are things complicated yet?

7 Quick Takes: Summer Plans, Dystopian Fiction, Kale

1. I found out there are only three weeks of preschool left. I mean, I knew it was coming, at some point, and I had in my head that it was probably in May...ish? And then April had like, ten Mondays in it and GAH WHEN IS APRIL OVER? and I kind of forgot about the end of preschool coming up soon. 

Well, turns out I should have been ENJOYING my April, because there are only three weeks of preschool in May and after that I won't have any place to turn the three-year-old over to when she gets rude. 

2. What is everyone doing this summer? Even if you aren't on the preschool track, or even if you don't have kids, you must be doing SOMETHING this summer, right? We are going to do swim lessons at the Y. It's M-Th, an hour each day in June. This is a lot of time at the Y but you know what? I could use some more time at the Y. Plus, it's only $55 for all those lessons so....sold. That's what we're going to do for the entire month of June. I will run, Claire will learn how to swim (we hope), Charlotte will tear up the kid's room. (Related: I BETTER BE A LOT THINNER COME JULY.)

I also have a Groupon for a month of dance class so maybe we'll do that in July. Our neighborhood pool opened last weekend so we can do that some, until it gets over 100 every day. After that I'm out of ideas. Give me your ideas.

3. Charlotte's first birthday is in a week. (!)

4. I read Divergent. And, it was okay. [SPOILER ALERT}

I liked it a lot up until the part where the fictional world imploded on itself. I would like to read a YA dystopian novel about just living in the dystopian world. I do not care to read about the upheaval of the world as the whole interesting part is learning about the world itself and things that go on in the world. I mean, why can't we just have a nice, dystopian world where everything is weird and The End? Perhaps it would not be exactly dystopian, but I'd read that book.

5. I would like a device (a token, chip, card, etc) I can carry around for when I visit a doctor's office that wants me to fill out a handful of forms with my pertinent information. I would be able to just hand them the device, they swipe it, and VOILA, all relevant information is automatically filled in and nobody needs a clip board and nobody has to arrive twenty minutes early and I don't have to put my name and address on seven different forms, seven different times. (WHY DO THEY DO THAT TO US?) Then I can review it, omit information they don't need about me, and approve it.

It would be a lot like the Auto-Fill preferences in a browser, except it would be in real life.

OH WAIT. WHAT IF THESE DOCTOR'S OFFICES JUST SENT YOU THE FORM IN ADVANCE, ONLINE, TO FILL OUT WITH THE AUTO-FILL PREFERENCES WE ALL ALREADY HAVE IN PLACE? AND THEN NOBODY WOULD HAVE TO TRANSCRIBE ANYTHING! Oh! That would be TERRIBLY efficient, wouldn't it??

6. People on the Smoothie Train: What in the hell kind of blender are you using? I don't have a blender, mostly because I think a blender is a huge pain in the ass to own. It takes up a bunch of space on a counter, in the cabinet, and in the dishwasher. It has limited utility when I already own a Cuisinart and a stick blender.

And yet, I see all you people sticking kale (I DON'T EVEN REALLY KNOW WHAT THAT IS) in a smoothie and going, "YUM YUM!" And, I have to be very honest, I don't believe that any of you actually enjoy drinking liquefied kale (whatever that is) because isn't it like...lettuce? Of some kind?

Are your blenders...smaller? Easier to clean? What is going on? Why is everyone a smoothie groupie now? Is salad suddenly not on-trend?

7. Yeah, I'm done. Mad Men is on at my house.

Transition

I stayed at my job for two and a half years after Claire was born, and resigned after Charlotte arrived. I've been at home with the girls for a year now. I've done two versions of parenting (and there are THOUSANDS of versions): working out of the home (with one child) and not working/staying at home (with two children).

I'd like to think it gives me some perspective and clarity on really crappy days, but the annoying truth is it doesn't matter if it's a three-year-old or a gigantic corporate ego that's mad at me and making me do dumb things. Both are crappy and both make me want to stab my eyes out. Each day for the past three years, when I make it to bedtime? I give myself a big high-five. The exact same feeling of relief washes over me, desk job or not.

PHEW. I MADE IT. POUR ME A GLASS OF WINE.

***

This has been a big year of transition for me: I became a mother of two and a few weeks later tucked my career onto a shelf. It's been...interesting. Enlightening. Humbling. Oh-so-very humbling.

