“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” - Albert Camus

Also, Albert Camus, there's this...
"I believe that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade...and try to find someone whose life has given them vodka, and have a party." - Ron White
(Lemons sourced from Urban Farm Mom's backyard)

Seasons, sometimes they come barreling towards you like unbound chaos and other times like a warm, gentle hug. Nonetheless, nothing is left untouched and we have no choice but to ready ourselves for the next impending and decidedly unpredictable season...

I'll be the first to say it.

It's been a long time, nearly two years, since this Urban Farm Girl posted something new and for good reason. I just wasn't planting anything in the ground. In fact, keeping both feet firmly planted was proving to be enough of a challenge. Instead, I was trying to navigate the choppy waters of life in the big city. It's different now, all of it. Which is scary and really exciting, like life.

Seasons spent with the Hero Boyfriend have passed, he now tends to the original blog garden and I get sparse (but friendly) updates. I keep thinking that I'll get better at weathering these but, alas, I am left standing, confused and wondering how I've even made it this far along.

Similar to the many acts that bring joy, beauty and freedom the great catch 22 was that my arm couldn't be twisted to start the work again, my heart couldn't be compelled to care. Inspiration has never been a "fake it 'til you make it" thing for me. I couldn't make something real from something fake so there had been no garden to tend to, no harvest to gather...it was sad and, essentially, a long winter.

So I've started again. Just last weekend to be exact. Like many things that I care deeply about, I'm afraid it might fail, that I might fail, that I'll have wasted the time of others. There will be cantaloupes, tomatoes, corn, peppers, herbs and even some flowers this time around. I'm not quite ready to share the specifics of this next exciting chapter of the blog garden, but I'm putting it out there because that's what makes this real for me, again. Rest assured it'll be different and from it will spring new adventures.

PS - I'm REALLY excited about it!!

Getting my hands dirty again! These, finger crossed, will be bell peppers.

My first go at cantaloupe, these guys will be going into the ground soon!

Basil

Sometimes, life's (c)hard...

If you've been following this blog for any amount of time then you know that I have a great fondness for this town. I grew up here, I'm growing up here and when I return from an any length trip, it feels like putting on my favorite, worn so many times you can see the fibers in it, t-shirt. There is no other place in this world that receives my laughter as frequently or with the deep sincerity and gratitude that Los Angeles does.

As much as I hope to break the stereotypes that so easily attach themselves to the natives, newbies and squatters alike here, I can confirm that everything you've heard about the freeways and traffic are not myth, rumor or hyperbole. Traffic in this town defies convenience and refuses to be a team player. I believe "fashionably late" is the result of swimming upstream on the 101, or the 10, or the 405 or any surface you find your car idling on. So how does a city add insult to injury? Carmageddon.

Carmageddon started this past Friday and is still happening. Nothing is coming to an end. All it really means is that we should stay in our neighborhoods and meet our neighbors. For me, this means that I can't wander north or east of my home. Sadly, no Urban Farm Mom visit this weekend but I'm easily consoled by the beach and a breakfast cocktail <--silver lining.

A quick guide through LA:
The freeways in LA are thoroughfares, but they also serve to separate and distinguish neighborhoods, and LA is basically a patchwork of neighborhoods that make up a non sequitur, oddly shaped, slightly irregular quilt. Ah, home...

LA does indeed have different climates and while I spent my formative years in the San Fernando Valley, littering my speech with the ubiquitous "like" and the dated "rad", I picked up an unfortunate Valley accent along with a high tolerance for dry heat. I have memories of my dad (the first urban gardener I would encounter) growing tomatoes, corn and sunflowers in the backyard while myself, the grade school gardener, had great success growing giant zucchini. Never once did we try chard, kale or lettuce.

As I grew up and moved out, I found myself less than 20 miles away from the valley home that produced youthful days of Slurpee stained summers and 105 degree, nose bleed inducing heat. I was now "just over the hill" as locals say or if you've been watching the popular SNL sketch, The Californians, west of the 405 and north of Marina del Rey. The difference is this, being closer to the ocean means that temperatures are reliably cooler and the further inland you garden the more pronounced hot and cold weather is. The weather also fluctuates more the further inland you are. The ocean matters, it's almost given me seasons. So...I started growing chard, kale and lettuce for the first time! Below are pictures of my first crop of chard.

Lastly, every bit the hippie enabler I passed along some tomato plants that were in the red solo cups in a previous post. Two plants went to a co-worker (who is never seen except during lunch outings) and his girlfriend. The Lunch Bunch Editor returned one of the plants back to the soil (it died/he killed it) but the other one is about to produce fruit. His before and after pictures are also below. Friends give friends plants. Send me a message if you'd like some seeds and the Urban Farm Girl will send some your way!

Chard Progression

July 21 - Newly planted chard seeds

August 14 - Chard sprouts

September 16 - Almost ready for the table

September 30 - Chard, it's what's for dinner











Lunch Bunch Editor's Tomatoes

The Hero Boyfriend has harvested some basil seeds, send a note if you'd like some. Basil grows well almost anytime of the year and you can always take it inside!

