That gadget you see below is a Soil Cube Tool. It was (very nicely) made by the good folks at Deeply Rooted Organics and (very nicely) sent to me as … well, I think of it as a personal challenge.
Because this isn’t really a post about gardening.
The tool is for forming — guess what? — cubes of soil in which to start seeds. A recipe for the soil mix and complete instructions come with the gadget. Upon receiving it, I went to the local farmers’ market, bought four packets from the Seed Lady (three types of salad greens, one type of carrot) and am now staring at the contraption and those deceptively innocent seed packets in a state somewhere between consternation and flat-out dread.
Oh, not that there’s anything inherently dreadful about the tool or the seeds. The tool is soundly made with hardwood and care. The seeds are local and organic and all kinds of other wonderful things, I’m sure. I have friends who would be just itching to get started — friends who’ve been fantasizing over their seed catalogs since Christmas and who simply can’t wait to get out in their gardens.
I think they’re barking mad.
I’ve mentioned before that I don’t approve of the outdoors. It can be fine for a morning’s dog walk and even finer for gazing at through a window as rain rolls gently down the glass. But Mother Nature didn’t design the outdoors properly. It’s always too hot or too cold, too wet or too dry. It contains altogether too much dirt, too many insects, and too many things that look sweetly alluring and will kill you dead if you’re foolish enough to fall for their charms.
Add the prospect of gardening and suddenly you’ve added dozens, thousands, perhaps even a googolplex of unpleasant variables. You know what I mean. Your soil’s either too acid or too alkaline. Too sandy or too full of clay. Too iron-rich or too iron-poor. Stick a seed into dirt and all of a sudden you have to know more about nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, and other trivia than a Ph.D. chemist.
Worse, each and every tiny little sprout demands unique conditions. Plant two seedlings of exactly the same variety side-by-side and one will faint if it doesn’t get full sun while the one next to it will fling itself on the floor, hold its breath, and turn blue if you don’t give it enough shade. Neglect them and they die. Fuss over them and they die. Neglect the instructions and they die. Follow the instructions down to the last comma and they die.
But you know, I’m supposed to be this preparedness person. Which means I ought to be a wizard at growing edibles. And I’m not. I am so totally not.
I’ve tried. Really. I’ve built raised beds, hauled aged horse poop, mixed up whiz-bang soils, bought seeds and plants of all sorts and all I’ve ever gotten from the exercise (aside from an empty wallet) is a handful of 2-inch carrot stubs, several hills of potatoes with their hearts rotted out, some iffy tomatoes, and several bowls of 1/2-inch strawberries that I could have gotten a lot easier and cheaper if somebody else had grown them. And if someone else had grown them, half of them wouldn’t have been eaten by slugs, either. (Slugs. Yes, here in the Great NorthWET slugs are another thing to love about the Great Outdoors. We grow ’em six inches long and bright yellow. And boy oh boy, do they love strawberries.)
But now I have this Soil Cube Tool. And these primo localvore seeds. And I’m about to spend my first spring in a house whose backyard may be a wreck, but is filled with soil that former owners worked on for years. (Seriously, that dirt out there is almost edible, it’s so gorgeous.) So I have No Excuse. I have to Try One More Time.
But this is not a post about gardening. Really.
—–
It’s a post about thinking.
When I bought those appalling little seed packets, the Seed Lady — with the depressingly chipper attitude of all People Who Love Nature — said, “You need to think positive. There was a time I didn’t believe I could grow things, either. But one day I just decided, ‘I can do this,’ and I did.” And now she sells seed and produces honey (presumably not personally) and is wholesome and natural as all get out.
I suppressed a snarl.
Much has been said about the power of positive thinking. From Napoleon Hill and Norman Vincent Peale to The Little Engine that Could, we’ve been told repeatedly that We Must Think Positively.
