Did I tell you the story about my $600 container garden? Probably not.
It’s a little embarrassing.
I had just decided it was time TO GROW my very own vegetables. The conventional produce was beginning to outweigh the organic produce at my local market and, frankly, I eat FAR MORE produce than my CSA basket could provide. GREEN smoothies. GREEN juices. Winter GREENS. Seriously simple GREEN salads.
I should have been a rabbit.
Besides, I wanted to get my hands in the soil. I wanted to nibble the greens straight from the garden. I wanted to bite into a juicy red, ripe tomato warmed by the sun. I wanted to FEEL the juice trickle down my chin.
Yes, for me, eating beautiful food is a sensory experience.
From the snap of a bean.
To the scent of Grandma’s homemade soup simmering on the stove top.
I want to embrace every nuance of the process
from soil … to plate.
And so I needed the perfect accoutrements. My husband lovingly constructed raised garden beds lest a stray chemical from a neighbor’s ‘chem lawn’ seep into my soil.
The families of my frolicking first graders gifted me with a huge cold frame. (They had probably seen me nibbling from the first grade garden plot after hours, sunlight fading as I combed my classroom for one more project to complete before heading home.) They knew me well. They knew NOTHING would excite me more than …
MY.VERY.OWN.GARDEN
Even though I would sorely miss the delightful sound of the “little voices” of my first graders as they tumbled through the classroom garden screaming, “Mrs. Gleason, Mrs, Gleason! I think I found the salad dressing!” a white foamy substance seeping from the giant weeds in their eager little hands.
Yes, MY garden would be pristine. MY garden would be ORGANIC. And for that, I needed just the right soil.
I searched the local nurseries. No luck. Not organic.
I scoured the internet. You can find ANYTHING on the internet. I found Seven Springs Farm in Floyd Count, Virginia. I placed an order.
A few days later I heard my cell phone ringing on the desk. Teachers don’t take phone calls. Teachers barely have the opportunity to take potty breaks.
I grabbed the phone and said hello, children chirping and dancing all around me giggling, “She’s on the phone! Mrs. Gleason’s on the cell phone! Who are you talking to, Mrs. Gleason?”
There is no privacy in a first grade classroom.
“Hello, Sue Ann?” I have a price for you. It was tough to hear the voice at the other end but it sounded something like, “How does $240 sound?”
“Yes, yes! I said, “That’s perfect.” I had no idea how much one paid for a dozen fifty-pound bags of organic soil but that sounded like a deal. That would be about two weeks worth of groceries and I was looking forward to an ENTIRE SUMMER of vegetables spilling out of my garden. I hung up the phone, a look of blissful anticipation crossing my face. I couldn’t wait to get my hands IN THE DIRT..
Weeks passed and finally they arrived. The pallets sat at the end of my driveway, huge bags of soil, too heavy to lift. (Oops.). That was A LOT of soil, probably far more soil than I actually needed but I didn’t care. I was ready to PLAY. Seeds were planted. Sprouts emerged. Mint multiplied. I was having a ball.
The tomatoes? Well, admittedly, the tomatoes were a little weak.
And then, the bill arrived. $642.98. Oh my. That was the SHIPPING price he had quoted on the phone. I was now the grateful recipient of the most expensive potting soil on the planet. My peers chuckled. My husband groaned. But me? I just smiled knowing that I had vegetables grown with my own hands in my own space and I was delighted!
This year, I found a local distributor. This year I’m going to try the Abundant Veggie Patch System. Check it out. It’s rich!
Do you have a garden story? Will you be planting anything this year? Leave a comment and lets plan a play date in the dirt.
8 thoughts on “A Unique Garden Story For Sure”
Sadly we are suburban, where HOAs stipulate any real garden space that isn’t “landscaping.” I do plan, however, to start a decent-sized herb garden. Just trying to decide on the location and design. BTW, my hubby might have done more than groan. 🙂
Rebecca, have fun with that. And don’t forget the chocolate mint! I love my herbs. NOTHING makes a salad sing more.
Rebecca,
I’m suburban too . . . there is quite a bit of gardening to be done in containers on a deck 🙂 Lavender can be used in food, and looks beautiful. Strawberries can also grow well in a container — ours come back every year! As for the herbs, my Rosemary made it through the winter in a container on the deck . . . used some last night for my roast chicken.
Sue Ann,
Every season when we plant cucumbers, zucchini, and tomatoes I think of you! Also, I currently have 3 green bean plants growing in my home. The 9 y/o was experimenting with seeds in a plastic bag, and they really began to grow. We had to move them to a pot, and put them in a safe place where the dog couldn’t knock over the pot. Looks like we have something new to add to the garden this year.
Also, I recall the year of the cold boxes . . . one of the best ideas ever for the first graders!
Have a fabulous day today!!
Amy
Sue Ann, I don’t have a gardening story to share, but this sounds like something I would do!! Also, I have a friend who (like me) lives in a suburban neighborhood of San Diego. She wanted to have chickens in her ‘backyard’ (which really isn’t so much a backyard as it is a space between tract homes). She was sorely disappointed to learn from my brother (who built a chicken coop in the back of his Portland home) that there were zoning restrictions she might need to heed.
Who knew there was so much involved in cultivating one’s own food in one’s own backyard? Ah… modern society. 🙂 Thank you for sharing this delightful tale, and I’m quite certain the veggies you’ve cultivated with your own hands LOVE are delectable and well worth the most expensive soil on the planet. 🙂
Sue Ann, I read your post and SMILED. Sometimes those “costly mistakes” teach us lessons we need to learn (never mind the price tag…) — the fact that you DELIGHTED in growing your own produce was worth every penny.
I’m already in “growing” mode (personally and garden-wise) — your thoughts provide fertile soil. 🙂
Ah, love this…what wonderful images dance in my mind after reading the following.
From the snap of a bean.
I wanted to bite into a juicy red, ripe tomato warmed by the sun. I wanted to FEEL the juice trickle down my chin.
I am doing what I can to create a garden here in the desert of Dubai. I have grown tons of mint, rosemary and some basil. Today I found a lil tomato, which delighted me SO much. I love how you’re not only enhancing all of our ideas of how to eat BUT also so committed to our energy around what we eat. Your “Abundant Veggie Patch” sounds magical and something, maybe I could try too? We’ll see, I am committed to learning how to eat better. Thank you for always provoking me to raise the bar in all that I do.
How did I miss this! Ah yes, I was down the rabbit hole! What a DELIGHT! I can relate both to children bounding in with their ideas of creamy salad dressing and costly misunderstandings which result in rich abundance. I love the fierceness in which you embrace alllllllll that you do and be, Sue Ann! I once dreamt of having a container garden, my sister brought me the books, my youngest son begged for a garden, but my life was too much already and any time I didn’t have to teach and feed my family, I wanted to create depth art.
I look forward to gardening in my future. It runs very deep in my family. You put me deeply in touch with that earthiness and the idea of actually growing foods that I eat… having my hands in the soil that smells so rich. I reeeeeeally look forward to hearing about your experiment with the Abundant Veggie Patch system. I have a premonition that this is going to become part of your grand design which you will teach others… ME!! xo
Ha, ha, I think we have a funny little dynamic going on here between art and garden and kitchen, yes? Perhaps I can paint with beet juice and you can play in the dirt.