Gardening

This week is spring break. The semester becomes so busy; it is a great luxury to have a break. As our break is tied to the Easter holiday, for the past several years it has been so late in the semester, it has been more of an annoyance then anything else. I am trying to use this time to best advantage, so if I feel like doing nothing, it is ok, for now.

Monday I put in my garden, though it is a tiny square of earth, I do love it. This year I began it in earlier then ever. So far, I have planted crocuses, pansies, and violas. They are bright and happy looking! I need to find some plants for the mostly shady area, however I dislike Hostas, and haven’t discovered my ideal plant yet. This little garden space and activity makes me feel connected to Grandpa Gray, and my memories of him.

I also remember Grandma Gray, and her struggle to keep the garden up to Grandpa’s standards after he died. The first spring, she worked by herself to put everything to rights, and when thinking she was done, went to do errands. On the way out of K-Mart she spied shelves full of yellow pansies, Grandpa’s favorite. She bought an entire flat, and planted those in the garden too. In memory of this loving and tender memory, I always plant yellow pansies.

Though I regularly rake, weed, and turn over the soil, my plot consistently yields rocks, bits of old odd things, screws, and chunks of glass, as befits the yard of a 100+ year old tenement building. It is curious that the earth sends up signals from the past beneath. As I weed, water, and plant I wonder about the history of this space, who has worked it, and what else has gone on here. When 1120 is sold new owners, will work and play in that much beloved garden. I wonder what little clues to its’ past the new owners will find. I hope the garden’s many happy years will speak loudly to the new owners. My greatest hope is that they love, cherish, and use it, embracing the model that has been in place these many decades.