Well, for you optimists, yeah. That works. I’m not against positive thinking. You know me. I’m very big on thinking free to be free. I’m always going on about how the most important freedom tool is one’s attitude. So no, I’m not against positive thinking. I just know that we have to find our own kind of thinking, and that for some of us positive thinking doesn’t really do the trick. That’s why one of my books is called The BAD Attitude Guide ….
I’m a natural-born pessimist. It’s part of me. I have to work around that. I discovered long ago that if I wake up in the morning filled with sunshine and great hopes — the day is virtually guaranteed to turn to sh*t before noon. OTOH, if I wake up grouchy and approach life with cheerful suspicion, the day is bound to get better. Pessimism works for me. For instance, I dislike flying. So I simply assume that every time I get on an airplane, I’m dead. From there on, anything that happens short of dying is a plus. (Being stuck overnight in the Worst Freaking Airport in the Semi-Civilized World in between flights wasn’t exactly joyful. But it was still better than death.)
About 10 years ago I saw a study — just one and I don’t have the clipping of it any more — that confirmed what my life experience had told me: That positive thinking really does work for optimists, but that pessimists actually do worse when they’re encouraged to think positively.
Another study I linked to last week seems to point in the same direction. The findings indicated (among other things) that, contrary to all we’ve been told, cheerful, happy people don’t necessarily live the longest lives. Turns out that worry warts, pessimists, and the overly serious might just take precautions that lead them to live longer — and be more successful and satisfied with life in the long run.
Being happy ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Still, to each his own. Both optimism and pessimism can mess you up if you don’t work with properly with what you’ve got. The optimist who says, “Oh, everything will work out, so I don’t have to do anything about it” is making a mistake virtually identical to the pessimist who says, “Oh, everything will go to hell, so there’s no point in doing anything about it.” And both can work for you if you know how to “operate” them under a given circumstance.
All I know for myself is that if I took a cheery “can-do” attitude toward The Dreaded Gardening Project, eventual failure would only be that much more disappointing.
So after all that, I have two questions: 1) What’s your “thinking style” and why does it work for you? and 2) How the heck do I bend my mind around the dreadful prospect of planting a garden in such a way that — this time — I’ll actually be able to get carrots that resemble carrots and achieve lettuce and arugula that don’t taste like dirt or get consumed by Fortean plagues of insects before I have a chance to harvest them?
I’m a total pessimist and a cynic. I think I’m okay with it. I don’t have a large circle of friends, though, lol. Sometimes I envy the optimists, and wish I could see the glass half full. But it’s just not the way I’m wired up. I don’t have a lot of expectations and usually see the negative side to things. I think I am a realist. We’re just not living in a happy time. Others think I’m a “gloom and doomer.” Maybe so, but at least I’m not constantly fooled.
I can’t help you with the gardening, but I can commiserate with you on your anxiety about it. I’ve only grown herbs in pots on my deck, and they barely made it. Good luck with it!
“I discovered long ago that if I wake up in the morning filled with sunshine and great hopes — the day is virtually guaranteed to turn to sh*t before noon. OTOH, if I wake up grouchy and approach life with cheerful suspicion, the day is bound to get better.”
Seattle was similar when I lived there: rain in the am, sun by noon; sun in the am, rain by noon. I took a lesson from that — do my best when I feel my best, put myself on hold when I don’t.
“All I know for myself is that if I took a cheery “can-do” attitude toward The Dreaded Gardening Project, eventual failure would only be that much more disappointing.”
So the proper attitude toward gardening is “To hell with it!” I used to try doing everything perfect, and rarely succeeded. After I read a Master Gardener say ”Not every seed you plant will produce, not every flower will be pretty, so don’t worry about it; If it fails or you don’t like it, just start over”, I started taking a more insoucient attitude about gardening.
Now… three days ago I planted some turnip green seeds, and accidentally spilled a bunch in one place; so I’m thinking if anything comes up at all, I’ll have a turnip green *bush*! Can’t wait to see what happens.
I don’t see the glass as half full nor do I see it as half empty. I see it’s time for another beer.
Question 1. “When it rains, I let it.”
