What does it mean to be an individual? Are you a person? A sum among parts? An island? A unique person, maybe? What does it mean to do things individually? What does individuality mean to an individual? I really wish this word, and its forms, weren’t so tricky to spell with my slightly dyslexic mind (not formally diagnosed, but it runs in the family). It’s a lot to digest, but this has probably been stewing in my mind for the past year, waiting for me to plate it up.
My culture is incredibly individualistic, and this is expressed in good ways and bad. One good way is that my country is a land of immigrants and indigenous people, meaning there are voices, ideas, and ways of doing things. But when there are people, there are forces of wanting to fit in, wanting to control and suppress, and prescribed ideas of the “best” way. I think this has been at the forefront of my mind because I see a vast amount of content being shared online saying originality is dead, or personal style has been killed by the algorithm. We are all core-ified or aesthetically boxed in, and social media has commodified subcultures. But it’s the internet, critiquing the internet, so we’re of course using broad, and extreme brushstrokes here.
Where my mind has drifted to is the sameness. I see people online discussing the boringness of everything from movies to the same cosmetic procedures, the bland landscape of interior design, and starter pack cliches for “types” of women. There is a sea of Petite Knit patterns, a galaxy of Marvel media that repeat the same formula, reboot television, and romantic tropes pushed by publishers and BookTok to make everything fit nicely in the digital marketing ecosystem. Then we fall into nostalgia, like recession pop, which I found myself listening to the other day, reminiscing about my first summer as a member of Geneva’s painting crew in 2010. Thinking about how different life was before I even had a Facebook.
What we talked about and the memories I made with the women and men of my team were tangible, not digital. We discovered what we liked based on environmental forces, like books assigned in school, books suggested by a friend, etc. Music was discovered and shared by radio play, recommendations from others, and shared playlists that your friend curated, not the music streaming platform or the algorithm. I thought a bit less about my appearance, I mean, in adolescence, you are quite aware, but not as much as the smartphone era has brought attention to the physical image of ourselves. I had fewer pictures, grainier pictures, but more memories. Strong memories are tied to tangible things, like songs, food, books, buildings, and movies. We were all very different from each other, yet we could find commonality, and this is where the gears in my mind started turning.
We were part of a group, but had individuality. Yet, nowadays I feel more like I’m in a void, of no commonality, except for how everyone is into the same things, and wears the same clothes, yet we are not connected, communicating, nor would I even consider that despite our shared things we are on a team or part of a community. It’s hollow.
I think we are missing the point of life. We are not working towards something together. We are not part of communities. We are part of aesthetics. We have become fans not of art or sport but of corporations like Target, Lululemon, Sephora, Stanley, and Tesla. Well, probably not Tesla anymore. Target is also being boycotted, so…anyways. Apple, Alo, Rhode, Kate Spade, Trader Joe’s, Labubu. That’s more 2025, phew. Why are we stanning companies? Why are we considering shopping for a hobby? This is not a way to connect; it is a way to consume and drown in stuff instead of substance. Our roots are becoming so shallow, and our debt is vast; we are plants choked out by the weeds of hyper-individualism. We have let originality become a thing achieved not by character formation and real-life community, but by the path of purchase. Purchases for ourselves. It snuck in so fast, I didn’t realize how the art of gift giving has become a self-care checklist. Yikes! It wasn’t until playing Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing: New Horizons that I was struck by how topsy-turvy my own culture has become. Our priorities are whack, and I believe it has made us lonely, shells, devoid of individual thought, buying our way to “happiness” because all we think about is our individual needs above all. We have forgotten that humans are fulfilled by the relationships and communities we are rooted in. It’s time to break the spell.
In this week’s update, we were able to finally get our vegetable starts in the beds, spent a lot of time in the garden watering and weeding, and got a start on the last two garden beds. Plus, I share a few mistakes I’ve made with our garden and my plans to remedy them.
Transplanting Starts
In last week’s update, I mentioned that we had transplanted a bunch of flowers we bought last weekend. Those were planted in various places throughout our yard; however, due to cool overnight temperatures (high 30s) and a ton of rain (over 3 inches in a 24-hour period), we were uncomfortable with transplanting our vegetable starts. This past weekend, we were able to get them all in the ground. That included all the plants I started from seeds as well as a few starts we bought from the greenhouse. These were Black Krim tomatoes, tomatillos, ground cherries, and spaghetti squash. These were plants that we either didn’t have seeds for or wanted more security in transplanting larger starts.
Transplanting a tomato start
Transplanting these was straightforward but time-consuming. Fitting the starts into beds that already have seeds takes some planning. We want our plants to complement each other by pulling and supplying nutrients in a mutually beneficial relationship. We also want to make sure we’re giving them enough space while also planning for more starts to be transplanted in the future. This process appears to have been successful.
We were very intentional in adding the appropriate soil amendment for each plant and also tried to keep the soil loose around the plant. If you remember back to the beginning of my writing about our garden, our soil is compact clay. We don’t think it’s ever been grown in, so the grass was pretty thick with well-developed roots.
Spending Time in the Garden & Watering
With seeds and plants in the ground, we’ve been able to spend a lot of time in our garden. We’ve largely transitioned from the planning phase to the establishing phase. We’re in the garden on a daily basis, checking for progress and assessing the need for natural pesticides or weeding. We also water on a daily basis at this stage while the seeds are still germinating or the transplants are taking root, and it takes a lot of water! We really enjoy watering with cans because it’s a more hands-on experience and bought a second watering can to help.
