“Where the hell have you been?” my garden and the SGS blog both asked.
I put in my last day of employment over a year ago, but when I set my sights on retirement from my “day job”, sitting back and relaxing was far from the plan. In this next phase of my life, I will have plenty of time to garden while I finally pursue the career path I chose some 44 years ago: creating and selling art.
After I wrapped up my professional responsibilities, I gave myself six months to develop a new life, one where I don’t sit at my computer every weekday. It takes time to shake any habit, but just as I was getting the swing of it, I decided it was time to show up to work. I signed up to participate in a small Makers’ Market. I would have to figure out how to put together a booth, amass some inventory, and display my art. I would work on this while I managed my home and garden. How hard could it be?
In April, I traveled most of the month for family responsibilities. May seemed intent on raining constantly. June was so hot that it was easy to skip garden work in lieu of painting. The world went on completely unconcerned with any of my requirements.
I am so sorry, garden. By the time I got back to you, the plants that hadn’t been destroyed by uninvited guests (some might call them vermin) had grown over. I couldn’t tell where tomato plants ended and loofah vines began. Although I had a great run early on with cucumbers and a modest couple of green bean gatherings, my harvest was a monumental disappointment when compared to the planting work I had put in.
A couple of days ago, I was stalking about the westside beds looking for loofahs, and I found a watermelon in the overgrowth! It was huge, and yet had gone unseen until now. Left to their own devices, do they hide on purpose in hopes of remaining undiscovered? Is their desire to ripen and rot in place so as to spread their seed? Do they long to ensure their prodigy will thrive in the coming year? Not to worry, my lovely melon. I will take good care of your seeds.
This precious fruit was oddly shaped, but upon opening, I found it looked just like a watermelon on the inside and tasted heavenly. Richard was out of town, and I didn’t want my sole melon harvest to go to waste. How do you eat a watermelon by yourself? Well, I’ve been grazing on it for the last few days. Maybe I’ll juice the remainder and freeze it before the whole thing heads south.
Since I made that decision back in March, I’ve been focusing on creating art and how to present it. The year 2025 has definitely been one of production and experimentation. First, I worked on building my inventory; second, I built my website; third, I’m trying a variety of venues on for size. I’ve participated in two Arts and Crafts makers’ markets, and I had a booth at a Bernard Blues and BBQ festival. Each outing has helped me refine my presentation as I prepare for my first actual juried art festival in mid-October, Jubilee Festival of Arts 2025. I’ll do another arts and crafts market geared toward the holidays in November. I am learning, taking notes, and modifying.
Moving forward to next year, I imagine that my working life will evolve into something more seasonal. When the Fall festivals are over, I’ll work outside, putting the gardens, save a small patch for winter greens, to bed for winter. As the temps drop, I’ll retreat to indoor work in the studio and kitchen. Late Winter and early Spring will be devoted to seed starting, the continued learning of permaculture, and my beloved gardens. Springtime, I’ll split my time between art fairs and garden work. When the heat rises, I will return to the cover of my air-conditioned studio to produce and begin again, preparing for the coming of Fall festivals and art shows.
Sounds perfect, right? It will be interesting to see if life sorts itself out the way I imagine it to. As I ponder the future, I glance out the window and cringe at the forlorn sunflower stalks still standing in my neglected kitchen garden. Then I notice there is still beauty in the sunflower’s late life. I admire the petrified stalks and picked-over flower heads that endure to provide bounty for wildlife, and spring growth. As I ponder, a black-capped chickadee lights on one of the heads in agreement, looking for some remaining seeds still awaiting release or consumption. I can be happy knowing this is what I intended. Success! Beauty is provided in many different ways. I’ll leave the stalks standing for a while longer.
In the meantime, as we move toward winter and year’s end, I too have a plan for ensuring my work goes on. I muse upon this for a bit, but it’s time to get on to my to-do list. I consider briefly what I might have for breakfast this morning. But not for long! Watermelon, of course.