Question 2. “When it rains, I let it.”
After 30 years of this, I still don’t get it. Last year I had 7′ tomato plants with about 20 tomatoes. 8″ bush bean plants that we are still eating the fruits of. This year I have cauliflour and brocolli that are forming and iceburg lettuce that is a pale yellow. You could say I am somewhat cornfused.
I’m a great believer in positive thinking: I’m positive things can — and will — always get worse. So far, I seem to be batting a thousand with that philosophy.
RE: Soil Cubes. I’ve looked at stuff like that, but being cheap and generally pretty damned broke, what I actually use is paper pots. I use (for most things) a mayo jar as a form for old newsprint; wrap around, fold over the bottom, fill with potting soil (which I also mix my own). The whole thing can be put in the ground, avoiding the worst of the transplant shock.
Ahh…I could write (complain) volumes on this, but I’ll just share a recent incidence: Last night I went for a run with my freinds…my least favorite activity… it started raining and I had to hear my buddy start with all the “Oh boy! Running in the rain is so much fun and motivating and can’t you see that pretty rainbow coming out my butt?!” I won’t repeat exactly what was said but I took the time to have some choice words about running, shin splints, him, his momma and about life itself. So we ran, and I pretty much hated it but felt like a million bucks after I finished, and as we stretched out the roles were suddenly reversed: All those who were full of sunshine when we started suddenly had nothing nice to say and just wanted to crawl in a hollow log and die while I, and others with similar attitudes were so happy that the pain didn’t matter.
I find it to be this way with pretty much everything I do. I guess the big downside is that failure hurts worse, while the sunny overachiever can more easily shrug it off happily say “Better luck next time!”
But because of all of that, success so much sweeter…
As far as gardening goes though I’m a pretty big amateur…but my peice of advice is that if you have too much trouble with one thing, don’t be afraid to just scrap it, try something else easier, and come back to it later…
Optimism works for me. The “can do” attitude is a natural fit. It helps to be adaptable and versatile.
I can fix that cabinet. Out to the shop with it.
Well, heck I can make a table out of the remains.
I can make a nice bookshelf out of the pieces.
Dang, what a great bit of kindling for the stove and sawdust for the garden.
It’s all about keeping the rose-colored glasses duct taped to your head (they don’t stay on without the tape since I fixed them last).
Seriously though, regarding gardening success, the biggest ingredient is the soil. You have a great shot at it this time, Claire, because of the major bank account in good soil you are starting with. Keep feeding the soil. Something wonderful will come out of it.
Claire,
I’ve been lurking for years. I even own most of your books. Guess it’s time to come out of the closet.
I was going to chime in when you were thinking about emergency toilets but never did. I’ve been using a sawdust toilet, full time, for many years. And I live in an apartment.
First, what attitude works for me:
I’m a Christian so I know everything will work out great in the long run. Short run, however, I try not to have too many expectations. People (including me) have a tremendous ability to screw things up for themselves and others. Christians also realize that we have an adversary out there who likes hurting people. Let’s not go into that, however.
I cannot classify myself as either an optimist or a pessimist–I naturally take a “wait and see” approach. It drives my friends a little nuts (maybe I only make friends with crazy people?). When we have some really fun event planned I never look forward to it (“you’re such a pessimist”). When something bad is coming down the pike I don’t stress over it–does that make me an optimist? When I’m in charge of something I almost never enjoy it–I get over-stressed preparing for every eventuality and monitoring the details every second (I’m a control freak). If someone else is in charge I sit back and let them handle it–even if they screw it up royally (“Rick, you’re way too laid back”). I have, for some reason, been accused of inconsistency!
I almost always have a positive attitude, however. Each day I’m positive I’m going to learn something. I look forward to that. Come good or ill, I’ll still be learning.