I sometimes dislike being in the house all day, picking up after everyone, and not having time with adults to talk in self-important acronyms. I understand these things go with the SAHM territory, I do, but mostly I wake up every day and think,

"I AM LIVING THE DREAAAAAAM!"

Lest anyone think I'm looking at this one-sided, I did have days in my previous, high-heeled, life where I woke up and also had that thought. (The day I departed to The Bahamas for a beachside photo shoot comes to mind.) But, (HUGE HUGE BUT) it has been a gigantic mental transition to get to this point now, in this new, holy-crap-there-are-two-of-them, life.

***

I spend most of my days enjoying not being on a schedule. I behave as if I am still on vacation, as if I'll be called in to my office at any moment. The idea that I can do whatever I want, whenever I want is so very NOVEL to me. I think about Not Being On A Schedule a lot, an embarrassing amount, actually. The Schedule, for me, was my ultimate enemy for a long time and now I can't stand rigid schedules, so we just don't have one. I avoid most activities or events that might require a complex daily schedule. I just can't do it. 

Every day I do exactly what I would do if I was on vacation from my cubicle job, and the joy and delight of this idea is never lost on me. It's awesome. I spend time with my kids. We run necessary errands. I go to the Y and run on a treadmill. I take yoga classes with elderly people. I do a lot of laundry. I bathe children. I struggle to get them to follow directions. I break up fights. I kiss boo-boos. I make unwearable skirts when the children go to bed. I think about trying on those expensive Lemon-something pants everyone keeps talking about.

I do the same things I did while I was working, but I have so much more time to do them and a dramatically more available mental space. That part is nice.

***

At first, I didn't miss my job at all. The baby was all-consuming and for three months I did the, "sleep when you can, just get through today and tackle tomorrow with lots of coffee," thing. That was fine. Expected, even. Everyone does that.

For months 3-6 though, I really struggled with how to let go and turn off, ignore, or redirect the businessy-creative part of my brain. I had a lot of anxiety about wasting time, about not being able to do everything, at not being able to somehow cobble together the perfect blend of SAHM and WAHM that I felt like I wanted, needed, and (most importantly) OWED myself. I spent hours silently pondering the shit-storm that must be in my future.

Nobody will hire me again.

I'll forget everything I know.

I'll be irrelevant. 

And, whoa. I don't care who you are or what you do, nobody likes to think she's on track to being IRRELEVANT. Being irrelevant means you aren't even good for party conversation.

I spent time looking for a new job. I thought about taking on some big personal projects. I explored freelancing and contracting. I began to mentally copy-edit signs at the park. I nitpicked in-store POP. I would roll my eyes at commercials I knew could be better and more effective. I spent months trying to figure out how to be a stay-at-home-mom AND retain my professional identity and skills without actually doing anything remotely professional. (I love an impossible problem, oh yes I do!)

I had never thought of myself as defined by my career, never would have admitted that to anyone at all, but it turns out I LIKED telling people I worked in advertising. I LIKED the flash of recognition when people realized they'd seen my work. And I really liked the feeling of sole ownership that came with doing something by myself, away from my family, that I was good at and proud of, that was mine-all-mine. I liked that a lot. 

But at this specific moment in my life, I did not have the time or sincere desire to make space for work. I'd already filled my plate with other things, yet here I was torturing myself with the idea that I was letting a very important part of my identity, that I'd spent a decade cultivating with care and good decisions, wither and die without so much as a goodbye happy hour. I'm confident that taking a professional break was the right decision for a lot of very typical reasons, but just like any opportunity left on the table, I wondered if I was giving up more than I realized. Just writing this paragraph about trying to bridge that mental gap is making me anxious, which I think says a lot about how turbulent it was (and still is) in my head.

It was so unexpectedly tough to make my brain walk away from my desk, long after I'd physically done so.

Sometime after Christmas, things kind of equalized. I started to transition more. The baby started sleeping longer stretches, the weather got warmer, I started a project everyone can get involved with and get satisfaction from. I read books again, for the first time in years. I ran further and faster and more often. I let go of the anxiety-producing idea that my current role was not enough. It sounds insane, but it was VERY DIFFICULT for me to realize I don't have to impact thousands of people each day to call my day successful. I tried to fill my life with things that don't require acronyms. I shelved the ambitious, consuming, admirable-yet-distracting-in-my-new-life mentality that I can do more/everything/better/faster/cheaper.

(I still critique television commercials and in-store signage. I JUST CAN'T STOP THAT PART, OKAY?)

