Shy of 70

Jack Deatherage

(7/2023) A year shy of 70 this month I've begun to notice clichés should be scoffed at less often than I once believed. "With age comes wisdom," is one I used to hear as a kidlet, though not so much since I've reached the age of majority. Thinking the wise may have finally realized some of us are incapable of gaining wisdom, I dug deeper into the origin of the cliche. Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) supposedly added, "but sometimes age comes alone." While Oscar speaks to me, I can't help but wonder, are most people gaining age but not wisdom?

"Timing is everything." Now there's an excuse I've often used for accomplishing nothing! Yet I know a fellow who had his dead-end, self-destructive routine flipped so dramatically that he took off in an unexpected direction. He mastered his addictions, reeducated himself, set goals and one by one achieved them. Half my age, he's shown me that timing is everything, and "keeping one's nose to the grindstone" also is everything.

"Next year's garden will be better." -a Yahoo! Gardening group member and likely every gardener that's ever argued with Nature.

Several people, some I know, most I've not met before this summer, have taken time to tell me how great the new community garden looks. Looking at the garden as it is, I wonder but seldom ask, "What the hell are you seeing?" Enter "perception is reality".

We all see a vacant lot the town occasionally allows parking on and summerly mows. We may agree on the lot's potential use as a community garden, but from there? Great? Naw.

I stand at the rain barrels waiting on a tap to fill the watering can as I survey what little we've accomplished. I guess I can allow that some people, without my expectations of perfection, see a garden where I see mostly disturbed soil, incompetent gardening techniques, a lack of practical design and a rushed, underfunded beginning. Sure, the raised beds we bought look nice, or at least planted, but even those aren't what I'd envisioned. To me the entire garden looks like a stick figure pencil sketch of Hieronymus Bosch’s "The Last Judgment".

Contemplating the task I've assigned to myself and the DW (not that she wanted the work) I realize the town is struggling with funding for water issues, citizens are being hit with increased fees and general inflation. It's the wrong time to approach the town asking for money, labor or materials for a community garden only a few people are volunteering to work in as their busy lives allow.

All the excuses needed to escape the project are in place. Except- "keeping one's nose to the grindstone" is everything.

Building the next phase of the garden's evolution currently relies on our annual household income surviving the 2023 property tax increase, the 17 years old Buick's transmission not crapping out until we've enough cash in the bank to have it replaced or rebuilt, the reliance on other people to do the heavy lifting my body can no longer manage, the lack of a vehicle capable of fetching cubic yards of mulch, compost, straw bales, tillers, stock tanks, concrete blocks, lumber, fencing, hog panels for creating arches and the gods know what else to the garden. Coupled with an insatiable need for regular naps and the DW's fanatical weeding ability finally beginning to take its toll on her back, it seems a good time to decide the timing for building a community garden isn't right!

"If not me, who? If not now, when?" to drastically paraphrase Rabbi Hillel the Elder (110 BC–10 AD). Drat!

As I once told my friend- the Jewish girl with a manicure, "Now I know why people hate Jews. Ya all make us think about how and why we could be better."

Stumbling along the edge of the annual flowerbed, trying to give all the struggling seedlings enough water to get through the next day's sun and breeze, I realize we should have planted flowering bulbs and perennial flowers. I remind myself we needed to get something started quickly and funds were limited. Dozens of seed packets cost multiples less than nursery seedlings and the selection of flower seeds is nearly limitless compared to nursery stock.

Crocus, daffodils, tulips blooming in the spring, various irises chasing after. Trumpet and Asiatic lilies, daylilies as summer approaches. Cut-and-come-again annuals mingling among the fading spring flowers as the summer dwindles into autumn. We haven't reached mid-season and I'm already rethinking what next year's garden should be. Which is ridiculous.

Finishing this year's gardening is mostly a matter of routine now. Water, weed, watch for disease and pests- deal with each in its turn, harvest and note what worked, what can be improved upon, what needs rethought. Come autumn, the next evolution begins- building the soil before cover cropping it for the winter. We'll have all winter to contemplate the next warm season's adventure.

Me being me (I've recently been told I have impostor syndrome, squirrelly contrarian that I am, I disagree), I'm already thinking on how to get more kid and senior sized raised beds into the garden. Who else generally has the time or inclination to play in a garden?

So far this year the metal beds and the Rubbermaid stock tank have proven their value- mostly pleasant to look at, easy to plant, water and weed. Water and fertilizers mainly stay put rather than skedaddling off to places we'd rather they not. When their soils are depleted we can amend them without the additives being dispersed as they tend to be when building in-ground beds. The newspapers and straw at the bottom of the metal beds will rot allowing the earthworms to work their way to the surface of the beds bringing nutrients up along with them. The stock tank has holes drilled in its bottom to allow for drainage and access for the worms.

In spite of my doubts about my ability to build a garden, or a community of gardeners, or my ability to stay on track, I have to admit the garden is off to a good start- mostly due to the efforts of the town staff, the mayor, the commissioners and the Emmitsburg Walking Group. Brian and our long suffering DWs have been the daily heavy lifters! While my thinking Bally pinballs from bumper to bumper, they are the community that shows up to build the garden in spite of me.

The mid June rains caused rampant growth where the spring drought had held growth back in spite of almost daily watering. The growth is actually stunning if one has labored over the struggling garden from its rough beginning. I can't help but believe the arrival of more volunteers and potential gardeners will have a similar effect on the entire garden. New ideas, designs, methods and motivations will blow away my meager ideas and efforts.

Mother of the laughing gods! Next year's garden will be better!

I can be reached: Ph: 301-447-2151 (if the answering machine picks up, please leave a contact number - speak slowly and clearly.)

Email: jackdeathjr@juno.com

Facebook group: "Emmitsburg Youth/Community Garden"