time travel... or why I enjoy my temporary job

the counter Insert me behind the counter with one to four other women with 2 to 30 customers milling around in front of it... and, voila, you have a visual of my job. I'm a bean counter, or, I guess, technically a bean weigher. We sell beans in four ounce increments, the beans are in the bins in front of the counter. It'd be pretty easy to steal a few. The glass jars on the shelves house the seeds, which is sold mostly in quarter of an ounce increments.

the sidewalk Note the flowers. The flowers are priced differently than the vegetables with which I work. That can be a little annoying. Flowers cost more than vegetables. You can get three baby Silver Queen corn stalks for $1.29 and a gerbera daisy costs $4.99. That doesn't seem quite fair. Today I bought a Juliet tomato plant for 3.89-- it will produce 600-700 grape tomatoes this season. Seriously, what's the little daisy going to do-- sit there and wilt. The vegetable side is far cooler.

the alley This is the "getaway". If you've had one too many ornery customers in a row, this is where you go. It's a working break in the same vein as a working vacation. You can water the plants and organize and take a breather from annoying people. I have no scientific data to prove this statement, but I think there's something therapeutic in being surrounded by living organisms. I like working with plants. It's fun to watch a plant perk up after watering it. But, on the other side, it's frustrating to watch customers break the seedlings trying to get the plant they perceive is the best. This one culprit complained to me, "You have a lot of broken plants." I replied, "Well, it's because customers break them trying to get one in the back." She said no more.

Overall, I enjoy our customers. Farmers and gardeners are patient-- if not by nature than through experience. One regular customer told me that he only expends energy on things that produce good after I thanked him for waiting so patiently. He went on to talk about how little control he has and he chooses to exert his control in that manner. Needless to say, I like seeing him. Then, we have people who are beyond nit picky. I just leave them be with the tomatoes or bell peppers. This one guy wanted to argue with me that the golden bell peppers were more orange than they were yellow. Dude, seriously. I'm glad I wasn't watering plants because I'd have squirted him with the hose. Then one guy told me how terrible the sweet potatoes looked, and I told him that I wasn't going to hold a gun to his head and make him buy them.

But, I come home socialized and tired. I really, really, really enjoy the ladies with whom I work. They are fantastic; I have a lot to learn from them about attitude and diligence.

job update

I go in tomorrow at 10am to a local nursery to try out the job. We shall see-- I'll be on the seedy side. It could be fun, and there's definitely a lot to learn. This will be unskilled labor that I have interest in.

I have an all day interview on Sunday. Yes, Sunday, which I thought was on Saturday until a few hours ago. Oops. And, I have an all day interview on Thursday. I have to prepare two lessons. One is on figurative language, which I'm going to use comic strips. And, the other is on Roman technology. Both are going to be awesome, but guess which one is my favorite?

In related news, I'm still studying for personal training certification-- a chapter a day. And, I start my knitting class tonight at 6:15pm at my church. I have selected my turquoise blue worsted weight yarn and size 9 circular needles. Bring it, grannies. They give lessons so that you can bring your skillz to the "Knit One, Pray One" ministry that sews prayer shawls.

How I know I'm Southern...

My aunt fixed a scrumptious dinner tonight. My mom brought delectable wine. I did my part by thoroughly enjoying everyone's efforts. I was even late. Aunt said, "So, you wanted to feel like a princess, did you?" And, I kind of did... in an under cover way.

When we discussed my gig, we talked for over five minutes about hands and cuticles. My mom gave me some hand lotion out of her pocket book and my aunt told me to massage my cuticles with the cream and sleep in cotton gloves. Paper and filing are apparently the Anti-Christ of a good manicure. This is how I know I'm Southern. And, they approved of my smart outfit (chocolate brown merino turtleneck, brown tweed skirt that I made, my "riding" boots, and pearl earrings).

As for the job, it's eminently doable. The people are from a different tribe, but they are nice. My tribe/clan has suffered from diaspora-- come back, tribe, come back to me. Me lonely. Vancouver, Kingston, Boston, Seattle, DC, Austin, Iowa, seriously, when you could live in the QC with me? I am here roughing it with bad cuticles.

I really want to join a community garden that's convenient. The one I've found is a thirty minute drive one-way. Yowsers. And, you don't eat the food-- you give it away. Double yowsers. I'd want to at least sample the yumminess. Mark my words, I may not get married or have children, but I will have a goat before I die. Dream big, right?

I really want to have an urban farm. Maybe underneath my tweed, there's an unkempt hippy protesting the injustice of materialism and my misguided life. Give me goats or give Wal-Mart! And, I want a chicken coop, blueberries and tomatoes. That would be the beginning. What a fantastic beginning. I'd invite you over for breakfast, and while we ate organic oatmeal and sipped piping hot coffee, the goat would wake us up with her delightful, goatish antics.