"The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship." - W. Blake

("Urban Habitat" on the sidewalks of Washington DC)

It was just over 10 years ago when I walked into my first apartment on Overland Avenue. I remember it clearly. The dirty grey carpet all over, the old-school Nintendo console in the living room and a clear view of the Mormon temple from our tiny kitchen window. None of it made sense and little did I know that college wasn't the real world. It was the final play pen. I found myself living there with three girls that I had never met but all knew each other. It was college. It was fun, it was overwhelming, it was the vehicle for some of my favorite memories and it introduced me to one of my favorite people. It wasn't quite fall yet and my only contribution was a colander.

I shared a modest sized room, bathroom and disproportionately large walk-in closet with a nice girl from northern California. She played clarinet in the marching band, set up the internet for all the roommates, and was a science major which meant nothing more than we would never have a single class together. My liberal arts major sequestered me in North Campus, always. We could have gone our entire lives with sharing the requisite polite exchanges, that modest room and bathroom and nothing more as that's how things appeared to be going for the first three months. We were, in fact, ships passing in the night.

I noticed recently that I was still referring to her as "my old roommate" as if that was all there was to it. Like we walked away when our lease ended, awkwardly hugged and disingenuously mumbled, "Let's keep in touch, ok?" For the record, nice girl from northern California, you are relinquished from that title because, more accurately, you're one of my best friends. Turns out, we didn't just handle the pain-in-the-ass tandem parking situation together that year, we've also navigated the last 10 years of a bucket list checking friendship. Without you, nice girl from northern California, I would have walked significantly less miles in this world and I would never have played IM softball in college. I would never, ever have done the latter, especially not in a Hawaiian shirt.

So, what's this post about? Well, just like the friendship above I started my garden without ever daring to dream that it might become important to me. It was just a garden, barely a hobby (she was a roommate, barely an acquaintance) and I liked the idea of it because it seemed low maintenance. But like so many times before, nothing turned into something and the universe reminded me that it doesn't really want to unfriend me after all. The gift the blog garden gives me is that I get to see nothing turn into something all the time. Check out some before and after pictures below!

Also, I visited our nation's capital this past weekend to see the aforementioned nice girl from northern California (and to congratulate her on her engagement!) and took pictures of some tomatoes she saw growing on the sidewalk by the Smithsonian. Oh, I was a happy urban farm girl when I saw those.

Green Beans - Front Yard

Japanese Eggplant - Sidewalk

Backyard Mess... Sometimes progress isn't pretty

Yes, that's a laundry basket.








Urban gardening on the sidewalks of our capitol!

“You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by..." - JM Barrie

"...but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by."

It's August. I woke up this morning and it was already August.

Summers, they have gone by too fast for as long as I can remember. Those few dreamy months when the dry heat, long days and June bugs buzzing well into August awaken the most ingenuous spirit inside me. Immediately my soul is barefoot, cartwheeling on the front lawn and I am drinking water from the hose. What I want, what I wish I could create is an endless summer because summer in LA is this Urban Farm Girl's Neverland. I learned to fly here and I still believe summer is magical when I'm here. Without fail, always and forever time forces me back through that window where I invariably and reluctantly say "hello" to fall and put on a sweater.

I can't help but suffer from severe nostalgia whenever the beach leaves salt in my hair, sand in my car, a stomach begging for a barbecue and my heart is left perennially humbled by the people around the table. My favorite part...possibility offered in generous servings.

This summer has been like each one before it...beautiful, generous and fleeting. This time I have something to show for it and some things to share. The garden has also enjoyed these summer months and I've branched out beyond tomatoes and peppers this time around. The green beans and zucchinis have gained unexpected popularity in our house. We've eaten dozens of zucchini pancakes and made three zucchini lasagnas! Zucchini bread, you're next. We've given Urban Farm Mom (yes, that's what I'm calling my mom) some of our garden vegetables but even more than that we gave her some plants of her own. This summer the Hero Boyfriend set her up with three tomato plants, three grape plants and a pot of basil. Hopefully I'll be able to convince a little bit of this summer to join me into the fall.

Lycopene Love

We call these our stoplight tomatoes. No, we don't. We don't know what to call them. Our best guess is that they're Early Girl tomatoes...














More Early Girl tomatoes?















Romas, these are definitely Romas.














More sidewalk Romas.

 Green Beans

Our very own Moonrise Kingdom

These have been a hit at our house

That one giant zucchini makes one zucchini lasagna and eight zucchini pancakes. AMAZING.

Urban Farm Mom's Grapes

Hope is the dream of a soul awake - French Proverb

It's hard. If you believe the Great Recession ended in the third quarter of 2009, as is officially noted in some circles, then we're not running in the same circles. It's not easy out there and if I were to be frank, gardening helps the Hero Boyfriend and I stay grounded, no pun intended this time. This is my shortest blog post yet and to all my friends who are struggling, this one's for you. Chin up, mates. I've got dreams for us yet.

The blog garden would like to remind you that you can't stop progress.

Tomatoes

06.03.12

07.21.12















07.23.12 (just two days later!)

