Suddenly, miraculously, it seems we've stumbled into high summer here in New York City. July 4th has come and gone, we're plunging our way through yet another heat wave, and plants everywhere are panting for more water. This kind of weather can be hard on city-dwelling plants. They live in an oven of concrete, metal, gas, and exhaust. People swim by, lost in their own fog of sweat and deadlines. Even with all of this--given time, attention, care, and lots and lots of water-- the growing things of New York can thrive.
I present to you, our garden.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
The Difference a Month Makes
Just about over a month ago Kelsey and I decided we were ready to send our little indoor seedlings out into the world. We planted two straggly tomatoes and one squat king pepper. This was my first foray into large container gardening and frankly I wasn't completely convinced the plants would thrive. This how they looked when we first set them out:
By mid-June the city was gripped in heat. Kelsey and I succumbed to the greedy gods of the electric bill and put in our air conditioner. Each day after work I'd trudge out to water the increasingly dusty soil until I finally began waking up early to tend the garden. I had dreaded this point in the summer-- that thick transistion into high summer when I'd have to haul out to water my own plants before I dragged myself into Manhattan to water other people's plants all day long. In truth, this has become a precious part of my day. Watching my garden grow into the morning sunlight opens up a stretch of me that often closes the moment I step out of my house and begin the grind of pushing my way from one subway to another. There is not even a word for it. But there are pictures.
Since we set out our seedlings they have sprawled, ballooned, climbed, and exploded their way into something incredible. Look-- this is the difference a month makes.
Makes me think-- maybe we all grow that much, that fast, that raucously... there just might not be any pictures to prove it.
By mid-June the city was gripped in heat. Kelsey and I succumbed to the greedy gods of the electric bill and put in our air conditioner. Each day after work I'd trudge out to water the increasingly dusty soil until I finally began waking up early to tend the garden. I had dreaded this point in the summer-- that thick transistion into high summer when I'd have to haul out to water my own plants before I dragged myself into Manhattan to water other people's plants all day long. In truth, this has become a precious part of my day. Watching my garden grow into the morning sunlight opens up a stretch of me that often closes the moment I step out of my house and begin the grind of pushing my way from one subway to another. There is not even a word for it. But there are pictures.
Since we set out our seedlings they have sprawled, ballooned, climbed, and exploded their way into something incredible. Look-- this is the difference a month makes.
Makes me think-- maybe we all grow that much, that fast, that raucously... there just might not be any pictures to prove it.
by: Asia
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
union square flower spree
with $40 dollars as our budget and 17 empty tin cans + a chunk or two of flower bed to fill in the garden with color, we actually ventured into manhattan on a saturday (!) to the union square farmers market.
flowers so beautiful our eyes wanted to eat them. instead we FILLED an entire ikea bag with the most delicious dahlias, salvias,begonias and vines, ventured back to our brooklyn bungalow...
and ate summer squash and hotdogs with lemon spritzers.
planting pictures to come...
by: Kelsey
Monday, June 14, 2010
Surprises
We've had some surprises sprouting up here in Brooklyn. Not only have almost all our seeds come up into lovely dollops of seedlings, but there are wildflowers growing into every corner.First came a rose bush that climbed out of our neighbors backyard and over the fence, spilling wave after wave of delicate pink blossoms at the foot of our garden.
During the brief tide of these unbelievably fragrant flowers I clipped as many of the quickly wilting buds as I could and squirreled them away in our apartment. For two weeks I placed handful after handful of newly opening buds in jars and sat them on any available surface.
There are also shy purple flowers that have shot up in great waterfalls around the back of the garden. They only open their tiny violet faces in the afternoon sun so most days when I trudge home after work I've already missed the daily display.
There's also been some truly unique wildflowers that seems to just march over on their own and settle in just fine by themselves.
Take her for example.
Who is she?
What is she?
All I know is she's the only one of her kind out there and it don't seem like she cares one lick that she's all by her lonesome.
The real stunners in the garden, however, have been these pink wildflowers.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Thinning the Lettuce
Kelsey and I squatted down in the backyard to finally confront the overwhelming clumps of our garden's all star seedling-- grandpa admirer's lettuce.
With some real gentle maneuvering we thinned out the two modest rows of bushy heads and found that our count had multiplied into over fifty seedlings!
