5:36 am – wake up , see light outside, panic.
5:36-6:03 am – rush about throwing clothes on, and cords in bags, and toothbrushes in little plastic baggies, and absolutely, without a doubt, forgetting something important (I still haven’t figured out quite what yet, though, maybe eating?)
6:03 am – Get on a city bus in the hopes that it will get me downtown in time to catch my Greyhound
6:15 am – obviously still in drug induced, groggy phase from the mountain of migraine medications I kindly put my stomach to the test with last night.
6:16 am – get on wrong city bus, quickly realize and hit the stop button.
6:17-6:30 – walk, ie. waddle, ie, half run- half walk while switching my obviously over packed bag from one arm to the other in an effort to keep circulation moving (this is important)
6:35 – get on bus.
And that is where I am now! Crawling along, amidst traffic, at a pace that I could likely walk faster than. Luckily, the morning’s rush gave me no time to worry about what I was about to do. Spend 8 hours on a crowded bus, with the constant jarring of stop-start motion that ya get when you head towards Toronto in rush hour traffic.
To preface, I hate buses. I don’t know what it is, except, I expect that it has to do with the fact that I feel a bit like a sardine, packed into a can and waiting for something bad to happen (and I hate seafood. especially seafood that comes in a can and can’t get out if it wants to.) Imagine how those sardines feel all packed into that can and anxious at the idea that they might never get out, and that if they do get out- it’ll probably just be for the short period of time between can and mouth. That’s how I feel on a bus. Nothing will ever be right with the world again.
So, awful analogies and dramatization aside, I’m currently half-way between Toronto and my home town, and still have seven hours more to go. Someone super smart suggested that I do something I love to make something that I hate a little more bearable.
And, so I am writing! Which I haven’t had a lot of time to do lately because I took on a second job to pay for those government bills that are about to bite me in the ass in a few months. Thinking ahead.
But what better way to spend being cooped up on a bus, than to reminisce about… and further plan, my gorgeous garden!
This is how it looked in late spring, after our crazy, bio-polar, Canadian weather decided to stop dropping below the frost degree point.
My first step was to pull out that jungle of tangled weeds and turn the soil. I’ve never really gardened before. But my mom had a garden in our backyard when I was kid and paid us something like ten cents per row we weeded. I’m certain that we didn’t have more than ten rows, so a dollar was the salary. Smart momma – because I definitely wouldn’t have weeded that whole thing for a dollar. But ten dimes – FOR SURE!
In any case, I now consider myself somewhat an expert at weeding, since I have such a wealth of experience.
And after a few hours of that, and breaking up the soil, turning and plodding and aerating,(those all just seem like good farming terms – I’m not really sure I accomplished any of them to the full meaning of the word) I had what looked like a garden.
And a few surprises too! We had some mint growing in the back corner, and some parsley, chives, and thyme in the far right. I think my basement neighbour planted those last year. so exciting! I’m hoping I didn’t rip up anything else that wasn’t a weed, but like I said – I’m an expert at weeding at 10 cents an hour.
Since then, I and my roommates have planted tomatoes, zucchini, peppers, cucumbers, and beans. I have no pictures of this stage, unfortunately. My camera bit the bullet and I’m out of luck until it gets fixed – so I’ll have to use my extensive vocabulary to let you all know that it looks fucking awesome. Visualize that.