branching out

today i ate my first sunchoke. i pulled it out of a pot in my garden last weekend when i was transplanting. i sauteed it in a little olive oil with salt and pepper. it was delicious. it would make a great replacement for potato in scalloped or au grating potatoes.

yesterday i tasted my first bolivian sunroot at a book signing and lecture with pam pierce (author of golden gate gardening and wildly successful plants). as she told us, it was like a cross between jicama and watermelon (tasted closer to the jicama).

and then there was the farmer's market this morning... i picked up a purple kohlrabi. i've never cooked a kolrabi, but i'm ready to learn. ooo... epicurious has two awesome looking recipes: roasted kohlrabi with butternut squash and sauteed kale with kohlrabi. yum!

there are a lot more wonderful plants out there to grow than the standard tomato, zucchini and bell peppers if you can figure out what to do with them, and this year, i plan to give a few more of them a place in my garden.

dreaming under a flowering tree

yesterday i headed over to orchard supply to buy some organic citrus fertilizer (my lemon hasn't held a bloom or set fruit in several season) and a pair of pruning shears. i came home with a four-foot, bareroot weeping santa rosa plum.

i have to say, i only hesitated for a moment as i wondered if it met my resoloutions and would fit in with my life. was it worth the cost of precious space that had been planned for annual veggies? and then i thought about my resolutions, specifically number three: i will plant a few things just because they make me smile.

but the truth is, that isn't the only reason i chose this plant. it is, after all, edible, and not just edible but as a tree rather than an annual it is significantly more low maintenance and provides larger harvests year after year. and yes, plum are something i love to eat.

but still, it wasn't just that. it was this: i am in the process of trying to buy a house. a small home with space for a large garden in a town that feels like the perfect combination of urban and rural, close enough to drive to all the big-city attractions san francisco has to offer, yet far enough out to feel out of the chaotic fray. a place that is inexpensive enough to afford even on a gardener and writer's income (or the nursery-worker's salary) and has rental potention until i am able to cut the corporate cord.

so just where is this home i hope to own? in santa rosa, of course. so you see, it's not just a beautiful flowering tree, or a source of sweet fruit that i can share and enjoy. it's a symbol of the life i hope to have some day, that i work toward tirelessly with every thought and every cubible hour spent.

right now, that little tree is uprooted and bare of leaves, with several thin limbs twisted or broken from its journey to the nursery, but inside it carries so much life and the potential for so much abundance.

gardener dreaming

the brightly colored seed catalogs have started arriving at my door, bringing with them dreams of spring. there are so many gorgeous options but i have so little space. if i want to try anything new i either need to get a lot more creative with space planning or make some hard decisions about which plants will and will not come back this year.

definitely staying:
- tree fern
- split-leaf philodendron
- shindeshojo japanese maple
- shiroshima bamboo
- pygmy date palm
- artichoke
- rhubarb (need new home)
- arum italicum (need new home)
- gardenia (needs new home)

on the chopping block:
- lemon tree
- peony
- tomatoes
- beets
- sunchokes
- horseradish
- basil and other herbs

waiting in the wings:
- black bamboo
- lemon & orange treelings which were purchased for work

i'm beginning to believe i just don't have the temperament (or maybe it's just the time) for annual veggetables. i prefer plants that come back year after year, getting larger and stronger and more prolific with each passing season.

today i hope to get out and plant (and transplant). on this sunny, chilly winter day between rainstorms, it seems the perfect thing to do.

a gardener's resolutions

this year i will buy only what i can plant and plant only what i will eat.
this year i will not let my life get in the way of tending my garden.
this year i will plant a few things just because they make me smile.
this year i will share the abundance with others.
this year i will remember that it is just as important to feed your soul as your body and that a well-chosen plant can do both and more.

happy new year.

the power of the flower

this weekend i took a few days away from the office and drove up the coast to a town called timber cove, known mostly for its thick fog, biting winds and breathtaking views. the vacation rental i stayed in clung to the edge of a cliff overlooking a still-water cove filled during the day with abalone fishers and at night with glittering reflected moonlight.

the weather those four days was practically a miracle: bright, sunny and without a breath of wind. perfect for wandering around coast sides and meadows and gardens. the plants that grow wild on the northern California coast are so different from what i plant in my own garden (lush, green tropicals), and i was amazed to see how many different colors and textures even just grass can be. but mostly i found myself focused on the flowers. tiny yellow, petal-less dainties tucked into sidewalks, spidery, lavender blooms crouched at the base of jumbled rocks, tall, ghostly yarrow standing strong above shimmering grass… it was as though they’d been invisible until that moment and suddenly there they were. and they were beautiful.

i don’t have many flowers in my garden, beyond those that precede fruit. with the exception of a single peony whose buds will never unfurl thanks to over water i haven’t planted a single one. i need to change that. i need to give the butterflies, bees, birds and other beneficials a reason to alight. and i need to give myself something simple and beautiful to enjoy.

why i garden

a few weeks back one of my twitter followers asked me what my favorite thing about gardening is. i didn't answer right away. there are just so many things i love about it. the smell of damp soil. the stunning variability in the color green. the way that the scent of a tomato plant can stay on your skin all day. the way even the hardest of work makes you hurt in all the right ways. the way it inspires you to breathe deeper and easier. the way lilacs always remind me of one grandmother and calla lilies the other. the overwhelming, rich abundance a garden gifts us with in terms of beauty, joy, food, shelter, perfume, habitat... but none of those are what i love best.

what i love best is participating in the act of creation. taking a seed, a leaf, a stalk, a stem and transforming it into another plant. and then standing by to help it grow, blossom, fruit and deliver next season's seeds. more seeds than one person could ever use, practically demanding that we leave our tiny corners of our tiny worlds to go out and share.

creation is the only antidote to the distruction that runs rampant in our world. literature, art, music... they can inspire the mind and free the soul. but the garden. it can do all that and more. it can literally, physically sustain you. keep you alive. the work of my hands can feed this body, the bodies of my friends, my family. the work of many hands can feed the world.

ah, books

today two books i ordered several weeks ago arrived. the first one i saw on PBS. i watched the philadelphia episode over and over. and now i can flip through the pictures over and over and read about the other cities as i go.



the second just spoke to me. i started reading it as soon as the envelope was opened. only a few sentences since i was sitting in my cubicle at work at the time, but just those few words were lovely. i can't wait to read more.