That's fifty heads of lettuce people!
Who wants some summer salad? By mid-July we'll be begging you all to become herbivores.
by: Asia
With some real gentle maneuvering we thinned out the two modest rows of bushy heads and found that our count had multiplied into over fifty seedlings!
That's fifty heads of lettuce people!
Who wants some summer salad? By mid-July we'll be begging you all to become herbivores.by: Asia
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Seedings
May was a tempermental mistress this month-- from freezing cold temperatures, to sweltering heat waves and even a prediction of hail! Each day we read the sky, tested the air, and consulted the internet. Can we plant the sage yet?? The rosemary? The tomatoes? Well, the patience and soothsaying paid off and we've got tons of little guys sticking their heads up.
and our early riser.... grandpa's lettuce!
and we finally had a cloudy sunday to plant all our seedlings. these little guys arrived via snail mail over a month ago from seed savers! Black eyed susans, lavender hyssop, ground cherries, peppers, and two lanky tomato plants.
by: Asia
and our early riser.... grandpa's lettuce!
and we finally had a cloudy sunday to plant all our seedlings. these little guys arrived via snail mail over a month ago from seed savers! Black eyed susans, lavender hyssop, ground cherries, peppers, and two lanky tomato plants.
by: Asia
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Our enemies
As a gardener you have many enemies. Villains like deer, cut worms, slugs, frost and sometimes even the dreaded freewheeling neighborhood child.
Our enemies however, have been narrowed down to just two.
Meet our archnemeses.
1. The Birds
In the winter I relished hearing the mourning doves coo at sunset. I counted myself lucky to wake up to a cacophony of song and swooping every morning. Sometimes I'd even stand with my coffee at the window and think about putting up a special little bird feeder. All that has changed.
Within a week of planting our marigolds the birds had beheaded each and every one. Friends told me to be rational-- why would the birds snip the tops off of flowers if they weren't going to eat them? Then i saw a crow pluck off the last orange bloom right before my eyes. This meant war.
I believe these birds are purposely, and maniacally, sabotaging my garden.
First I concocted a spray of water and cayenne and doused each last stub of Marigold. No dice.
Then, I got crafty and decided to make tin foil trees. Birds dislike shiny things, noisy things, and anything that might in any way resemble an owl or any other bird of prey. With this criteria in mind I came up with these extraterrestrial looking things:
I planted a whole new set of marigolds, each with a little silver martian tree by their side. They seem to be marginally working. I also caved in and bought a silver pinwheel (turns out that's what pinwheels were originally made for! amazing, the things you learn online).
Since these purchases the marigolds have remained largely untouched. The lavender has been picked down to its bones and I am officially terrified to remove any bird netting from my little seedlings.
2. The Pine Tree
Meet the monstrosity that houses each and every one of the rascals that are destroying my garden.
Growing like some sort of she-demon out of our
neighbors backyard, this tree literally dwarfs our apartment building. It covers half our yard in perpetual twilight, rains pine needles day and night and makes it's presence known by poisoning all the soil within twenty feet of its trunk. There is a semi circle in our backyard where not even weeds will grow.
We raked up and shipped off dozens of bags of pine needles and carefully planned out our garden to take advantage of the one square of ground where sunlight is able to sneak past the omnipresent pine.
Currently, the thing has now grown up into our fire escape. I can tell you one thing, pruners will be unsheathed very soon.
Sometimes I feel very much like Sisyphus, only instead of hauling a large stone I'm hauling large bags of soil and eying every bird who flies by with a wild, plotting suspicion.
by: Asia
Our enemies however, have been narrowed down to just two.
Meet our archnemeses.
1. The Birds
In the winter I relished hearing the mourning doves coo at sunset. I counted myself lucky to wake up to a cacophony of song and swooping every morning. Sometimes I'd even stand with my coffee at the window and think about putting up a special little bird feeder. All that has changed.
Within a week of planting our marigolds the birds had beheaded each and every one. Friends told me to be rational-- why would the birds snip the tops off of flowers if they weren't going to eat them? Then i saw a crow pluck off the last orange bloom right before my eyes. This meant war.
I believe these birds are purposely, and maniacally, sabotaging my garden.