Somewhere in between about this day last year when I was hugely pregnant and working on projects millions of eyeballs might see, and today when I'm worried about just when in the hell the UPS man will bring me my new steam mop because these bananas Charlotte drops on the floor ain't cleaning themselves (WHO AM I?), my former and past life came to an obvious understanding that I wasn't willing to see or notice last summer.

Nothing's permanent. (DUH.) Things change. (DUH.) And, while I am happy with the state of life now, if I am someday not? I can go back to the acronyms and the high heels. They will be (hopefully) waiting for me and (hopefully) I will not have sacrificed too much during my desk hiatus. In the meantime there are a million ways to dip my toes back in, little-by-little. It's a rolling understanding, one I admit I'm not entirely comfortable or happy with, but it's working for me these days. 

An entire year passed (seemingly) in the blink of an eye, but everything is so, so very different. 

Six

The Garden, Weeks 8 and 9: I Am Pretty Sure it's Ugly (SIGH)

I freely admit that when I started on this garden insanity last January I was under the vague impression that gardening WAS a lot of work but I would probably be able to fashion something attractive that produced edible things without TOO much effort.

I was looking at gardens like this on Pinterest and thinking they were actually achieveable. (Damn you, Pinterest, for making common people think they can DIY anything.)

Source: ana-white.com via A'Dell on Pinterest

 

Source: thisoldhouse.com via A'Dell on Pinterest

 

Source: goinghometoroost.com via A'Dell on Pinterest

 

You guys? I am dying of Pinterest shame, but my garden looks like this: 

(Good news! Nobody is going to Pin this sad garden! This website is as far as my shame will go. PHEW.)

It's SO UGLY. I'm so sad. I have two tables turned upside down, holding the wire in place so the bunnies don't go under it. I also did not bother to cut the remaining wire from the roll, electing instead to go inside and have dinner. Nothin' but high class, Pinnable gardens here, folks.

It was looking kind of okay, up until the part where I hastily wrapped chicken wire around the whole thing. We have a bunch of rabbits and I knew if I left those plants out there for even ONE night I'd come back to nibbled tomatoes. Towards the end of my TWO HOUR transplanting event (I am still not sure how I took so long to plant a dozen tomatoes and three peppers) I was of the "fuck this" mindset so I wrapped it up and decided to make it look better another day. (I'm still working on the HOW part of that plan.)

Also, I was having fits over those tomato cages. I wanted NICE cages. Perhaps DIY cages, because almost everyone on the internet that has grown a tomato says those traditional tomato cages suck. If the tomatoes don't have a proper place to climb then you won't get as many tomatoes and...this felt like a big decision to make. I didn't want to spend $200 on fancy cages, but I suspected that I didn't have it in me to MAKE my own, no matter how simple Pinterest said it would be. (PINTERST LIES! LIIIIIIIES!)

I talked to Elizabeth (my tomato garden sensei) and SHE uses the old school cages and if it's good enough for her it's good enough for me and also it was going to make my life eight million times easier to just buy the stupid things. I ponied up $5 for each the big suckers and crammed nine of them in my SUV. (I need to go back for three more.) We'll see how they do. I can always do it differently next year or keep these and add new ones to the mix. I spent $300 to remove a tree, $45 on cages isn't so bad. 

(In other news: THIS GARDEN IDEA IS GETTING KIND OF SPENDY.) 

Oh, yeah, we had a tree removed!

As previously noted, this tree was blocking all of the sunshine so we hired a guy with a chainsaw and about 15 minutes later the tree was in pieces. It was very impressive.

 

Then a guy came and ground the stump, which was ALSO impressive to watch.

I really loved the guys we hired and highly recommend if you're in the DFW area and need trees trimmed, removed, etc.

(LOOK AT ALL THAT GLORIOUS SUNSHINE!)

Aaaaaand I finally got some dirt

I got my soil at Living Earth. I paid about $45 for a cubic yard of Vegetable Mix, which is what the guy on the phone told me to buy. It has some good garden buzzwords in it like LOAM and MULCH so I said okay, give me some of that stuff. 

Vegetable Garden Mix is a unique blend of compost, loam, sand, aged mulch, expanded shale and Texas Green Sand. It will perform well with most plantings, especially vegetables. It has excellent drainage, moisture retention and friability. 

If you think this is not what I should have bought? Perhaps keep that opinion to youself since I hauled A CUBIC FREAKING YARD of this stuff around the house in about 20 trips with a wheelbarrow.

