When you have all boys (or girls too...I have no idea), you can play a game in the morning where you pour your coffee and then try to dodge all of the flailing limbs, hugs, fights, parkouring and what-not with your coffee intact. It could be a slightly dangerous game if the coffee were hot, but “mom coffee” is never hot because it takes 3 hours to drink. It’s a perfectly safe game if perhaps a little hazardous for decorative pillows and carpets.
I listened to a podcast today that was talking about how we often outsource things to avoid the pain of dealing with it ourselves, and I think that’s part of what I’m dealing with when it comes to gardening. I don’t want to grow my own food, I want it to magically show up in the supermarket. Now that I can’t stand going to the grocery store, I’m more tempted to face the drama of growing my own food (even if it’s 1/23848 of what we eat… it’s the principle of the matter). It’s not easy though, something was eating my garden, so I dug out the diatomaceous earth from the bowels of the pantry and went outside to sprinkle it around my plants. To my horror, the flashlight revealed a scene akin to something from Stranger Things. My precious plants were covered in hundreds and hundreds of slugs all twisted around each branch and stem leaving slime, death and destruction. Jim, Jamie and I picked them all off by hand and drowned them with salt. I think the experience may win as the grossest thing I’ve ever done. Only a few plants survived, but thankfully, I have a growing addiction to buying seeds off of home gardeners on Ebay so I’ve got lots of backup plants in various stages of development (sitting in things like milk and egg cartons because I refuse to go to the store). I just need to figure out what to do about the problem lest I allow the small slimy sociopaths to destroy more of my sweet baby plants. The DE seems to help a little, but not enough to deter them completely. Maybe as it gets warmer and drier here it won’t be a problem?
We started out this whole Coronu thing with one pet turtle. Now our urban farm has expanded to include chickens, a pet boa, a beta fish, and a foster dog. So far everything except the snake contributes in some way. The fish fertilizes an aquaponics garden, and even the turtle water goes into the compost bin. In fact, if you count super tiny farm animals, we’re also the proud owners of a kombucha SCOBY, sourdough starter and a worm farm (although honestly, I feel more attached to the pepper plants that finally decided to sprout).
Now I really never get to drink my coffee in the morning.