Musing on planting a fall garden. Lofton and Me.
“What are you doin’ with that camera? You’re always taking pictures.”
“Lofton. I have a blog. Do you know what a blog is?”
He nodded affirmative.
Today was the day. The winter garden was going in so naturally I was snapping pictures.
Lofton and his brother Charles did the honors. Because frankly, preparing and planting my little space of God’s Green Acre is a lot harder than I ever imagined when I decided to “become one with the land” a few springs ago.
A fall, till killer-frost garden, basically has greens.
Collards, mustards, turnips, chard, lettuces and my personal favorite.
Of all the things I have planted summer or fall (well, of all the things Lofton has planted and I have tended) broccoli is my favorite. A true southern gal should say something like tomatoes or butter beans, but I never lie to you. Even if it breaks with my southern “brand.”
I love brocoli and if you’ve ever seen it grow it is GLORIOUS. (But that is another post.)
When I told Lofton about the blogging part, he did this.
Charles was worrying that I was going to put their picture in the paper.
No. Just my blog.
Last year, I ended up with lots of greens, much more than I could eat.
My friend Annie, who I met when she knocked on my door to pray for my garden, takes lots and cooks them for other folks.
My motto: my garden is your garden. But don’t go messin’ too much with my brocoli.
Race in a small town is a funny thing. Or maybe it’s the most natural thing in the world? Differences, I mean. Why does being the same, but different have to be a bad thing?
When in Atlanta, we lived in an in-town neighborhood insulated and surrounded with lots of urban, upper-middle class, most-likely-liberal, feeling enlightened folks.
In a small town,
white/black, doin’-okay/doin’-not-so-great,
live side-by-side. Or block-by-block.
I know some folks say one thing and hold another in their heart.
But I can’t fix people.
Lofton and I are cool.
He doesn’t always understand me. I don’t always understand him.
But we understand the garden and
that white or black —
doin’-okay or doin’-not-so-great —
we care about each other.
My garden’s planted. A bit late, steeping with chicken manure, but we got us a garden.
How about you? Do you grow anything in the fall?
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I didn’t like green vegetables before I knew they grew in poop.
Sadly no fall garden would survive in Maine. We will be able to harvest kale until it’s covered with snow, and we brought “Pepper Pete” (yes, we’ve named the potted pepper plant) into the house to keep it going longer — it has at least 20 pepper on it, turning red, and it’s the best we’ve ever grown! Your garden looks amazing, though, and I wish I could grow a fall garden, too!
I really does have the potential to be amazing Julia. Just need the weather to cooperate with some rain.
Rain, did someone say they needed rain?! I have so much in Central Florida right now that I need an ARK!
I am grateful we did not put the fall garden in yet. I am, well, actually MacGyver is going to build me some garden boxes for the backyard. I don’t mind going to the barn in the spring and summer, but the winter it is not happening. Plus, we have a horrible north wind and at the house I can protect everything better. We dump horse and cow manure all over it.
Also, I read that book “Same Kind of Different As Me.” I loved it and I met Ron Hall in Tennessee last year. Denver is not in the best of health and could not attend. Have you read the second book, “What Difference Do it Make?”
Keep us posted on your garden.
I have not read the second book. I think “Same Kind of Different As Me” should required reading. An awesome book and story. Though made me quite teary and happy (at the end) at same time.
I follow the Orlando Sentinel on Twitter and a few Orlando people and gathered that you all must be getting tons of rain. I think we are supposed to get some by Monday. We can only pray so. And if we can the rain regularly, the garden should do okay.