Jenn And The City Has Moved

Effective immediately, you may find us here

http://jennandthecity.net/

There is still some development going on, but there are also pages devoted to my other endeavors, which may be of interest.

I will make arrangements on that page so you may subscribe to that blog just like you do here.

Herb Horrors and Tomato Trauma

Friday dawned beautiful and sunny here North of the Space Needle. Yet, despite my Thursday trek to Fred Meyer to purchase seedling herbs, baby patio tomatoes, peppers and enough dirt to create my own mountain range, my thumb was not green.

I tried guilt, which usually works. “If you don’t plant them, they will die. That will be wasteful.” This tactic just succeeded in making me all stressed out about my lack of motivation.

I tried justification. “I can do this tomorrow, when Rob is about to watch the puppy”. Never mind, Rob is not home tomorrow. I simply do not know what is wrong with my motivation. Part of my current anxiety issues seem tied up in motivation, a tangle of blackberry brambles that don’t come un-stuck and stab you when attempt to get involved with them.

Finally I set up Morgan’s ex-pen, popped in some toys, got my shovel and my Big Ole Bag of Dirt and started working. Now, Big Ole Bag of Dirt comes with its own story. I pride myself on my ability to sling a 40# bag of dogfood like it was Styrofoam. So a Big Ole Bag of Dirt from Home Depot, no es problema, macha chica. But let me just ‘splain something Lucy – 2 cu. ft. of potting soil weighs just over 56#. And it is dead weight. Practically impossible to manipulate. I put on my Jenn And The City cowboy boots and got out my lariat and wrassled that baby into the bottom of my cart. Lipstick running, mascara halfway down the face, and sweat pouring from the roots of my hair, but we got that baby in the cart in 8 seconds. Okay, maybe 8 minutes.

So back to my herb garden. I get the brick tiers set up, I dig out the old dirt, I open Big Old Bag of Dirt and start to fill in the tiers. Bottom tier (curry, thyme, dill, oregano and rosemary) go in no problem. Second tier (chives, lavender, cilantro) mostly go in fine. Except we run out of, wait for it, Big Old Bag of Dirt.

Back to Home Depot. Much, much smarter. This time I get TWO Big Old Bags of Dirt. And I do my hair and wear a low cut shirt. Batting eyelashes at Hot Young Man, “please do you think you could help me with some Big Old Bags of Dirt”? Ah Ha! So this is how it’s done. Dirt loaded into cart and delivered and loaded to car by Hot Young Man. Much, much, easier.

Back at home, tier three is easily pulled together (sage and basil). Then I put together my veggie pots. I grow tomatoes on the patio, no because I like tomatoes, but because I like how the plants smell. Same with the curry in the herb garden, hate curry, love how the plant smells. Two patio tomatoes and one green pepper later, the patio pots are deck-ready. They bask happily in the sun until I glance out the window. Tara is happily uprooting one of the tomatoes, chewing the stem and throwing the corpse off the deck. Much screaming (me) and chaos (whippets) ensues. Whippets are confined inside until I can whippet-proof the tomatoes. An elaborate burial for the deceased tomato is hosted by the yard compost bin. A spare jalapeno takes its place in the tomato pot. And now my patio garden looks like this.

Today I’m supposed to put in wildflowers, sunflowers, and arnica. But it’s dawning cloudy and cool. And I have no motivation.