That’s the approach I take to gardening (on borrowed land). I live on Florida’s lovely suncoast. The soil here is…interesting. Imagine slightly coarse talcum powder but without talcum powder’s fertility. Rainfall is fun, too. It hardly ever rains in the winter–our prime growing season. During the hottest months, when bugs abound and the heat kills even tomato plants, we have plenty of rain. This can be challenging.
I don’t think of my garden primarily as a place to produce food but as a place to learn how to produce food. Why start with a 100-foot row of lettuce when I can learn just as much from 5 or 10 plants? Not until I’ve learned how to grow a certain variety do I switch to “production” quantities.
Regarding slugs: ours are little–between 2 and 4 inches. Ducks do a fine job of eating both slugs and snails (we have Muscovys because they’re tropical birds). I’ve been told that banana slugs can only be eaten by the larger varieties of ducks–Muscovy, Pekin, Aylesbury, etc. Large ducks are generally calmer, too. If you got a single hen (Aylesburys are very pretty) she could provide you with some eggs and keep your yard clear of creepy-crawlies. There’s another plus side to a duck; if the plants aren’t doing too well she could “accidentally” get into your garden and eat all of the little plants. Then you can brag that you’re successfully raising your own pet food!
Rick
I try to to keep the “I Can Do It” attitude-it usually works for me(tho’ Murphy will not be put aside). Can Do doesn’t mean you’ll get it right the first time, or that it will be easy, or turn out like you think it should. Failure is always an option,and some may be spectacular.
I haven’t planted a garden in a long time, but I had fair-to-middling luck at it. My grandfather planted a large garden every year. In his words(more or less) “Throw sh*t on it,plow it in,and plant by the signs”. It seemed to work for him.
Optimistic people are usually disappointed and pessimistic people are always surprised…funny how the “negative” sounds more positive when said in that way….People who think logically tend to be pessimistic, they can’t help it – it makes more sense…..
My gardening success is kinda hit or miss, the misses are mostly soil issues (sounds like you have an edge in that respect)…My eventual solution was to just not eat anything vegetable related – but if you think gardening is hard, growing an eventual meat dinner is just as tough (sorry, bad pun)…..
I worry about what will happen after TSHTF, too…Especially since I think a lot of TSHTF is going to be food availability……I tried to store as much as I could (bought from other sources) as a head start/in case something didn’t grow…..
However, you just have to try out the new gadget (and your new garden area) – since they were nice enough to send it to you……even if nothing sprouts out of it, you can still determine if it works making little soil cubes – maybe even make a business out of supplying them to people with green thumbs…..*see where I’m going with that idea, LOL – bartering soil for their veggies* hehe….
Whoo. What great responses. 🙂 And how nice to see that pessimists and optimists can all get along so well.
“When it rains, I let it.” I often wish I had that attitude.
Rick Burner — welcome to the comments! and thank you. Ducks, eh? Now that’s something I’ve never considered. And I didn’t know they could be used for slug control. In my case, I fear I’d have a revised version of “The Farmer in the Dell” — “the slug takes the leaf, the duck takes the slug, the dogs take the duck …” Which, I suppose is another form of raising my own pet food! Maybe I should get a goose instead. Those babies are mean enough to hold their own against the pups. I was thinking chickens, but this opens things up a bit. And I have a couple tiny ponds that a duck would probably like.
Funny, though … all this advice on how to approach the Dreaded Gardening. It gets me thinking. Then I went to the library this morning and picked up some books waiting on hold for me. One was a dog-behavior book, Ceasar’s Rules by Ceasar Millan. Books that have arrived at the library as hold each come with a slip of paper sticking out the bottom that has the patron’s name and other info on it. I opened the book to pull the paper out, and there in big type it said “Rule #1: Be calm and assertive.”
I’m not sure that would work for plants, but it might be a good attitude for me to begin with.
It’s been said that one has to kill at least 100 plants before one can be considered a gardener.
Plug Nickel Outfit — OMG, I must be a master gardener by now!
I guess I fall into the Que sera sera category most of the time – ever more so as I age. I love CoolChange’s “When it rains, I let it”. I even collect it and water the plants with it. As they say, same pay fighting or marching.