Oh, yes, that's Claire and my grandfather helping. COMMUNITY EFFORT, Y'ALL. Claire's wheelbarrow was an Easter gift from Grandma and it is basically the cutest thing in the world. She plays with it all the time, indoors and out.

I don't know, it's just not all that impressive. All of that work and I get....this? This is not inspirational. It's just a bunch of dirt.

Perhaps slightly more interesting, this is how I felt after hauling it around.

Thus endeth Weeks 8 and 9 of The Garden.

I Made a(n) (Unwearable) Skirt

For as long as I can remember, my mother decorated with fabric in every house our military family moved to. She made bedsheets into shower curtains, used liquid starch to "wallpaper" walls (again, with sheets), and she sewed yards upon yards of draperies, curtains, and valances. Once, she took an upholstery class with my Dad and over a series of many (thrilling, I am sure) Friday nights, they re-upholstered an entire sofa. 

She made us several Halloween costumes as kids. (One year the entire family was the cast of Peter Pan. She was Peter, my dad Captain Hook, I was Tinkerbell and my brother was Mr. Smee. All hand-made costumes, all VERY accurate and well-done.) She's made Claire and Charlotte quite a few dresses, hats, and bibs. She's not whipping up wedding dresses on the weekends, but my mother is a more than competent seamstress.

She gave me a sewing machine for my birthday when I was in college. (Maybe for my 19th or 20th birthday?) I've used it many times over the years but my skill level has remained pretty flat. I am a barely passable seamstress.

I can sew straight lines. I can even sew them pretty well. But, I sew like I cook. I dislike following all of the specific directions and much prefer to improvise and make it up as I go along. Making curtains really works for me since it's SUPER TOUGH to screw up four straight seams. I mean, there's just not a lot of room to get crazy or come up with a new idea or ignore a pattern. (There is no pattern! It's just a giant rectangle!)

I've tried making clothes before and it's always a total disaster. The detail work required to close seams, construct waistbands, and make simple buttonholes flummoxes me. I get frustrated, I don't understand the directions on the pattern, I make something up, and pretty fast I have ruined my project. So, it's with this in mind that you might understand how delusional I must have been when I bought a couple of yards of fabric, a skirt pattern, a spool of yellow thread, and a length of 1" elastic at the fabric store today. (I did not visit a fabric store with the intention of buying ANY of those things.)

I don't know. I just saw this fabric and I thought it would make a cute skirt and I thought about how wonderful it would be if I had a pattern for a cute skirt and I could just make my own skirts like Laura Ingalls did and they'd be in whatever color I wanted and they'd fit and they'd probably only cost me eight dollars to make. And then, if I got really good at this making clothes thing, I'd make something like this gorgeous dress that I've been eyeing and thinking about for YEARS, and die of happiness:

Source: grosgrainfabulous.com via A'Dell on Pinterest

 

But, I'm not (anywhere close to) there yet. Baby steps.

Here's what I came home with, on super sale and end of bolt, for about $5. I thought the citrus print was kind of summery and Vera Neumann-ish.

I picked this pattern because it looked simple, it was advertised as simple, and it was on sale for about $7. I made Pattern B - the two-layer skirt.

I tried to decide if I wanted the yellow fabric on top or the orange fabric. I used the very sophisticated method of Wrapping Fabric Around Self While Looking In Mirror, to make this important design decision. Now, when I bought this fabric, I intended to do the yellow over the orange, but when I was looking at it I thought the orange print might be better as the top layer because the print was kind of showing through the yellow.

At this point, I was still optimistic about getting a wearable skirt out of the deal, (HA HA HA HA HAAAAAA), so I wanted it to not be crappy and see-through. 

(Please to be ignoring the baby-smudged mirror.)

Now that I'm looking at them though, (and now that I've seen the final product), the orange on yellow just looks like candy corn and, well, I don't really love my bottom half looking like a triangle-shaped candy corn. But that's what this is about, right? LEARNING. 

If you've never used a pattern, it is basically the largest piece of tissue paper you've ever seen in your life, folded one thousand times to fit in the envelope. You do not want children to touch it. My pattern had pieces and directions to make six different skirts so I didn't need ALL of this. I just cut out the parts labeled "B."

Annnnd, here is my first mistake. I was trying to locate my pieces to cut out and while I will not tell you what size pants I wear, I will tell you that it is not a 14, which was the smallest size this pattern had. Turns out, I'd bought the pattern for sizes 14-22. CRAP.