First I concocted a spray of water and cayenne and doused each last stub of Marigold. No dice.
Then, I got crafty and decided to make tin foil trees. Birds dislike shiny things, noisy things, and anything that might in any way resemble an owl or any other bird of prey. With this criteria in mind I came up with these extraterrestrial looking things:
I planted a whole new set of marigolds, each with a little silver martian tree by their side. They seem to be marginally working. I also caved in and bought a silver pinwheel (turns out that's what pinwheels were originally made for! amazing, the things you learn online).
Since these purchases the marigolds have remained largely untouched. The lavender has been picked down to its bones and I am officially terrified to remove any bird netting from my little seedlings.2. The Pine Tree
Meet the monstrosity that houses each and every one of the rascals that are destroying my garden.
Growing like some sort of she-demon out of our
neighbors backyard, this tree literally dwarfs our apartment building. It covers half our yard in perpetual twilight, rains pine needles day and night and makes it's presence known by poisoning all the soil within twenty feet of its trunk. There is a semi circle in our backyard where not even weeds will grow.We raked up and shipped off dozens of bags of pine needles and carefully planned out our garden to take advantage of the one square of ground where sunlight is able to sneak past the omnipresent pine.
Currently, the thing has now grown up into our fire escape. I can tell you one thing, pruners will be unsheathed very soon.
Sometimes I feel very much like Sisyphus, only instead of hauling a large stone I'm hauling large bags of soil and eying every bird who flies by with a wild, plotting suspicion.
by: Asia
Friday, May 7, 2010
Day Two . Hello seeds meet soil .
one drizzly sunday afternoon, after many days of admiring our seedlings in the kitchen -it was time to get them grounded. so, we dug a little square for the mints (chocolate and spearmint):
and a corner for our bleeding hearts to neighbor rhonda, complementing her purples with chains of pink satiny purses.
dotted with yellow and purple violas in between.
then it was on to our empty beds and our soil.
oh our soil... a beautiful melange of blacks tans grays and reds. we squished it between our fingers until it blended to a creamy charred brown, and our fingers were frozen numb from the wet cold.
first we placed lady lavender, a seedling from union square green market.
and next our sun needy bee balm: microscopic seeds. to someday be herb plants with hot pink, red and white flower-bursts, irresistible to butterflies hummingbirds bumblebees and useful as a tea.
chives and parsley were the next.
each owning a patch of bed marked by a marigold.
we lined the edge of the large bed with 2 rows of lettuce seeds. and lastly sprinkled the edge of the smaller bed with chamomile seeds.
we topped the garden with mesh-screen squares to keep the birds from snacking on our work. and for now, that should bring you up to seed.....
by: Kelsey
and a corner for our bleeding hearts to neighbor rhonda, complementing her purples with chains of pink satiny purses.
dotted with yellow and purple violas in between.
then it was on to our empty beds and our soil.
oh our soil... a beautiful melange of blacks tans grays and reds. we squished it between our fingers until it blended to a creamy charred brown, and our fingers were frozen numb from the wet cold.
first we placed lady lavender, a seedling from union square green market.
and next our sun needy bee balm: microscopic seeds. to someday be herb plants with hot pink, red and white flower-bursts, irresistible to butterflies hummingbirds bumblebees and useful as a tea.
chives and parsley were the next.
each owning a patch of bed marked by a marigold.
we lined the edge of the large bed with 2 rows of lettuce seeds. and lastly sprinkled the edge of the smaller bed with chamomile seeds.
we topped the garden with mesh-screen squares to keep the birds from snacking on our work. and for now, that should bring you up to seed.....
by: Kelsey
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Day One
A few weeks ago Kelsey and I finally got up the gumption to face the tangled mess of brick and weed that was our backyard. Before we can update you on our latest trials and tribulations we have to take you back....
...to this.
This is what we had to work with: a crumbing garden path, clumps of weeds, and a humongous pine tree that grows like some sort of she-demon out of our neighbor's backyard.