If you don’t want to garden, then get produce from the seed lady in exchange for a lesson in faux tile painting or a piece of your jewelry that you did enjoy doing. If you’d like to grow some vegetables in that wonderful dirt, then throw some seeds in it, see what happens and just don’t call it gardening. Call it creating or call it revolution against ADM and ConAgra or call it waiting for the next installment of the latest mystery to unfold. I’m in that waiting for the mystery column. Once I start seeds, I’ve got to check on them about every 2 hours, baited breath, anticipating the first little signs of life(Drives DH nuts.). So far, the only things I’ve had really good luck with are cabbage, brocolli and cauliflower. I’m still trying out different tomato varieties for the short season here. I may be the only person you’ll ever hear of who can’t grow zuchini, the most idiot-proof and prolific vegetable on the planet. I’ve now gone over the edge where I will by god grow a zuchini and I refuse to be defeated by a squash.
Sorry for the ramble, but I so enjoyed your post that I just had to participate.
Can I suggest Square Foot Gardening? http://www.squarefootgardening.org (and .com for their store).
I started my first garden last summer and it went great! It’s a bit of a hassle to start since you have to build your own soil mix, but it worked out really well. We’re going to do more boxes this year. My soil is clay with a lot of rock, and the soil mix eliminates the need to deal with the original soil.
I’d recommend the book over the site, but then again, I’m a paper person.
The follow-up soil maintenance is pretty simple – mainly compost – home-made is best.
I believe that things are going to go to Hell, and that I am going to handle them beautifully.
Does that make me an optimist or a pessimist? Or just a compulsive problem-solver? I do love a good challenge, which is good because life keeps handing them to me :p
As for gardening, I’d suggest growing weeds. (Note: not weed, weeds. Mind the difference. I’m not saying you can’t grow both, but that’s a different subject.)
There are many garden plants that grow vigorously enough, and in such a wide range of conditions, that they become invasive in some areas and are considered “weeds”. Amaranth, wonderberry, sorrel, and parsnips are some of them. Just sprinkle the seeds around and let them fend for themselves.
Karen: my mom can’t grow zucchini either, so you’re not alone in that!
Ducks are much less trouble than chickens–especially in a wet, mild climate. Some people don’t like duck eggs, of course.
Geese are very interesting animals. I’ve never owned them but my neighbor did. They would attack everyone but their owner. They even chased her children.
Geese are also vegetarians. They wouldn’t eat a nice, juicy slug even if you slathered it in Hollandaise sauce.
Zucchini! I try growing one or two plants every year and get one or two squash every year. For me the main advantage of zucchini is that the bugs eat it first before moving on to the other plants.
I’m pretty much a literalist, realist… whatever one calls a person who takes things mostly on face value until proven otherwise. Some days are diamonds, and some are stone. You do the best you can and see what happens tomorrow.
That certainly doesn’t rule out some planning and frugal preparations, of course, just means you don’t agonize over any of it.
Gardening in Wyoming has proven to be much more of a challenge than it was in the middle of the Mojave Desert of California. I have much to learn, but four plants in a “raised bed” created out of an old tire and some bought potting soil produced 40 pounds of nice tomatoes last year. I can’t wait to see what I get this year. 🙂
“Call it creating or call it revolution against ADM and ConAgra or call it waiting for the next installment of the latest mystery to unfold. I’m in that waiting for the mystery column.”
LOL! That’s probably the best motivator for me that you could have come up with! Nice one, Karen.
And Ellendra … good comments.
JuliB … seems to be that square-foot gardening is one of the things I’ve tried in my dismal past. But I’ll take a look again. Actually, my tiny backyard already has small raised beds and beautifully nourished soil, and the former owners sunk some flowerpots into the dirt in some places and were growing individual lettuce plants, strawberry plants, etc. in those. So it’s almost like a square-foot garden out there already.
Thanks for all the suggestions, guys — and the laughs.