Okay, well....It's okay. I'll just make the size 14 and since it has an elastic waist I'll just gather it up top and it'll be full and that will be still be pretty. (Again, still thinking I'll get a wearable garment out of the deal.) 

There are only two pieces for my skirt, which is good because it means there are fewer places for me to screw it up. (But, don't worry, I STILL SCREWED IT UP.) I cut them out, placed my fabric right-sides together and cut two pair of each in both the yellow and orange.

I made another mistake. I was cutting the yellow in big rectangles and I eyeballed the last rectangle and clipped it too short by about 2 inches. See all that space on the left where the lines are but there's not any fabric beneath? Yeahhhhh. That's supposed to have fabric underneath. See? Clothes are so much more EXACTING and PRECISE than curtains. I should not have been eyeballing anything. Whatever. I can't do anything about it now.

Let's take a break and look at my pins. I prefer the multi-colored straight pins because I think they're pretty.

I've got all the pieces cut, and it looks vaguely skirt-y! I'm doing good! This is going to be so cute!

(I still think I'm getting a wearable skirt.)

About this time, I decide that what this skirt could use are some POCKETS! I love having pockets in my skirts and dresses. So, I break the rules, I make something up, and I go off pattern and freehand some pockets. I base them on the pockets in a J Crew skirt I have, that I've turned inside out to see how they're made.

(THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA.)

I cut them, pin them, iron them, sew them. I try and place them in the seam of the skirt. It takes me a minute to realize this isn't going to work since it's a two-layer skirt. I put the pockets aside for a future skirt. I need to stick to the pattern. I remind myself that things go badly when I make them up as I go along.

Next, I sew the panels together and I sew them with the wrong sides facing each other, so I have to rip out 2 seams and do it again. But once I do that, I have two skirt shapes that layer on top of each other and I'm pretty pleased with myself. Now I just have to do the elastic waistband and that looks easy enough.

Except...the directions are kind of vague about sewing the casing and that's because I was supposed to cut out a casing pattern piece, but I forgot to. I dig out the pattern, find it, cut one. I get confused sewing it though and it's soon clear that I've done it all wrong. I have enough fabric though, so I cut another one and I do that one wrong too. So I say, "fuck this," and I make up my own casing for the elastic band. 

(Can you tell this is about when the skirt starts to become unwearable?)

Sewing the casing is an improvisational disaster...it's the wrong size, the elastic doesn't stretch through it, and the way I attach it to the skirt leaves a big open gap in the seam that I break my needle trying to cram through the machine. I replace the needle, hem the layers quickly, and call it done.

It's not the prettiest skirt ever, but I made a skirt! I made clothes!

I try it on. It's, uh, way too small. Like, WAY TOO SMALL. I know I probably used a little more than the seam allowance, and I had that one panel that was too short because I cut it wrong, but...What did I do wrong?

It's about this moment I remember pattern sizes are not Gap or Old Navy sizes. I check the measurements on the pattern and a size 14 is equivalent to a 28" waist, of which I am not in possession of. (A 28" waist is a size 6 at Gap.) This skirt is also realllllly short because I hemmed it quickly and sloppily, so basically it's completely unwearable, even if I do somehow fix the hole in the waistband.

To sum up my sewing sins:

I cut the pattern wrong.

I tried to add pockets.

I forgot to cut an entire pattern piece.

I abandoned a pattern piece and made my own.

I didn't follow the directions and made up my own.

I broke a sewing machine needle.

There is a hole in the waistband.

Duuuudes, clothes are haaaaaard to sew.

***

This sounds like a spectacular failure (and it was on the wearability front, trust me, I'm aware), but I actually really enjoyed the whole project. I was using cheap fabric, I enjoyed figuring out how the skirt was constructed, and I only spent about three hours on it start-to-finish. I'm sure the next one would go faster and I already have several ideas on how to improve both my technique and the pattern (perhaps use six panels to achieve more fullness, cut it a bit longer, perhaps a sash tie instead of the elastic waistband).

I'm a long way from making that dreamy ruffle dress, and I might never get there, but this was kind of a fun way to spend an evening. I'll do it again next week and see if I improve. (Perhaps I'll even get to WEAR it.) I like choosing fabric and there's always something on sale, so it's not even an expensive experiment to repeat.

What about you guys? Anyone out there a champion sewer that makes her own clothes? Anyone want to be my go-to person for questions on how to sew a waistband? (I'm pretty sure I'll need outside help on that one since the pattern instructions were AWFUL.)

