. But 2010 is already a very different year, and the thought of, once again, being able to run outside in my bare feet and clip a few basil leaves for an omelette, or to harvest two handfuls of baby lettuce for salad makes me incredibly happy.

I’ve loved where I landed after I moved here, and I’m sure I’ll grumble all the way through packing and unpacking, but this is a new year, and a new season for growing. I’ll happily eat my December words, with a side of…oh, yes…homegrown tomatoes.

So…welcome to the next phase of this inadvertent adventure. Starting in March, it’ll be time to plant again.

Even when I’m actually in a relationship, I both love and hate Valentine’s Day. It’s like New Year’s Eve—so rarely epic, but always fraught with the possibility that it just might be.

But what I love, unequivocally, are the small producers that I’ve come to know and adore as I’ve moved across the country and gotten more and more into local, organic and sustainable eating. That’s part of why I became a Foodzie partner—it allows me to show some love to some of my favorite products from some of the local producers that make my kitchen a tastier place to eat.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, Foodzie is running a contest right now: show how much you love your favorite small producer, and you could win a $100 gift card to use with any of the producers on Foodzie. The deadline to enter is February 5, so go check it out on the Foodzie blog. The winner will hear from them by February 8, which should give you enough time to place an indulgent Valentine’s order for yourself and a sweetie…or, just yourself, because you are so very, very worth it.

(And, just to note for the record, I have no stake in this particular game…just thought it might be a nice opportunity for my readers!)

Gardeners, plant and nature lovers can join in Green Thumb Sunday every week. Visit As the Garden Grows for more information.

Yesterday afternoon, I got an email from Seed Savers Exchange announcing it’s time to put in transplant orders. Since I moved to Oakland, I’ve been deleting most messages from SSE, although, it should be noted, not actually getting off the mailing list. Just deleting, and ignoring.

Until yesterday afternoon.

Though it’s not yet time for a full announcement, suffice it to say that I have solved the I-don’t-have-a-garden-in-Oakland problem. There are changes in store, and they’re coming fairly quickly. I’ll get to that, but for now, you’ll just have to stay in suspense.

Because this is not a story about moving. This is about how, as I clicked through the tomato seedling possibilities (Mexico Midget, Amish Paste, Stupice…), a quick wash of sadness surprised me. Not regret, not hindsight, not a revision of memory, just a momentary reminder of where all this began, and where things are not anymore.

And then it was gone, and I resumed normal operating levels of happiness. But who knew the simple idea of a tomato could carry so much memory in its wake?

Gardeners, plant and nature lovers can join in Green Thumb Sunday every week. Visit As the Garden Grows for more information.

Like everyone else, I am nauseous over the tragedy that has unfolded in Haiti, by the death and destruction and sheer horror of the images broadcasting from Port au Prince and other parts of the country.

Here is what sinks my stomach to a dark pit: I cannot help but think about the 30,000-foot view that all of us who aren’t there have. We have access to reports, and television, and photographs, and social media, and Google Earth images of before and after. We know the world has mobilized. We know help is there, and is still coming. We know what is on the way.

But I imagine what it must be like, late at night, to lie in a park next to the remaining members of my family, smelling death and hearing moans and snores and conversations around me, and not having any way to find out that the world is out here, reaching out a hand, sending what we can to help.

There are so many who have no idea when or if help is coming.

Life is a fine balance of tragedy and joy, of death and living. Though Haiti has been on the minds and hearts of all those around me, the fact remains that we all still have to go to work, and there are parties to attend, and conversations to have about non-weighty matters. Life goes on out here in the rest of the world, no matter how unfair that may be.

So I encourage you to find ways to weave that life together with support of the people who need our help so much right now. All around the Bay Area, musicians and restaurateurs have begun holding fundraiser events in support of Haiti relief. On Monday, I’ll be stopping by Papalote, which will be donating 15 percent of their proceeds from sales at both stores to Haiti relief. Eater SF is compiling a running list of other local bars and restaurants that are making similar efforts. Support a local restaurant while supporting the people of Haiti? It’s a small thing, but it’s a way I can weave this into my daily life.

To my friends back in Iowa City, I encourage you to hit Devotay on Sunday during dinner. A portion of what you spend, whether it’s on the bacon-wrapped dates or any of the other fantastic menu items, will go to the American Red Cross in support of Haiti.

And, because the enjoyment of art, too, can be in service of the greater good, I must tell you about a fundraiser project put together by Lane Hartwell and Michael Biven, a Bay Area couple I’ve gotten to know via Twitter. They have released Onè Respe: A Photographic Benefit for the Survivors of the Haiti Earthquake. Featuring the donated work of photographers including renowned photojournalist Mary Ellen Mark, it’s a beautiful tribute to this devastated country. All proceeds from sale of the issue will go to the International Red Cross.

These things are small, but they are something. Whether you take action through these channels or another way, take action. Take action for those who have no idea whether help is coming or not.

The best thing about January? Opening up a brand new calendar. And, while I usually come up with a calendar that features my photography, I stumbled across a resource late last week that I have to share.

The Cottage Industrialist’s monthly calendar highlights seasonal produce and recipe ideas to put those seasonal fruits and vegetables to their best use. And best of all? It’s a free download. Just find yourself a color printer and start putting these whimsical pages to use.

Only January through June is available right now, but the rest of the year should be posted soon. So go! Download!

While visiting my parents over the holidays, my Dad announced, rather quietly, that he might have found a place to garden this year. My parents moved to Ohio just after I moved to California, and, like me, Dad hasn’t found his gardening groove quite yet. He has a yard, but it’s not a good one for tomatoes, even though it has beautiful trees and landscaping and all that.

The plot he has his eye on is on a farm outside of the town where they live, and is not far from where he coaches a high school softball team.

“I’m not sure how I’ll fit the gardening tools in the car with all the softball equipment, but if I can figure that out, I’ll be able to garden and coach in the same trip,” he said.

“Growing vegetables,” I said, “while growing young minds.”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”

Gardeners, plant and nature lovers can join in Green Thumb Sunday every week. Visit As the Garden Grows for more information.