The house sits on two acres. I'd guess that 1.5 of those are wooded, the remaining 1/2-acre is grass. It's too large of an area to mow by myself, especially because there are some steep hilly areas. But I do it anyway. For now, while I'm young and foolish. It took me about three hours today - with a couple of breaks to do some weeding - and the casualties include two nasty blisters, one on the inside of each thumb. This would all go much easier if I had a weed whacker for the hills - people driving by must get a kick out of watching the little Oriental girl wrestle with the push mower - but all I've got right now is what I inherited from my father's garage (the mower came from him, as did all my garden tools), which is an electric whacker, and not near enough orange electrical cord to get me around a half-acre. (I am, for the record, in the midst of an email bargaining exchange with someone selling a gas-powered whacker in Rockland.)
Speaking of inherited goods....a curious symbiosis has developed between city and country: almost every piece of furniture in the house is a found object, including an arm chair, a TV, a microwave oven, a CD tower, a lamp, and a footstool/ottoman all found on the curbsides of NYC. I think I already mentioned that we collect food scraps and coffee grinds in the Bronx, bag them up, and toss them on the compost pile here. We burn our paper in the wood-burning stove, but we haul the bottles and cans back to the city (hey, I'm paying city taxes up the you-know-what, so I'm thinking I'm entitled) where I dump them in the recycling cans (which I personally organized and labeled!).
Today, I also wrote to a guy who runs a CSA farm nearby. I read that this particular farm considers workshares, and I think I might like the chance to see how a small farm works, could put in some hours - in exchange for my box of veges. We'll see - it's already late in the season. In the meantime, Alice's farm stand, about two miles from here, is bustling. Look at these gorgeous carrots.
I do have a garden here, and a number of container plants. I grow mostly veges, maybe over time I'll get to the flowers and shrubs (a lilac bush is first on my list, maybe some bulbs around the borders). So there's a lot more to tend to than just an orchid out here. Which brings me to my second title for this post: Nora Ephron apparently feels bad about her neck. Me, I feel bad about my hands. They're awful - calloused, dry, knuckly (and now, blistery). NYC women have such lovely hands (and feet). I'm not sure how they do it. I suppose I could do as a friend of mine does and at least wear rubber gloves when I do dishes. But when it comes to gardening, there will be no gloves; the whole point - the joy - is actually digging your hands into the dirt.
I found the Annie Dillard piece about moths: it's called Holy the Firm and is one of the most intensely beautiful and profound pieces of writing I have ever encountered. I am going to re-read it and may be back with some thoughts.
1 comment:
Hm, I admire your yard endeavors from a distance. I almost can say I've never mowed a lawn. 6 years into owning a house, I've only once pushed the manual mower (that husband abandoned in favor of inherited gas mower) around our little city front lawn. After we move to suburbs this summer, I most certainly do NOT expect to mow the significantly larger lot. (I have no concept of acre figures, naturally, being a city girl.) I DO feel bad about my hands!!! Mostly, they are just dry and wrinkled and tanned from driving in my car. They look my age. I will check out the Annie Dillard writings.
Post a Comment