7 Quick Takes: Not A Single One About The Garden

1. I'm weaning the baby. Mostly because she isn't all that interested and partly because it would be great to release myself from that physical obligation of Mandatory Presence. There are movies I want to see, vacations I want to take, things I'd like to do AWAY FROM MY BABY. 

The thing about Charlotte is she has never been the kind of baby that loves to nurse. Sure, she was comforted by it and she was into the nutritional part but she just never, ever seemed to WANT to nurse.   She never fell asleep while nursing. She never got into a legit schedule with nursing. If I offered, she accepted and that's about as far as it went with her.

This gets a little hilarious now that we know she's a baby that eyes your plate of enchiladas and then EATS AN ENTIRE ONE. (With jalapenos and onions!) She will eat anything. It feels almost like she's been holding out for the good stuff and now that she's mastered a sippy cup she's really not interested in me. I think we'll be done in the next two weeks or so.

Oddly, I don't feel any wah-wah-this-might-be-my-last-baby feelings on the topic. Looking at her, it's hard to see her as a BABY, since she's all huge and wiggly and can mimic sounds like UH-OH and DADA and HIIIIII. (I hesitate to call these true words because she really is only mirroring what she hears, when she hears it. I have yet to get a HIIIII when someone enters the room.) I feel like we left that sweet-sleepy-baby nursing part a few months back. Claire weaned at 11 months and it appears Charlotte will as well.

2. I found a totally sweet new fabric shop. I went to my normal online fabric shop to finally purchase a yard of the Bermuda Zig Zag, after eyeing it for months. 

I might use it for kitchen curtains, but I'm not sure. I'll thumbtack the yard up and see what I think. If I like it, I'll use it along with a larger order and if I don't like it on the wall I will turn it into sofa pillows. Anyway, my normal place didn't have it, so I had to Google and I found my new sweet shop where I ordered my yard of fabric PLUS another yard of sweet fabric that I am going to use to make a little cushion for this rocking chair I used to sit in at my Grandad's house:

I could have ordered a LOT more fabric but I restrained myself. They shipped this stuff to me for a flat $3.75, which I was a big, big fan of.

3. Every time we go to Walmart these days, Claire sees the chocolate bunnies and says, very solemnly,

"I really hope the Easter Bunny comes shopping here and brings me one of those chocolate bunnies."

(Her bunny of choice is a Lindt chocolate rabbit.)

So, HRM. This appears to be a topic the literature doesn't address: How does the Easter Bunny acquire his goods for distribution to children? Santa has a workshop and the Easter Bunny has.....Walmart? According to Claire, he has Walmart.

4. Because I am an amazing mother, I let Claire paint with legit tempura paint today. In the house. She did a really good job with keeping it reasonably clean and only painting when Charlotte was napping.

5. Look at what I found in the washing machine. (Bloated, dead.) (Oh my gosh, just typing that made me vomit a little.)

I don't think it's as bad as the time I found a tail-less gecko (bloated, dead) in the washing machine but it's SURE CLOSE.

6. Elizabeth posted about her summer uniform a few weeks ago and while I LOVE Elizabeth's idea and plan it is just not for me because there is no way all of those things would be clean, folded and easily accessible all at the same time at my house. Perhaps Elizabeth is better at laundry than I am, but I know I'd have a pile of orange and navy garments in a corner of my room within two weeks. (Why is the folding and putting away so haaaaaaard?)

For the past few summers, all I have let myself buy are dresses. This works for me because it's waaaaay harder to find a dress I like than a cheapie shirt at Target or Old Navy, and this cuts down on frivolous purchases that fall apart. I have no use in the hot Texas summer for jeans and I already have enough shorts to make a good rotation, so this leaves dresses/skirts. And, I know myself, if I bought "uniform" shirts to go with skirts I would just spill salad dressing on them and turn them into pajama shirts and never, ever get rid of them and be reluctant to replace them and I HAVE ENOUGH OF THAT SHIRT THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

So. Dresses. They make me feel less frumpy, I look semi dressed-up, I can wear them with flip-flops, they require no matching. That's my plan for Summer 2012. (There's also the part about how I figure since someone barfed on me for all of last summer my "look" will be much improved no matter what I wear.)

7. This is the first dress I think I want to buy. $35! Yes! WINNAH!

The Garden, Week 7: The Part Where It Starts To Look More Like A Legit Garden

The State of the Tomatoes

Claire helped me measure the tomatoes today. (Day 46, for those tracking towards Days To Harvest.) It was interesting to match all of the varieties up and see how they're comparing. In each grouping there is definitely one plant doing better than the rest and now I'm really glad that I started with so many seedlings, then transplanted a bunch of those (and kept more seedlings in reserve), because it's obvious that not all of these will make it in the ground. 

