Garden
Kidding Around
A little one whispered in my ear, “Gampa-gampa, can we pull carrots?” In the Sacramento summer, there were no carrots to yank, but the request warmed my heart.
Children and gardening are a precious pair. My granddaughters always want to explore the garden.
They pinch off blueberries and grapes, sift through soil to discover potatoes, pluck lemons and oranges, pull carrots, and are fascinated when I turn the compost pile and insects scurry for cover.
A garden is a living classroom. Children absorb science, discover creatures, and learn ecological concepts and lessons about food and nutrition. The garden inspires curiosity and wonder. It offers a healthy diversion from TV, Minecraft, Roblox, Zelda and the idleness of screen time.
Getting Fresh
Basil summons memories of Biba Caggiano, the late Sacramento restaurateur, author and TV personality. Once my basil plants demand a leaf harvest, I revisit Biba’s pesto recipe.
On page 159 of her cookbook “Northern Italian Cooking” is Biba’s pesto sauce recipe. My book page is yellowing and stained with extra virgin olive oil drippings from decades of use.
The recipe barely fills a third of the page, but always exceeds my pesto needs throughout the summer and all winter in my freezer.
Just heed Biba’s wisdom, “If you plan to freeze the sauce, add the cheese after the sauce has thawed.”
Tranquilty Base
Gardens are sanctuaries, swathed in color, fragrance, creatures and peace. A church garden has more layers. It’s spiritual and steeped in creation.
Fremont Presbyterian Church, a block from Sacramento State University, is perched at the gateway to River Park and East Sac. It sprawls on four acres. One acre is garden beds, borders and open spaces wrapping buildings and parking lots in pleasing hues and textures.
Unrest throughout the world nudges us to seek tranquil environments, like gardens. At Fremont Presbyterian, pastors, the congregation and community are welcome to wander and worship among birds, bees and butterflies. Preschoolers can stroke soft velvety leaves of perennial lamb’s ears.
Project Eternity
Buddhist monk Shunryu Suzuki proclaimed, “A garden is never finished.” Ever changing, gardens evolve and aren’t frozen in time. Trees grow, leaves fall, perennials fade, tastes change. Evolution dodges closure.
Michael and Peggy Bachman can appreciate Suzuki’s Zen teachings. Living in the same Carmichael home for 25 years, their front yard is a half-shaved mustache. One side of the garden is stunning. The other is stubble, a weedy, overgrown mess of gardening yin and yang.
What was transformed a year ago is now a neighborhood attraction, a marriage of stone, statuary, tile, a fountain and Mediterranean plants. The design was inspired by a trip to Greece. Michael built the walls and applied his handyman talents to tiling, stucco and concrete work.
Tater Tale
Kind-hearted folks adopt rescue dogs. I adopted a rescue potato.
Like a dog, the humble rescue potato requires food, water and loving care. A potato will not offer companionship or cute tail wagging, but the reward is embracing an abandoned, endangered edible. Plus, good eating.
My potato already had a name, Bodega Red. Once, it was the star spud of the Bodega Bay and Tomales Bay area. Sorely neglected, Bodega Red was thought to be extinct more than 50 years ago.
Weathered Look
The Big Blow or, in meteorological parlance, the atmospheric river storm, howled through town in early February. Accompanied by 60 mph winds, it toppled trees, power lines, fences and all things not secured or firmly rooted. The county declared a state of emergency.
Surveying my wounded garden afterward, damage appeared minimal. I found fences and trees still upright. But what a mess. Winds ripped oranges, limes and lemons from my trees. The yard was littered with citrus. I gathered it up and carried it inside.