1. fixed for cooked

valentine flowers & quilts & highlights

My brother sent my mom a bouquet. An elegant bouquet: roses, lilies, snazzy greenery, no carnations, no baby's breath. It was a proud moment to see what a fine young man my little brother has become. A) He sent flowers to his mom on Valentine's. B) He sent a classy bouquet-- it even smells good. My mom always jokes that J-D grew up with three moms because of my sister and me. I have to say that we did a good job: the boy is quality.


Because of J-D's bouquet and my budget, I took a different flower angle. I took Mom to lunch and the botanical garden. We had a good time and remarked how beautiful it will be in a couple of weeks. All these little green shoots are appearing in the beds. And, the crocuses have blossomed. I keep hoping for snow, but seeing the flowers worries me-- I don't want them to freeze.

Plus there was a quilt show at the garden. There were quilts of varying skill levels. This one was my absolute favorite. It's so imaginative and makes me think of my friends who make paper cranes. This quilt feels like a children's story to me. (I like how the garden encourages artists of all kinds; there was a photography contest as well. Beauty begets beauty. We are made in the image of our Maker.)

My theological book club kicks off this Saturday! I'm excited and a little nervous. It's going to be a small group this month, but I have 3 more slated to come in March. I hope it'll be fun, encouraging and challenging. We're going to discuss Bonhoeffer's Life Together. I had tremendous difficulty sending both emails to the group. I don't know if that's a sign of my technical ineptness or a little spiritual tackiness. Please pray if you have some spare intercession time.

I'm starting to teach poetry this week. Woohoo. I'm excited but know I shouldn't be because my kids hate it (and me). And, I need more ideas on how to teach South Africa. Last Friday, a girl asked me, "Why are we studying all these black people?" I answered, "Because we're studying Africa."

Whimsy on the 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time

I got up an hour after my alarm clock sounded and still managed to get to church ten minutes early. I chose a seat under St. Patrick's watchful eye. The sermon was on Job and Matthew; it stabbed my heart, matching what I read last night about work in Life Together.

I enjoy the sacred calendar's humor with the long haul of ordinary time. It meets me where I am emotionally: blah land. Oh, how I long for special time, but we're sanctified through the ordinary. Here are verses 2 and 3 from "O Christ, the Healer":

"From every ailment flesh endures
Our bodies clamor to be freed;
Yet in our hearts we would confess
That wholeness is our deepest need.

"How strong, O Lord, are our desires,
How weak our knowledge of ourselves
Release in us those healing truths
Unconscious pride resists or shelves."

This song was a reminder of Truth in the midst of the self-absorption that we term "post modernity" to relinquish our responsibility for our thought patterns. I love how we justify evil thought patterns, lifestyles and habits through one abstract phrase. I loved when a theologian referred to post modernity as a mood (I'd say a bad mood); how right he was.


On my way home, I turned left instead of my normal right and ended up at Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens. It was a fabulous sidetrack. I went ahead and joined the Garden; it's tax deductable and would provide a good Saturday and Sunday afternoon activity. Plus, if I bring friends, they get half off admission (let me know if you'd like to go with me). They're spotlighting orchids, which I love, and were having a bridal showcase, which meant a lot of free food-- good free food. Well, technically speaking it wasn't free, but close enough. I had no idea about the bridal showcase, but it was was festive to have all the musicians and caterers etc. At first, I was trying to be noble and not sample any of the food, but the vendors assumed I was a bride (and it's hard to control other people's assumptions).

So, I sampled and had a lot of fun witnessing the infamous bridezillas in action. My theory that weddings/marriage is an industry that provides a lot of income for these vendors and divorce lawyers was substantiated by all the hoopla. You'd never guess that a wedding was about a marriage from all the crap. That said, it was lovely and delicious crap. The guy who made me shrimp and grits was from Rochester, New York.

This was my favorite orchid. Notice how it has some water in its cup. How gorgeous and fabulous is that?

Then I ended up taking Virg to Charlotte and out for chilidogs, fries and a fountain coke tonight. I still have so much work to do, but the papers will get graded. Whereas, Virg is 86 and won't always be up for a ride on a lovely spring afternoon. There's a time when the theology one reads should metabolize into action, eh? Today's flowers and people were a reminder of how extraordinary our ordinary is. We're surrounded by the goodness of God.

other July 4th news

At our party, a woman I never met before said, "Your eggplant is a lovely plant. I mean, just as a plant." I took a liking to this lady. My Japanese eggplant is charming even if she only has one fruit. Then, I proceeded to tell the lady my favorite ways to cook this elegant vegetable. She listened politely.

Other garden updates, we ate the first squash and tomato on Wednesday. Quite tastey.

one-week mark

Masako, the eggplant, wins best performance in growing and first plant of the second batch to produce a blossom. Her leaves fascinate me (they have delicate thorns along the spine of each leaf; plus, they're very excitable/reactive).

First runner up goes to Golda. She has produced no blossom but a lot of leaves. She caused me panic at first because she wilted so much in the heat; she looked cooked. But, she's adapted and now thrives in the heat. Her leaves are dark and large.