(Short, squatty, shrively, Brandywine on the far left, I am looking at you.)

They're 3-6 inches tall and mostly happy. There are still plenty to plant and if only HALF of those produce, I should still have a mountain of tomatoes.

(Remember, the goal is caprese salad for dinner EVERY DAMN NIGHT.)

Raised Beds

Remember how I said that I was going to construct raised beds with lumber and my own two hands? Welllllll, I decided to throw some money at the problem as we are not very carpentry-inclined and we were probably fooling ourselves with the idea we'd BUILD them. (OURSELVES! HA HA HA HA HAAAAA. We must have been drunk.)

I bought two of these:

The reviews say good things and a few people have used them for a couple of years and say they still look great (they're not real wood, more of a plasticky composite with a wood pattern). They're not permanent, so if the spot we put them in doesn't work (for whatever reason) they're simple enough to relocate next season. And, for about $60? SOLD. I'm not even sure what cinder blocks or lumber or fancy cobblestone stacker things would cost, but the whole part where I can skip going buy it, cut it up, put it together, and hope I did it right? Oh, that is SO worth sixty bucks. (I bought two, so, $120, delivered to my door, hot ham I love the internet.)

This is what they look like if you decide to plant three-year-old children in them:

They took about six minutes to unbox and put together, which is exactly how long the baby can entertain herself on a blanket in the yard. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND these for would-be gardeners with short people wandering about.

(Obviously, I am not planting the children in these. Come on, please be serious, everyone knows children need large amounts of television indoors to grow properly.)

The Rabbit Problem

Look at how sad this is:

The rabbits got five plants last week before I wised up and moved the containers to a high table on the patio rather than the low, easily accessible for cat-size rabbits, wagon. 

For the most part, I'm super impressed that the only ones that died? They did not die because of my neglect! And? I had back-up plants to replace them with! (Don't tell anyone, but I think I am kind of good at this gardening thing.)

The Tree

I know, I know, it's a pretty tree. 

But it's blocking sunshine on that entire HALF of my yard and the other half has its own full sun issues and this is really the only way. It's also probably going to split if we get a really good storm in the next few years. (Highly likely.) The tree will be removed on Monday, sunshine will flood the yard, tomatoes will prosper.

The Whiskey Barrel

My local Lowe's had a stack of these and I kind of liked them. They're oak and the dude said they came from the Jack Daniel's distillery (who knows if it's true). I stuck my head in before I filled it and it smelled like delicious, sweet whiskey. (What? You would have done the same thing.) I stuck a basil and lemon thyme plant in (which I bought at Home Depot, since the bunnies ate all my thyme plants) and sprinkled seeds for oregano, cilantro, and rosemary and called it done. We'll see if they turn into anything.

Mid-way through my efforts (and after I'd gone to Home Depot TWICE in one morning, this is exactly why I do not do DIY) I noticed my sack of dirt had this note:

What the crap!? Not for containers? Well, too bad. I dumped two sacks of this stuff in there.

The Children

They played in the water table the whole time.

Me

Holy crap, gardening is a lot of work. I need a beer. Probably two.

The Garden: What does it cost?

My garden is a mixed-goal project. I'm not trying to spend less at the farmer's market or put food on the table for a dramatically cheaper price, or even make sure I have organically grown food. All of those things are fine and perfectly reasonable gardening goals (and the're definitely secondary goals of mine), but I mostly wanted to stuff my face with home grown tomatoes.

(It is a very elegant and noble goal, I know.)

I had NOTHING to start with. I've never even done a potted plant, so I was truly starting from scratch in both tools and knowledge. I tried to be frugal-ish, but I didn't devote a large part of my life to A Quest For The Frugal Garden because let's be serious, that sounds like a really boring way to spend my time. I'm going to weigh everything that we harvest, compare to the price of a similar, locally-available, item and do a sort of giant cost comparison at the end of the season. So, let's consider this Part One of the cost of a summer tomato garden.

Seeds, $54.60

Look, I know a lot of you are shaking your head saying, "Holy crap she spent fifty bucks on SEEDS?" Well, yes, I did spend fifty bucks on seeds. It's not that tough to do: 14 packets of seeds at $3-$4/pack, plus $10 to ship = fifty freaking dollars on seeds.

