Why it is, Part II

In our area of the Mountains (perhaps Mountain People everywhere?) people are here because they have issues. DH Matt, for example, is a graduate of Duke U, in only 3 years, who eschews his white-collar roots and prefers to work with his hands. In this area they call men like him Cousin Jacks. It's not a derogatory term. Men who chose to stay in the mountain are, by necessity, Jacks-of-All-Trades. They are uniformly , as I have met them, bright, versatile, and unconventional. It also implies a man who mines gold, which DH does if you call, as they do here, dredging for gold (in water with air lines and wet suits, brrrr) "mining". Most Cousin Jacks don't make good husbands; they drink or gamble or otherwise carry on as if it's still 1849. I'm very fortunate in my DH, he's terrific. Now, gold mining, as I have experienced it as the wife who stays home, involves a lot of hiking, manly stuff like camping, time in the water moving rocks, and only pays for beer and gas. Do you know, fellow female humans, that men DO talk about sex if they're away from civilization? I hear it stays really polite for at least a week (snort). DH has also renovated Victorians,poured concrete foundations, and very successfully bought and sold property. He's still weird, although in a buffed, cute, manly sort of way that's often covered with dirt.

I also have issues. Some people say that DH's main issue is that he's married to me. I'm not weird in an awful way..no drugs, I care for my family, I'm fiscally and socially responsible. But, I see things other people don't see. NO, I don't see dead people....well, only once and that was 30 of them and more like a party. Maybe I'll tell you the story one day. You can ask me about the dragon I met in China, too. Maybe (coy smile) I'll tell you about it. For the record, I've lived in 3 haunted houses (we live in the paranormal capital of the U.S., of course) and other people have seen the ghosts, not me.

No, I see other things, and in their own way they're pretty haunting. For instance, years ago before I met DH I had a sudden STRONG yen to buy renter's insurance...I'd rented for years and never had insurance. The day after the insurance kicked in my place caught fire while I was gone...a faulty antiquated floor heater. The insurance was just enough to see me through while repairs were made. Another funny thing, my insurance company couldn't find me a place to stay, all of their usual contract hotels were booked up. I walked, as if in a dream state, made one phone call, and had the best place they'd ever seen for their insurance rate for the entire 45 days I needed it. Another strange thing...I'd been accumulating cash...never had it before or after. It was just enough to pay the 45 days hotel rental until the insurance company could reimburse me.So, once doesn't make me too weird, just maybe lucky.

We're not survivalists... I don't know how to fire a gun, or even own one yet. All that noise and potential violence does not appeal. I do know that it would be good to learn how to use at least an air rifle; the bears and the mountain lions here can be something. I've already faced down a mountain lion, and I've seen what a bear can do to a place. We had one knock a huge cedar pole down to get into the garden last year because I had a smelly manure type fertilizer. I can't use bone meal or blood meal fertilizer for the same reason. We're considering a concrete bunker for our potential chickens because the bears like to rip out the wall and eat the chickens like popcorn. Yeah, gross blog, but if you minded gross you wouldn't still be reading. We have a campground right below us, and the bears saunter through on their way to raid the campground. Bears love smelly diapers, he/she was disappointed that it was dry manure. That's why we don't dare grow corn here. A bear will travel a hundred miles for corn. People here also don't put those darling lever style handles on their doors. The bears walk right in.

So, confession time. I grow terrific tomatoes. Prize winning roses. Okay for eggplant and peppers, and if you know me at all you'll find a bag of zucchini and green beans on your doorstep every week in summer. But, I have never successfully grown spring or fall/winter crops. Even my fava beans were only a partial success, and anyone can grow those. Lettuce? Has never happened. I slink into the grocery in summer and stealthily purchase lettuce, while everyone else I know grows it by the ton. Peas? Same story. Never, after (mumble, mumble) years of trying. So last night I placed my first order for winter seeds. Who knew that there was even a category for that?

I think that a little background info is necessary here, before I continue. My grandparents on both sides lived on farms. They were terrible farmers. This is understandable when you realize that they were trust fund studs and melting debutantes before the Great Depression. When the dust cleared they had a little land left and no skills. The next generation, my parents, dusted off the farm as soon as they could and found refuge in college. My mother reluctantly raised a few tomato plants in my childhood. I have a few books; Four Season Gardening, Root Cellaring, and Seed Savers. I have a few fuzzy memories of feeding chickens at my grandmother's house...being chased by roosters and geese...and shelling peas with grandma, which she then boiled to mush.

DH Matt and I are also not Back to Earthers. We know a bunch of them, children of the 60's and 70's who came up here to make communes and grow dope and kids. They are a hoot, but not great gardeners either. Some of them can make marijuana do things that my high school friends and I never dreamed of. Not that our little WASP petrie dish had big designs or dreams in any direction.
DH Matt and I eventually found ourselves in the crowded expensive Bay Area. Where we individually dreamed of Getting Out and eventually met each other. So, our collective goal is the pursuit of happiness through meaningful living. Which brings us to beets.

There are certain winter vegetables which I have tried on my family at dinner (purchased vegetables,of course). Certain vegetables, as a consequence, are grounds for divorce. For the record, I believe that beets and brussel sprouts are the only grounds for divorce that my DH has ever stated. Now, I love brussel sprouts. Other women sneak ice cream or chocolate. Me, brussel sprouts because DH and DS don't even want to smell them cooking. But, I Have never successfully grown them. Broccoli once, but then it brought every bad bug in from miles around, served up one little bunch and went to seed.

So, seed order is in. Lots of people giving me advice, and all of it different. Understand, I didn't undertake this venture only on my own; a dear friend and I vowed to do this at the same time, and even swapped seeds. I saw her garden today. I think I'm over-doing things; my garden is three times the size of hers. All those seeds we swapped, I planted and she didn't. I feel over-something,
over compensating for a faded debutante background perhaps? Over-committed? Over-whelmed? I should have known, actually. I've seen perennial gardening at her house in past years but not even a tomato. This year she had a least a dozen tomatoes (you do not want to know my tomato count. let's just say that I'll be freezing and canning still in October) which is a huge leap forward for her. I do feel somehow cheated, though. Dear friend has 3 kids and I expected her to lead (by example) through utilizing those kids as farm labor. Then I could send my own hothouse flower out to harvest beans with a cheerful conscience and countenance. My DS hothouse flower has deviously volunteered to learn Farsi this summer and to take 2 computer courses. Have I been outflanked?