Kale 

06.03.12 - We had officially given up on eating our own kale, ever...

07.21.12 - ...but then our kale did this! And it was happy again.

“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, 'It might have been.'” - K. Vonnegut

If I were to do some of this over again I would have studied abroad in college, I would never have had any pet fish, I wouldn't have bought those red Hush Puppies that I wore never, I wouldn't have worn any of the myriad of ill-fitting clothes I bought before I knew how to "dress for my body" and I would never have sang that mean song to Robbie in the fifth grade. The last one still haunts me. (I am so sorry, Robbie. I was a mean girl trying to climb the perennial ranks of popularity in grade school. The guilt runneth over). I wouldn't take back the hot pink and teal hair, the about-face I pulled on law school after my parents put down the deposit or any of the love I have given, regardless of whether or not it was returned in full (or at all). Since this is a blog and not a confessional or "couch", I'm keeping it light.

In my attempt to move beyond regret I turn to my garden as it is forgiving and to some extent resilient. It also continues to grow even if my attention to it goes on hiatus, unlike my self-awareness which makes little progress unless I implore it. Let's be real, it's the Hero Boyfriend that steps in with regularity to pick up where my interest has left off. While the grown up version of me still reels from the 11-year-old jerk version of me, my garden continues to turn over a new leaf with consistency and what appears to be ease. My plants make it look so effortless I just might turn my back on GOOP for supercilious examples of easy, breezy perfection. Don't worry Gwyneth you're still the Queen of Cleanse.

On days when my actions verge on neglect towards my garden the Hero Boyfriend without fail finds a way to get me outside to toss a few seeds in the ground or to pick up a watering can or two. I've tried to get out of my gardening responsibilities, the "it's cold outside" excuse however does not work in the middle of July, but when I have enough lettuce for a dozen salads and plenty more to giveaway or my first giant zucchini is able to feed six I'm grateful to have won one against "it might have been."

Below are some pictures from what has been a bountiful spring. No regrets here.

PS - The broccoli/cauliflower that I was so certain I was growing in my last post turned out to be this...

         Newbie Status: Confirmed. I had no idea I was growing cabbage.
 


 Turns out cabbage makes a good gift. I gave one to my satirically brilliant, ad copywriter neighbor friend and one to my boss.


Mint

From store (we brought home a few different varieties)




















To pot (all mint varieties living together)

















To Mojitos!

Identity Theft

There's a little diner that sits on the corner of a large intersection in the Valley where I grew up. As a 19 year old, my timing was both unusual and tragic and so I wound up spending much of my early 20's at this diner drinking cup after cup of mediocre coffee with my very favorite people during the late night/early morning hours. A little She Talks to Angels, a little of Joni Mitchell's California and a lingering "pirate's smile" doesn't just make a hippie with dark eyeliner, it also makes this Urban Farm Girl.

When I'm not trying to be the person that I would like to be (sorry grandma, no matter how hard I try I'm not even close to capturing your grace, courage or strength), I'm trying to distance myself from my man-made hurricane of fiery chaos and destruction that is the kind of certifiable lunacy that earns the Hero Boyfriend a nomination for sainthood for his unconditional support. It's not cute or pretty. It doesn't happen often but, when it does, it looks like I've been hijacked by sweatpants wearing a bad attitude. If anything, it's Jeckyll and Hyde-y. And so therein lies my distaste and distrust for multiple moniker vegetation. My envy of people who are more like tomatoes and less like the multiple alias/personality folks like myself. Some days I'm coriander and other days I'm cilantro. You can't have one without the other, but shoot, why can't I just be one? What Would Gwyneth Do?

I thought it was due to my newbie status as a farmer, but, as I mentioned in my last post, I just couldn't tell if one of my winter crops was a broccoli or cabbage plant. Well, upon further research I learned that my confusion may have something to do with the fact that broccoli evolved from a wild cabbage plant in Europe. AND its very name comes from the Italian plural of broccolo which refers to "the flowering top of a cabbage." Please, don't even get me started on the cauliflower plants I think I'm growing. Did you know that purple cauliflower is actually a type of broccoli sold in southern Italy, Spain, and the United Kingdom?

So broccoli evolved from cabbage and sometimes, to some people, it's cauliflower. Really? This reeks of coriander/cilantro all over again...




I'm convinced these are all broccoli and/or cauliflower plants now. Also, check out the broccoli/cauliflower leaves on the left that have been terrorized by some garden critters. Sad.










In case you're like me and wondering where the broccoli/cauliflower is going to grow from or out of, I've taken a picture of the very spot. Right there, in the middle of the leafy green plant is where I place my hopes for a fruitful harvest.







Lettuce news:




The arugula has been unattended to and so it has become this...
















Now we have flowering arugula plants in the backyard and the sidewalk. Since we're still recovering from an economic downturn, I will be at work stomping and collecting arugula seeds in a few months as an act of supporting my own austerity measure.















Until then, there's still a little patch of mixed greens to get us through our days on the icy southern California tundra.







If you're reading this and would like some arugula seeds harvested from the blog garden, send me a note and I'll happily send you some seeds!