The thing about seeds is there are waaaaay more than I need in those packets. I don't need fifty of each variety. Next year, I want to go in with a couple of local friends to buy seeds and then split them up. (Ten or twelve seeds of each variety would be plenty for me.) I bought all Heirloom varieties and none of what I selected was available of my local Lowe's or Home Depot, which made me feel better about buying online and forking over ten bucks for shipping. I did not check my local gardening store, which might be something I should do but, eh, I'm lazy.

My seeds came from Burpee but I will buy them from Fedco in 2013 because the whole terminator seed thing makes me insane and fearful of the Zombie Apocalypse. (How will we re-start humanity with terminator seeds?? What a TERRIBLE IDEA that is.) (If I get REALLY hippie I will look into learning about seed saving in 2013, but I don't have the mental space for that this summer.) Next year, I'll probably buy from Fedco, because that's where Elizabeth shops and I got this whole crazy garden bug from her in the first place.

And, just to keep all of the information about my 2012 seeds neat, tidy, and in one post, here are my seeds and their descriptions:

Tomatoes

Brandywine. Heirloom. Dating back to 1885, this heirloom wins most flavor contests.

Mr Stripey. Pretty, sweet-tasting 1 lb. fruits with a high sugar content.

Amish Paste. Acorn-shaped Wisconsin heirloom: for paste, as a slicer, and in sauces.

Black Krim. Heirloom. Medium-sized, very dark maroon beefsteak, with wonderfully rich flavor.

Cherokee Purple. Heirloom. Its flavor is rich and full, and often compared to Brandywine.

Yellow Pear. Heirloom with pear shaped yellow tomatoes. Certified Organic. 

Herbs

Lemon Thyme, Oregano, Apple Mint, Sweet Basil, Cilantro

Other delectamables

Sweeter Yet Hybrid Cucumber, Clemson Spinless Okra, California Wonder Sweet Bell Peppers, Evergreen Long White Bunching Scallions.

Seed Starter Kits, $10 + $8 = $18

I started with the 72-count and, because I am insane, I thought 72 wasn't enough and panic-purchased an additional 25-count. (Note for next year: 72 is PLENTY.)

Jiffy Pots for transplanting (3 sets of 10, 30 pots total) $12

Soil (3) $18 

I got mine at Lowe's and Home Depot and it was cheaper than what Amazon is selling it for.

Whiskey Barrel, $30

Lemon Thyme, Sweet Basil, and Apple Mint plants, to replace the ones the bunny ate, $11

I bought mine at my local Lowe's.

Clamp Light ($10.68) and Bulb ($14.44), $33.02

I'm not sure what to think about these. I think having a light helped, particularly since I don't have a great window that gets a lot of sun, but I am not sure this bulb was worth fourteen bucks. I tried to do some research on what makes a bulb good for plants and what's just a regular bulb that lights a closet, but I could never figure it out. In the end, I have the sinking feeling that I paid for the word "plant" in front of "bulb." It seemed like a regular fluorescent bulb to me, but I really don't have any clue. The plants grew so....maybe?

Garden Stakes, (2) $16

Oh, look! This is where gardening gets kind of pretty! COPPER STAKES! OOOOOOO!

Trowel Shovel Thing, $10

 

Rakey Fork Thing, $.88

I think it's officially called a "cultivator." I like my made-up name better.

Raised Beds, (2) $126.32 

These are 3.5' x 8' and I got two of them. They're not here yet, so I'll let you know what I think after I get them together.

Still left to purchase:

Tomato Cages

Soil for the raised beds

Soaker Hose

Bunny Fence

Tree Removal (Yep, it still has to come down if they're to get any sunshine worth a toot.)

Probably a hundred other things I haven't even thought of. (Things to shoo away birds, bugs, and slugs! Fertilizer! Fancy tomato-harvesting basket!)

Total spent on garden, so far: $329.82

Oh my God, I literally just added that up for the first time and HOLY SHIT I am going to have to grow a CRAP TON of tomatoes to come even CLOSE to that number. WHOA. I mean, I know a lot of that is in start-up costs that I can use next year (like the raised beds, copper stakes, light, and tools) but WHOOOOOAAAAA. If heirlooms are about, what, $3 or $4/pound that's...about 94 pounds at $3.50/pound I'll need to harvest. If I don't spend another dime. I haven't even bought everything I need, so...We might be looking at something similar to $64 tomatoes. 

Delicious, homegrown, $64 (cringe) tomatoes.