It’s been two weeks since I opened my draft autobiography. With the end of garden planting in sight, it’s time to turn back to that work. When I read what I’ve already written it seems like magic. Who wrote all of that? Me. It was me, as unlikely as that sounds.
There are a few kinds of writing on this blog and I’ll be considering them as I go about another day in the garden. The last few weeks have been what I would call “moment capture writing”: I write about a significant event that happened in a few, brief paragraphs and move on. In many ways, these are my favorite posts to read because they tell of moments in my life that might otherwise be forgotten.
Hannah Ritchie wrote a Substack post called “Under-the-hood of writing on Substack.” In it she opines about the type of writing that’s needed on Substack (or blogs). She wrote:
If you do have some tolerance for criticism and have ideas to share, I’d tell you to consider doing longer-form writing. By “longer-form” I just mean more than social media posts or comments; 1,000 to 2,000 words that lets you craft a narrative and explain your thoughts with nuance.
This reflects my blog-writing approach. I’m almost always working through some intellectual puzzle. More on that later. For the moment I must use the last remnants of a very warm night to take care of indoor chores so I can get out to the garden after sunrise.
Six quarts of vegetable broth. The spring version helps clean out the freezer.
While working in the garden, hiking on the trail, cooking, or resting, I’m thinking about my return to writing once the garden is planted. It is particularly important to finish the second book this year and then decide whether or not to put both books in places where people can buy them in 2026. Having a schedule is part of the process. Doing the actual writing is another.
I mentioned that a chronological narrative beginning with arrival in Big Grove Township is not appropriate to this part of my autobiography. On May 25, I wrote:
Up to the time we moved back to Iowa in 1993, a chronological narrative seemed appropriate. Beginning here, in this place that was a vacant lot when we arrived, life got complex to an extent a time-based narrative doesn’t really capture those 32 years. There was no single narrative.
There are some stories I want to tell. Family life after the move back to Iowa is important. My work in transportation and logistics after 1993 covered a lot of territory, yet I want to reduce this to some major stories along with a summary of all I did after returning to Big Grove. Work has been important in my life, so a long chapter about that is in the offing. Becoming empty nesters was a profound change and that merits its own chapter. There was a long period when our child lived in Colorado and Florida, which made frequent visits difficult. My work in environmental activism, on the board of health and in the local food system all are worthy topics with personal meaning. When the money ran out in 2013, and how I coped with that seems important. There is a lot here, yet a lot gets left out by covering these topics. Sorting through all this has been on my mind.
Another writing-related thing is answering the question, What to do about Substack? I don’t post frequently there, but when I do, I get a lot of organic views, more than I do here. Now that the print service I was using to make hard copies of this blog went out of business, I haven’t found a suitable replacement, and maybe it is a good time to move. More on this topic as the summer continues.
Editor’s Note: Still planting the garden and making short posts as I can. It won’t be long before I’m back to normal posting.
The weather has been fabulous the last week or so. Mostly clear skies, moderate ambient temperatures, and normal relative humidity. Each day I begin a little earlier and work until just before I drop. That means about six hours. It is beginning to look like a garden.
Instead of working straight through on a single garden task, I have a couple tasks going at the same time. I work some on one, then another, and then another in small bits of time. It breaks up repetitive motion, keeping me healthy. It also makes garden work more engaging.
The last day of May was cleaning and organizing tomato cages and stakes, turning over part of the soil in plot #4, and then grinding all the desiccated tomato vines into the yard.
I picked a big bunch of greens: Pak Choi, three kinds of lettuce, and arugula. In the house, I managed three loads of laundry. By the end of all this, I felt tired and sore.
Here is a photo gallery of the best last day of May shots.
Trail hiking.Canadian Geese.Sunrise on the trail.Transporting tools.Turning the tomato plot.Tomato cages are ready.
I decided to call my morning exercise a hike instead of a walk. That’s mostly because when my sneakers wore out, I replaced them with a pair of hiking shoes. I don’t know if this will persist, but I’m trying it on for size, to wit:
Here are some photos from my morning hike.
Sunrise on the trail.The trail goes on forever.Reflections in the state park lake.A neighbor’s bush.Bur Oak tree leaves.
