Waiting For The Light Of Spring

OK, I'm not, but lots of people are. This feels like a restless time of winter. People are getting tired of the rain and clouds and meager pools of light. Me? I'm in no hurry for spring. I have this whole tree situation to work out. I need to get a definitive report on what is going on with them (I'm pretty sure it's some form of fruit tree canker but there's, like, a thousand different varieties...so which is it?) I have put in a formal request for information from the master gardening group. My mentor didn't know. So it could be a week before I find out.

I also need time to plan out different parts of my garden. I have a lot of space and I want to use it efficiently and beautifully. Form+function=perfection.

Once again, in class yesterday, we had the guy who usually teaches children and seems to believe that if it's good for kids, it's good for adults. I swear this guy must eat Lucky Charms for breakfast and wear Power Ranger undies. He prefaces every sentence with "When I'm teaching children..." or "Kids love this activity..." or "I always do this activity with the kids..." or "Kids love this..."

IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED: I AM A FAT MIDDLE AGED WOMAN, NOT A CHILD!!!!!!!

I didn't like being a kid when I was a kid, so I am not an adult who relishes silly kid activities. Am I unusual that way?

Seriously, he doesn't know how to teach adults. I had a very hard time not screaming. Yes, the challenges of my Master Gardening course are surprising. Not at all the challenges I expected to have.

It is also painfully clear to me that what I think is beautiful in the garden is not at all what some other gardeners find beautiful in theirs. The first three hours were taken up with learning about "xeriscaping" in which you plant your landscape according to watering zones and try to have zones that need little or not watering at all. I think water conservation is very important but I just don't think ornamental native shrubs are going to serve my kitchen well. There are two or three kinds of flowering currants that are very drought tolerant but when I asked "do they produce edible fruit" the instructor said "They produce some fruit, yes." So I clarified "Do they produce delicious fruit?" She demurred. She hemmed. She hawed. I think she joked that the birds like them.

I am impatient to learn what I came to learn.

Luckily for me the second half of the day (right after the child-man's presentation) we got to hear about "lasagne" gardening, a sustainable method of gardening that not only keeps more of your household waste from ending up in a landfill but also sustains a healthier back by keeping you from deep tilling your clay dirt. The guy who gave this talk made lots of bad jokes but I loved him for his passion about sustainable gardening and for wanting everyone to grow as much of their own food as cheaply as possible. My friend Lisa B. is doing lasagne gardening and I have been thinking about implementing some of it in my own yard.

I wanted to stand up and shout "Right On Brother!!" just like my parents must have done at political rallies in their day. I looked around the class and I have to report a little disappointment at the response this talk garnered (glassy stares that constantly surreptitiously scouted out the bright pink cupcakes and other offerings on the snack table).

The next speaker was also speaking to my own heart. She was dressed up in pioneer clothing (well made and historically correct, I might add) and although I'm not sure that her portrayal of a pioneer woman really would have stood up in a movie, she charmed me. Her whole talk was about winter gardening. Well, you don't have to tell me twice to get my winter garden going on time this year! I kept wanting to stand up and say "Sing It Sister!" like an out of place athiest feeling God in a Baptist Gospel Choir. She's a home-schooler so I'm thinking that she must be known by some of my friends. I can't say that everyone else there was as excited as I was by the possibility of going out in the sleet to cut a basket of homegrown produce...but we got some great tools for planning our winter gardens.

Lots of grumbling about the rain. Lots of desire for spring expressed.

Now I want to say a word about the peanut gallery that lives in my head: as most of you know, I am not a lesbian. I only want to say that so that you will understand the non-lascivious nature of the likes and dislikes I develop for people, both men and women, which often manifest themselves as little child like crushes. When I dislike people it's also generally pretty childish. I rarely dislike people in a malevolent manner. So, as I spend seven hours in the company of forty other people there is always a running commentary in my head that goes something like this:

(someone comes in the door a little late-)

"I like you. You have great teeth."

(someone grabs my attention with weird question-)

"ACK!" (gasp of horror) "You look exactly like the Grinch and I'm scared of you."

(Grinchy person still talking-)

"Plus, you're squinting at me."

(person who came in late who has great teeth sits behind me and I eavesdrop-)

"I like you. Yes I do. How come you're so pretty? How did you get such wonderfully shaped teeth? Would you adopt me as your niece?"

(someone walks past vision-)

"Are you for real? Oh my, those pants won't do at all!"

(someone engages in light conversation-)

"I don't like you. You really need to stop coloring your hair and wearing it like a defensive helmet."


See what I mean? There are a couple of people I like in class and every time they come in my view my peanut gallery repeats it's feelings about them. I would not survive in public if these running thoughts could be heard. I am lucky that I don't have some disorder in which I blurt out these unfortunate pronouncements. I'm pretty happy not to hear what everyone is thinking about me because I know I'm an oddity and among other things I have the queer habit of speaking out of the side of my mouth like a film noir gangster. I never noticed this until a friend video taped me when I was in my twenties. I was so embarrassed and couldn't figure out how anyone could keep themselves from talking about it.

I'm happy to say that the voices in my head have never directed me to do evil in the world. In fact, they never direct me at all. Do any of you remember the Muppets? You know those two critics who sit in the theater commenting on everything? That's exactly what the peanut gallery in my head is like: two grumpy old man-muppets running off at the mouth.

It's extraordinary how often the commentaries revolve around teeth.

I have a tooth thing, for anyone who didn't know that.

And no, my "thing" for teeth is not a love of Hollywood white/straight teeth. I do enjoy white teeth (though my own are quite yellow) though that is hardly my main criteria for tooth-admiration. I have a complicated set of criteria for tooth admiration. Sometimes teeth can be pleasingly crooked and it angers me when people with gorgeously crooked teeth get them capped or straightened, but there are certainly some crooked teeth that are not so gorgeous. I also very much enjoy gaps in front teeth which both my mom and sister were blessed with and got "fixed".

I could never explain the tooth thing. But right now I have a fascination for a lady in my class who is the only truly lovely person there and my fascination is 85% centered around her teeth. I could look at them all day.

So go now, my friends, and know that you are not the weirdest blogger out there! Take heart! Know that there are fat middle aged tooth fetishists out there who will trump your weirdness any day!*





*I am acutely aware that there are many weirder people out there than me. But sometimes it's good to embrace one's weirdness and just shove it out in the public eye for examination.