I come from a long line of farmers … on both sides of my family. You would never know that given that I currently live in the sprawling metropolis of Los Angeles. I am a city girl who enjoys the fruits of city life – 24/7 shopping, loud noises, so many lights that the evening stars are not visible. Both grandfathers – interestingly both named George – chose their life profession to be that of tillers of the soil. My father took after his father (although his name was not George! — that was my uncle who lived less than a quarter of a mile from us who was also a farmer) and sowed seeds on the land that would never be his in name or deed. As next generation in line, he chose to continue the contract for indentured servitude (aka tenant farming); a contract that ended with him as no other male Mehochko’s chose to continue. Almost everything that he brought forth was passed onto the landlord who didn’t break even a sweat during the planting or harvest as he looked down at us from his central air conditioned palace, located outside the city limits of Chicago.
Growing up, I never saw the attraction! I hated field and garden work! Pulling weeds, sweat pouring down my face – the frequent deer fly landing on my glistening brow, painfully biting down and attacking … leading me to smacking myself on the forehead time and time again!!! And, after working all day out in the fields, my dad found his hobby – his “relaxation” – to be spending time in one of his TWO gardens, pulling out even more weeds and caring for more plants. I never understood it! It seemed crazy to me! My mother joined in on the gardening madness, during the day, picking various ripe fruits and vegetables, which led to a frenzy of freezing and canning all sorts of things in the extreme humidity and heat. While inside, I could escape the deer flies, I could not escape the hours of cutting and peeling and packaging green beans, corn, carrots, tomatoes, etc. All for the promise of “oh, this will taste so good in the winter”.
I always dreamt of a life that did not include plants (especially weeds), deer flies, and hours upon hours of picking, cutting, cleaning, freezing and canning. After coming home the first summer after college to more picking, cutting, cleaning, freezing and canning – I found other work to do the subsequent summers. Working the college switchboard in a nice air conditioned administrative building and serving as a camp counselor for a couple of summers saw me through my college years. Upon graduation, I packed my bags for some California dreaming and the rest is history, as they say. City life has been my life for almost three decades.
However, the past couple of summers, I have strangely found a new outlet – a new hobby. When we first moved into this townhouse in Glendale, the master bedroom had this small balcony that I had blocked access from for at least a year with an exercise bicycle that I promised myself I was going to use at least once a day. Let’s see, in the course of the year, I did not ride that bicycle even once but I stubbed my toe on it plenty of times, trying to get access to the closet. It also became a convenient holder of my laptop bag and purse as it’s handlebars made a convenient coat rack. So, one day, I had decided a door knob would work just as well as a laptop bag holder and I got Thomas to begrudgingly move the exercise monstrosity of a bike to the curb. Now, I had access to the balcony.
After a quick clean up, I decided to go to Home Depot and get a few pots, soil, and plants and create a small herb garden. I began with basil, oregano, and rosemary with a bit of mint thrown in for good measure. Quickly, the little plants took off and I acquired a few more. I enjoyed snipping a few sprigs of this and that and tossing it into what I was cooking and was surprised how quickly the taste of the food was enhanced.
This spring, as my work life through myself and my personal life into a whirlwind of turmoil thrown in with a lot of uncertainty and despair, I have thrown more of myself into my little garden. I have planted the aforementioned herbs adding thyme, sage, parsley (yes, I now have parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme) along with two different kinds of chili peppers, Roma tomatoes, strawberries, and some flowers (petunia’s, marigolds, and Sweet Williams). I have also set out a bird feeder, much to the delight of my two cats who immediately freeze and stare the minute what they perceive as potential prey darts into their view. Too bad for the two felines that a sheet of glass separates them from what their natural instinct calls to them! I’ve created their very own, personal zoo!
In the evening, thanks to some solar lights that I got at Dollar Tree as well as a string of fairy lights in the form of dragonflies, I have some make shift lightning bugs and sparkle to add to the ambiance!
I have found great solace in pulling weeds (did I just write that?) …in working the soil around the plants … in watching what started as small, contained plants grow into a mini, urban fairy garden full of green lushness, blooms and promises of even more to come. Each night, I look forward to spending time at dusk, watering and caring for my makeshift little garden. The minute I open the screen door, the aromas of basil, thyme, oregano, etc. greet me as my my eyes delight in the evening splash of colors from the sun setting in the West. It is my own, personal getaway. And while it is not the Midwest and my name is not George (or Georgina, even) I have come to appreciate what generations before me long knew was magical. It just took me a little time to get here!
P.S. And there is not a deer fly to be found!!!
Two freeways diverged ... 