I was sidetracked by being a grease monkey for 90 minutes at the beginning of my outdoors shift. When I removed the wheel to replace the tractor tire, I did not realize the role the key plays. It uses friction to to keep the wheel turning as gears engage and turn the axle. No key, no movement.
I started the tractor and put it in reverse: nothing. A couple of YouTube videos later I understood what was wrong, retrieved the key I discarded from the trash and reassembled everything. The grease on my hands won’t come out using special soap, so I will have to wear it off. I drove the tractor to mow a patch in the garden… good as new.
My father eschewed being a grease monkey and encouraged me to find a different way to make a living. Toward the end of his life he was assigned duties as a forklift operator in the meat packing plant. He made a point of wearing decent clothing as he hauled pallets of meat around the warehouse. Decent meant a minimum of homemade repairs. His message was we could rise above the quotidian circumstances in which we came up and found ourselves. He graduated from college at age 40 as an example.
I was glad to resolve the issue created by mounting the wheel improperly. I resisted an urge to call the repair shop and ask them. I just solved the problem using tools available. Self reliance is essential if we will survive the authoritarian regime in Washington, D.C. We need to save our money for more important things like taxes, food, shelter, clothing, and healthcare. Today’s political trends have me living closer to the means of production. That’s a good thing.
Editor’s Note: I finished planting most of plot #3 on Wednesday. I’m waiting for the hot peppers to mature before transplanting them into the final row. Next step is preparing a tomato patch. In the meanwhile, my posts here will be shorter than normal. I do plan to return to “normal” at some point after the garden is in.
We must get on with our lives. There is no better time than right now to lean into empowerment of ourselves and our identities in the face of trying times. These are trying times. From the uncertainties of markets to the fragile nature of our environment, it is always something new, different, or difficult. We didn’t ask for this, yet it is our gift from the body politic.
I’ve been thinking about the trees on our lot that were damaged during the August 10, 2020 derecho. The mulberry tree, with a big crack in the main trunk, is beginning to lose branches. The Autumn Blaze Maple also has main trunk cracks. It is only a matter of time before they will have to come down. In addition, the two Ash trees are already dead from the Emerald Ash Borer. How does one deal with climate change? By getting a decent chainsaw, obviously.
I continue to lean into the garden and work until I can’t work any longer. The shifts are shorter than they were ten years ago. Nonetheless, it is beginning to look more like a garden.
Editor’s Note: I am short posting when I get time until the garden is planted. It is taking longer than expected, yet I am determined to harvest produce from this soil, this year.
Taking time from writing my autobiography is not a clean break. While I’m digging in a garden plot or walking on the trail, my mind is consumed by how to pull everything together and bring the work to a close. Up to the time we moved back to Iowa in 1993, a chronological narrative seemed appropriate. Beginning here, in this place that was a vacant lot when we arrived, life got complex to an extent a time-based narrative doesn’t really capture those 32 years. There was no single narrative.
Thanks to another low-wind, warmish, and dry day I had time to myself to consider the bigger picture of what I am writing. That and get the next big plot turned over. Well, by the time I finished this, I had turned it over with a spade:
Plot No. 3 spaded.
I read Lawless: How the Supreme Court Runs on Conservative Grievance, Fringe Theories, and Bad Vibes by Leah Litman this week. She points out how the U.S. Supreme Court takes more and more power unto itself without substantial resistance from the other two branches of government. While today the president is ignoring some of their decisions, whether there has been a Democrat or Republican as president, the Supreme Court is calling the shots in society through jurisprudence, according to Litman. (Major questions doctrine = good grief!) The attention hound of a president distracts from this very real center of power among the six Republican-appointed justices. If you are following the U.S. Government in 2025, consider picking up a copy and reading it. It informs what is going on in the news in real time. Few books I know are like that.
Today is the fire fighters’ breakfast at the fire station. The menu is simple, but not vegan or particularly vegetarian. I’ll go for my annual dose of pancakes and orange juice. I expect to encounter many I know so it’s not so much about the food. It’s about joining together as a community. We need that now more than ever.
Editor’s Note: I’m still on short posts while I focus on the garden. I have three main plots to go to call it planted. Wish me luck!