Hillary the cucumber has made a sensational come back in my garden. She got dubbed Hillary due to her poor performance; the first day out, her two largest leaves turned white. I asked people what I was doing wrong, and nobody had a clue what had caused that phenomena. Now, if you were to look at her, you'd think I am an overprotective parent. She's gorgeous, busy growing.

Theodora, Medea, Kate, Elizabeth, Catherine and Teresa are in good spirits. Goliath the Gardenia is out of control; his branches are weighted down with his glorious blossoms. Peanut has produced another puny blossom.

DISASTER!

I mixed in a generous tablespoon of blue fertilizer to the gallon of water, but those were the directions for outdoor plants. Since my plants are in containers, they count as house plants. House plants get about half a teaspoon of fertilizer to a gallon. So far, the ladies are being total champs about the fiasco. So the Chief said, "Over fertilizing burns plants" just in case I wasn't feeling guilty enough. If they survive, they'll be stronger... and I'm guessing taller with singed roots.

While I was thumbing through one of the props for my budding faux Catholicism, I came across a groovy blessing:

Saranam (Refuge)
Receive our thanks for night and day
For food and shelter, rest and play.
Be here our guest and with us stay.
Saranam. Saranam. Saranam.

I have a busy, exciting day ahead of me.

naming ceremony

After talking with M on the phone for an hour, I decided I needed to name my vegetables. Precedent? The Chief named her gardenias: Goliath and Peanut. I soon got overwhelmed with what motif to name them. Are they girls or boys? What do you name vegetables? But, I needed to name them because, let's face it, it's way more fun to write about Goliath than "the large garenia plant".

Come to find out, my vegetable plants are girls because they're beautiful, productive hard workers. Let me introduce my cast of garden characters:

Catherine of Siena is Grape tomato plant #1.
Teresa of Avila is Grape tomato plant #2. Since there are two identical plants, I decided to name them after the two female doctors of the Church.

Elizabeth is the name of the heirloom tomato. Elizabeth the First.

Kate Bushnell is the squash container. Squash is prolific and travels just like Kate.

Golda Meir is the yellow bell pepper. So, it's a little punny, but there's no messing with this lady.

Medea is the organic red bell pepper. Hell hath no fury... and red is the color of passion. And, Euripides is my favorite Greek tragedian.

Theodora is the red bell pepper. A Byzantine empress with no aversion to blood.

Hojo Masako is the Japanese eggplant's name. She goes by Masako.

Athena, the gray-eyed goddess, is the peppermint.

Hera is the orange mint.

Hillary is the cucumber plant. She's tenacious but the heat's taking it out of her.

I decided to name them after historic and fictional women (excepting Hills) instead of friends because I would feel terrible and awkward if I killed Bonnie, for instance. Kate's already dead and Athena immortal: they can take the hits. Hills is used to it. Next year, when I'm a more experienced gardener, there will be a Betty for sure.

No doubt you'll be reading more about these lovely, ambitious ladies.

I was chatting with The Chief about the attrition rate. She clarifies, "By "attrition rate" you mean you're expecting some of them to die."

-Yes. Die or not produce.

-Well.

She wasn't pleased to hear my callous attitude about her great, great grandbabies. But, it needs to be noted that the Chief told me to keep a tally of expenses to see how much my latest adventure costs. It's as my brother says, "Being a hippy takes money." Along those lines, I told the high-school girl ringing me up at the nursery: "These sure are expensive vegetables." She avoided answering me by proceeding to tell me about her Grandma's garden.

Now, I need to read up on composting because it makes a lot of sense. I did it in Vancouver.

(Afterthought: Alas, I come across as a little crazy in this post.)

busy bee day

Today I buzzed with activity. My main project was my container garden: 2 grape tomato plants, 2 crook neck squash, red bell pepper, organic red bell pepper, yellow bell pepper, cucumber, orange mint, peppermint, japanese eggplant and a heirloom mountain tomato plant. I staked all the plants but the mint; for this, somebody told me, "You are an optimist." The seedlings do look silly tied to four-foot bamboo shoots. But, they'll grow... tall, strong... and straight. I also filled the containers with drainage pebbles and topped them with decorative pebbles to prevent as much evaporation as possible. You will be hearing about the vegetables and the gardenias, Goliath and Peanut. I should name the vegetables as well.

I also read in Acts. Paul had a lot of down time in his life (I consider jail downtime). I visited with G and then P in the hospital. Ran numerous errands of varying importance but with different levels of urgency. I watched the Belmont Stakes: man, imagine how happy the people are who bet on Da' Tara with 38:1 odds. Yowsers. I hate it for Big Brown and Eight Belles, but it was a solid race. The idea of a horse being worth $100,000,000 freaks me.

Tomorrow is another busy bee day, which is good. Projects energize me. Yay, sewing, gardening and writing club. I'm going to make a great octagenarian. I just need to learn how to play bridge.