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July 31, 2003 There’s a reason why Indiana isn’t known as the garden state. That state motto or description or whatever it is you call it was snapped up by New Jersey, which I’ve never been to. Maybe it does have lots of gardens. I only know that people make fun of New Jersey, for various reasons. But back to gardens. I grow one every year. Some people grow them for exercise, some people like to see pretty flowers on their own property, I get a kick out of forcing Indiana’s naturally sticky, clay soil to grow something edible. And ever since I can remember, I’ve succeeded. Years ago, mom was the fuel that got the garden started. It’s too much work for her now, so around April and May, I decide when the garden should be tilled, how many bags of top soil need to be purchased, and whether or not I should try something exotic this year. My brother has a tiller; using it is a matter of getting it from his house to mom’s house. This year, we hired someone to do it. Last year, however, I got to till it myself, which meant battling with the soil before anything had even been planted in it. The tiller did a fine job of grinding up what seemed like nature’s own brand of concrete. It’s satisfying to see the end result; the ground-up dirt is sort of a welcome mat for the plants to come. The soil is troublesome in itself, which is why you need to buy a bunch of topsoil to help the plants thrive in the hostile Indiana dirt. Then there is the weather. Indiana weather tends to be extreme in summer and winter. It’s ether hot and humid, or cold and humid. There are probably 10 days in spring and fall where the weather is absolutely gorgeous. If you’re lucky, one of them will occur on your day off. This summer has been a wet one. My hometown made the national news again for the recent flooding that occurred. The last time we had flooding on a major scale, our relatives from Puerto Rico called. Concerned by what they saw on the national news, they thought the entire city was under water. The city wasn’t hit quite that bad, but towns to the southeast were. The wet weather meant I didn’t have to water as frequently, but I can’t seem to do anything about the rather cool summer we’re experiencing. It’s only been in the 90s once this summer. I look forward to the hot days of summer all during the rest of the year. I can enjoy a pretty fall day, but the season constantly reminds me that winter is on its way. And Indiana winters aren’t pretty, for the most part. We hardly get enough snow to break up the bleak landscape, and the temperature doesn’t stay consistently cold enough to freeze the ponds for skating. Spring? Around here it’s more like winter, on a three-month extended lease. When it came for plants, this year was no different from last: it was going to be tomatoes and green peppers. I chose California Wonder pepper plants, and planted a variety of tomatoes: Santa Fe, which are the grape-sized ones, Early Girl, and the low-acid yellow kind, which name I can’t remember right now. The garden went in Memorial Day weekend, which was rather late. Surprisingly, the first pepper was yielded more than a couple weeks ago. There are more peppers nearly ready, and the Santa Fe has offered up some really robust, fine-tasting tomatoes. I think their taste is superior to the cherry tomatoes. The other tomatoes aren’t ready yet and probably won’t be for at least another week, at the earliest. But I can’t help but look among the vines for that tell-tale sign of pink that signals a nearly ripened tomato. One of my favorite things to do in the summer is to carry salt and pepper outside, pick a ripe tomato, season it to taste and bite into it, much like you would any ordinary apple. I don’t bite into my Granny Smiths that way, but I’m waiting for the day I can pluck an apple-sized tomato and experience a bit of summer planted by my own two hands. It’s a small thing compared to what other people have accomplished; but growing a garden in Indiana soil means I’ve conquered a tiny bit of stubborn real estate. And it’s a battle I look forward to, every summer. ------------ About the author: Gloria Diaz is an opinionated citizen of Generation X (member since 1967) who occupies herself by dabbling in photography, writing and as a written communications processing specialist for the government. She has written for several diverse publications including Scram, Spleen, The Fort Wayne Free Press, and for the Huntington County TAB. Email Gloria Diaz: Scoop5767@aol.com Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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