It was raining Monday morning so I drove to Monticello to pick up two 50-pound bags of garden fertilizer. It’s the same locally composted chicken manure I’ve been using since working on the farms, called Healthy Grow 2-4-3. I tried other types of fertilizer and the granulated format makes application easy. I don’t do the science of testing soil pH and selecting an appropriate fertilizer. Basically, I am doing monkey work by mimicking what successful vegetable growers have done at farms where I worked. The yield and quality of produce improved after I began using this fertilizer.
When I arrived at the warehouse, no one was around. I called ahead to determine if they had what I wanted. The trip is 35.3 miles one-way and I didn’t want to make it for nothing. When no person picked up the phone, I went anyway, taking a chance someone would be there. The main building was wide open, so I looked around. I walked through the office and warehouse and found no one. Despite about 20 vehicles in the lot, only two employees were there across the yard where a truck was being loaded. A driver was in his cab picking up a truckload of fertilizer. He asked me what I wanted and I told him. He said they would take care of it.
The office person loaded the truck, made necessary bills of lading, and dispatched the driver. He said it was their busiest day of the year and that he would get my fertilizer. Eventually another office person arrived and did my paperwork while the first loaded the two bags in the back seat of my car. I enjoy this annual pilgrimage to Monticello. What could be better on a rainy day?
It rained all day Monday and the forecast Tuesday was more of the same. The electric mower arrived Monday, so I’ll get that ready for use when the rain lets up. It was a concession to the fact I am aging, and can’t drive the John Deere on the steep side of the road without increased risk of a flip over. With the proper tool, it should be a safer mowing experience.
When it rains I am concerned about the downspouts from the roof getting clogged and flooding the window well on the east side of the house. With all the maple tree seeds flying around, it has gotten clogged previously. When I return from trail walking, I am sure to inspect the roof from the driveway to assess the amount of fallen seeds. Looks like everything went through the downspout so far. As I age, I try to avoid climbing up a ladder to clean the gutters. So far, I am down to once or twice per year. Would like to get that down to zero yet good help is hard to find.
Our community well was out of commission on Monday, which means I got out the large Rubbermaid drinking water container and placed it next to the kitchen sink for handwashing. I also got a gallon jug of store-bought drinking water to use in cooking and for coffee. We tried to use as little water as possible so we didn’t drain the lines. If the community does drain them, there is a public health procedure to follow to make sure unwanted bacteria doesn’t get into the lines and therefore into our vulnerable, unwitting bodies.
As I write on Tuesday morning, my main worries are getting out on the trail between rain showers for a walk. There are plenty of indoor chores to do, including a larger than usual amount of dishes for cleaning because of the water shortage. We actually need the rain, even if I’d rather get the rest of our garden in first.
Not sure what I will do the rest of Tuesday. There is plenty of work, so it will boil down to the most pressing chores. Rainy day or not, answering the question “what’s most important in our lives” is a constant activity. One we should relish while we can answer it.
My electric lawn mower was delayed in shipment. Instead of arriving today, it will be tomorrow. I attempted mowing the garden plot using a trimmer, but it doesn’t get the job done. I will clear off the weed barriers to reuse and be ready when the mower does arrive. I need to think a bit before planting this large plot, anyway.
Toward the west will be cucumbers and summer squash. That much is decided. There are green beans for direct seeding, so there will be a row of those. I need to put celery somewhere. I have chard plants started but not in the ground. The hot peppers and tomatoes aren’t big enough to transplant. I guess I will walk the ground, then walk in the greenhouse and the solution will become obvious.
Below the plastic weed barrier is a life seldom seen. Bugs, ultra-soft earth, evidence of rodents and worms everywhere. Starts of plants went nowhere because of a lack of light. The soil made me sneeze as I unintentionally breathed it in. The weather has been perfect for gardening. Except for a quick trip to town to get a lottery ticket, I was at it all day. I was immersed in it. It was spring, as good as it gets.
This photo does no justice to the color of the Iris, yet it is close. So I try.
It was hella windy the last two days. Forecast was gusts up to 50 m.p.h. Friday night, so I brought seedlings and the portable greenhouse into the garage for shelter. Today looks better.
Happy Sunday!
Editor’s Note: Another short post while I focus on the garden. Thanks for sticking with me.
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