Oh yeah, and the ghostly outline of some ancient beds:
My guess? I think this might have been some sort of WWII victory garden because as Kelsey began the painstaking 8-hour job of relaying the brick path, I began to dig out beds and between the two of us we unearthed dozens upon dozens of flaking orange bricks. Some of them were stamped with logos of old industrial companies, some simply said "Brooklyn" and some were mere dust. What we could salvage we stacked wherever we could find space:
As we worked we had various helpers (and non-helpers) wander in and out. Sebastian and his friends came over with two bags full of fruit and a hand juicer. They sat in the shade making various juice concoctions while Kelsey and I labored away, pausing every few minutes to get a shot of fresh grapefruit or orange juice.
Our longtime polish housekeeper showed up with plastic bags for our accumulated piles of weeds. Even though she speaks only the tiniest lick of English somehow-- through gestures, pointing, and thick-sounding pseudo-English words-- she began ordering us around in the garden. After she left our eighty-five year old landlord Mary came out to comment. "She thinks she's the boss!" Mary complained in her long, drawn-out Brooklyn accent.
Mary has lived here her whole life. She grew up only a block away and moved into our building when she married her husband, who spent his childhood in our tiny apartment with his eight other siblings, parents, and grandparents. She has a deep connection to this place and I think she had a hard time seeing us dig up her backyard. Change, even if it's for the better, can sometimes be pretty terrifying. I caught her more than once staring out at us from behind her lacy curtain windows. We're hoping once we can lay fresh flowers and herbs on her doorstep she'll change her mind.
Finally, after a long day of toil Kelsey had worked her magic on the garden path and I had dug out two beds and a border.
We also put in our first plant-- a beautiful new purple rhododendron named Rhonda!
After every last stretch of sunshine had disappeared from our backyard and it was getting to be dinner time Sebastian showed up as our handy-man-in-shining-armor to put together the wood for our new raised beds.
Sun burnt, exhausted, and feeling highly accomplished, we dragged ourselves upstairs a little past eight. From our fire escape we looked down on our newly minted beds, the rows of straightened brick, and rhonda sitting sleepily in her twilight corner of the garden. It was a good day.
by: Asia
...to this.
This is what we had to work with: a crumbing garden path, clumps of weeds, and a humongous pine tree that grows like some sort of she-demon out of our neighbor's backyard.
Oh yeah, and the ghostly outline of some ancient beds:
My guess? I think this might have been some sort of WWII victory garden because as Kelsey began the painstaking 8-hour job of relaying the brick path, I began to dig out beds and between the two of us we unearthed dozens upon dozens of flaking orange bricks. Some of them were stamped with logos of old industrial companies, some simply said "Brooklyn" and some were mere dust. What we could salvage we stacked wherever we could find space:
As we worked we had various helpers (and non-helpers) wander in and out. Sebastian and his friends came over with two bags full of fruit and a hand juicer. They sat in the shade making various juice concoctions while Kelsey and I labored away, pausing every few minutes to get a shot of fresh grapefruit or orange juice.
Our longtime polish housekeeper showed up with plastic bags for our accumulated piles of weeds. Even though she speaks only the tiniest lick of English somehow-- through gestures, pointing, and thick-sounding pseudo-English words-- she began ordering us around in the garden. After she left our eighty-five year old landlord Mary came out to comment. "She thinks she's the boss!" Mary complained in her long, drawn-out Brooklyn accent.
Mary has lived here her whole life. She grew up only a block away and moved into our building when she married her husband, who spent his childhood in our tiny apartment with his eight other siblings, parents, and grandparents. She has a deep connection to this place and I think she had a hard time seeing us dig up her backyard. Change, even if it's for the better, can sometimes be pretty terrifying. I caught her more than once staring out at us from behind her lacy curtain windows. We're hoping once we can lay fresh flowers and herbs on her doorstep she'll change her mind.
Finally, after a long day of toil Kelsey had worked her magic on the garden path and I had dug out two beds and a border.
We also put in our first plant-- a beautiful new purple rhododendron named Rhonda!
After every last stretch of sunshine had disappeared from our backyard and it was getting to be dinner time Sebastian showed up as our handy-man-in-shining-armor to put together the wood for our new raised beds.
Sun burnt, exhausted, and feeling highly accomplished, we dragged ourselves upstairs a little past eight. From our fire escape we looked down on our newly minted beds, the rows of straightened brick, and rhonda sitting sleepily in her twilight corner of the garden. It was a good day.
by: Asia
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