If there is a shortage of space in one direction, before giving up, try another direction. In a tiny garden, using vertical space opens lots more opportunities. In our own bodies (and minds), taking advantage of different ways of getting to a particular place can make embodiment that much fuller.
hops vine, cherry tomatoes and butternut squash
Thanks to the farmers who come in to town, I know the people who gather the eggs and milk the goats to make cheese. Thanks to my friend Jess, who left a tub of sourdough starter on my porch Friday morning, and my inspiration to make dough to rise overnight between dinner with neighbors and going to bed, I have homemade sourdough bread. With such a fairly wet and very active chef, it was pretty successful to do a sort of hybrid of the New York Times’ no knead bread, which I kneaded, but not for 10-15 minutes, and Martha Rose Shulman’s no-yeast sourdough country bread (in Great Breads).
What I harvested between a morning thunderstorm and starting my day’s work. Pesto for dinner was not optional. Along with the basil, I used leaves from the celery and some of the scallion greens, along with garlic from a friend’s garden. Instead of pine nuts, I used a combination of hemp hearts and walnuts, which together give a similar smoothness as pine nuts, but nutritionally richer and much less expensive.
This morning, after I stretched and then sat for meditation, I went out in the garden. I watered and weeded. I picked greens and herbs and cherry tomatoes to bring to work as part of my lunch.
I usually work from home on Friday, but had to go in for an intense series of meetings.
I picked these glorious turnips for our office administrative assistant. She is now the only support person in our office, and she is thus unsupported herself. She enjoys when I share edibles from the garden.