Hugs for Gardeners

The new big thing in gardening is something old -- heirlooms. Variety is part of the appeal of growing heirloom plants. Imagine growing tomatoes as small as your fingertip or weighing as much as two pounds each, colored various shades of red, yellow, white, purple, pink, orange, green, or even striped. How about eggplants with tiny fruits that look like green peas, or pole beans with red pods that grow up to two feet long? Now consider the joy of knowing that eighty years ago, Great-grandmother worked the soil to grow those same varieties and lovingly stirred them into soups and stews that fed the family and nurtured the collective soul as they were handed down as favorite family recipes. Perhaps the best part about growing heirlooms (besides the great taste) is the glimpse they offer into the past -- the connection with those who have gone before us. Whether you save seeds and grow heirlooms or buy plants from the local nursery, gardening is about connections -- to the earth, to deep parts within yourself, to the past and the future. You may be an old pro from a long line of gardeners who passed on their wisdom or a neophyte just tentatively starting your first little plot. It doesn't matter. You're now connected, embraced. You are benefiting from what some family member or gardener did in the past. Treasure that connection, that link with the past. Remember it. Live worthy of those who have prepared the ground before you. And take care to pass along to another generation that special sense of relationship and interdependence that reminds us we belong to something bigger than ourselves. Chapter One: Heirloom Gardening Five-year-old Kate awoke with anticipation shortly after the sun came up, as she did each Saturday morning, and lay very still, listening for her father's stirrings downstairs. If she held her breath and listened hard, she would just be able to hear the coffeemaker gurgling its cheery preparations. And that's when Daddy would be sitting at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper. Beeeep!The coffeemaker sounded. That was Kate's cue. She scrambled out of bed with excitement and raced to put on her special "garden clothes." She stuffed her mass of curly red locks through the neck hole of her dirt-stained, favorite shirt. It was the pale yellow one with terra-cotta pots and bright gerbera daisies in red, pink, and orange on the front. Then she'd pull on the denim jeans worn thin at the knees and reinforced with patches of heavy material her mother had cut in the shapes of garden tools. Appropriately attired, Kate slipped downstairs as quietly as possible so Mom wouldn't hear. Kate didn't want to waste any of her special time on things like brushing her teeth or having her hair put in pigtails. Carefully avoiding all the creaky spots on the stairs as only a wispy little girl could do, Kate finally reached the bottom and peered around the corner. There sat Daddy, just as he did every Saturday morning. And just like every Saturday morning, he looked up from his coffee and paper and gave his little girl a smile that made her giggle and run over for her morning hug. "Good morning, Katie-girl," he always said as he pulled her into his lap. "Let's go see what's growing in the garden today." The two headed outside, stopping by the storage shed to get the proper equipment: man-size gloves and garden tools for him, child-size gloves and tools for Kate. In the spring they would work together to plant the garden. Everything had been started from seed months earlier. Her dad prepared the starter pots in his workshop in the basement. Kate would drop in the seeds and help water and care for them as they sprouted and grew. But she never could bring herself to do the thinning -- pulling out the smaller plants so the larger ones would grow big and tall. Sensitive to his little girl's gentle nature, her dad never diBicket, Tammy L. is the author of 'Hugs for Gardeners ', published 2007 under ISBN 9781416541790 and ISBN 1416541799.