Nasturtium, tomatoes, tomatillos, and ground cherries
Regular watering also means we’re getting to put our rain barrel to use. Earlier in the spring, we bought a 55-gallon blue barrel and converted it into a rain barrel with water coming from our garage’s downspout. It’s difficult to believe how quickly it fills. A steady rain over a few hours will fill it from empty. It’s been nice not having to pay for the water we’re using. At the time of writing this, we have only had to fill one watering can with city water. Everything else has come from the rain barrel. I’m sure that will change throughout summer when it’s hotter and we may go a week or two without rain, but it’s still a wonderful blessing. We also plan to buy a second barrel for the other side of the garage. It’d be nice to eventually have three or four barrels around our house so we only have to use city water on rare occasions.
Starting the Final Beds
On Sunday and Monday, we got the final two beds started. On Sunday, Magz mowed down a large portion of grass and did the first pass with the tiller. On Monday, I followed up by tilling it a second time and also going back to a bed I started a few weeks ago and giving that one its first pass. With those beds started, we can see the finish line. We’re only a few tiller passes away from being done with that step in the gardening process, which feels like a huge accomplishment. It will also mean that the hardest work is done. When they’re done, the work will mostly consist of what I call maintenance: watering, weeding, and amending the soil. That will eventually lead to harvesting time.
What’s Next? Recognizing Seed Starting Mistakes
Between now and next week’s update, the plan is to continue tilling the last two beds, build a raised planter box for our long beans, and restart some seeds. The plan was always to start additional seeds once the first batch of seedlings was transplanted. We want to take advantage of the beds we have and grow as much as possible. What I didn’t plan for was the mistakes I made when starting our initial batch of seeds.
I have experience starting seeds and have had success doing so. However, before this year, it had been three years since we gardened, and I felt rusty. I turned to YouTube and blogs to refresh my memory, and I think they led me a bit astray. When putting the seed starting mix in the cells, I kept the soil loose rather than pressing it a bit, which resulted in the roots struggling to develop. I noticed a big difference between our starts and the ones we bought at the greenhouses. The greenhouse starts had roots that wrapped around the soil and allowed everything to come out in one cube. Meanwhile, our starts were loose with shallow roots. I think the soil composition had something to do with this. Other things I’m confident I messed up are how I watered the seedlings and the way I thinned them.
Moving forward, I’m going to make the following changes:
Tamping down the soil a bit before adding the seeds and also pressing down the soil that is added on top. In recent days, I’ve read about the importance of having contact between the soil and seed, which makes sense.
Pre-moistening the soil rather than relying on watering after the seeds are sown.
Watering from below rather than above. I went back and forth between using a spray bottle and a cup to water the seeds/starts. It became difficult to not flood the cells or potentially damage the young starts. This time, I’m going to fill the trays and allow the cells to dry out a bit in between waterings.
I will be thinning the starts by cutting them at the soil surface rather than plucking. I’ve learned that pulling the starts disturbs the roots of the plants you want to keep, which I saw evidence of.
I will follow up with how successful these changes are. Have you made mistakes in your garden that forced you to make changes? If so, I’d love to hear about it. I hope the mistakes I learned can help you in your garden. Happy Gardening!
The term “unmasking” was new to me when I first learned of my neurodivergence. I saw it on Pinterest and Instagram, displayed in captions and little relatable memes, but what did it mean?
I felt the full experience of what it means a few nights ago when I was invaded once again by rising anxiety, flooding through my mind, and this pressure, invisible yet firm, closing in on me. I knew deep down that I was close to having a meltdown, from environmental things that a neurotypical would brush off. I also knew that I couldn’t melt down; it wasn’t safe to be me. I couldn’t stim, that would be looked down upon with pity. I had to put on that mask, the normal-brained facade I’ve studied my whole life to become invisible and just blend into the sea of normies.
I feel this pressure to mask the most when I am interacting with my family. My mom and her side, for a brief time, my dad and his side. It’s a quagmire, being the offspring of two very domineering, neurotypical, narcissistic humans.
It’s a lot of work. Why am I sharing this? Because if you feel this way, you are not alone. I see you. I support you. I am rallying for you and I to make it through these moments holding space for us to be as we are, and to feel like we are enough. We don’t need to be fixed, we need to cope with this wild world that doesn’t understand us.
Like an ill-fitting garment, the clothes are the problem not your body. Your brain is not the problem, the world favors one way of doing things and that doesn’t make it right. Being louder doesn’t make your point more correct. There is nothing wrong with who you are and who you were created to be.
I hope wherever you are, this finds you well. That you are safe, loved, valued, and being kind to yourself. The world needs more kindness. Know that I love you and support you. Take the mask off, breathe, stim, and find peace.
I originally wanted to write a seed history post on this seed, the Kebarika bean. Unfortunately, I have struck out with my research. Instead, I wanted to share the seed’s beauty with everyone and also discuss some of the information I was able to find. It’s an heirloom variety from Kenya and was probably introduced to the United States sometime in the 1970s or 1980s. According to sources, it first appeared in the 1985 edition of the Seed Savers Exchange Yearbook. It was later provided to the Victory Seed Company by seed conservationist Mark Futterman in 2004. Victory Seed Company has an excellent resource that compiles Futterman’s seed notes; however, for the Kebarika bean, it only mentions the years he grew it.
Kebarika Bean Seeds
Beyond that, there’s very little information. It doesn’t appear to be an overly popular bean and has a relatively short life as a commercially-grown seed. I attempted to determine the word’s meaning in Swahili, but that led to a dead end. Also, the auto-detect feature of Google Translate read the word as being of Malagasay origin, which is one of the languages spoken on Madagascar, so that’s very confusing.
My plan is to continue researching the seed and its history in an attempt to learn anything about it. In the meantime, though, we’re going to see how it grows and tastes. It’s a shelling bean, so we’ll dry the pods to save the beans to be rehydrated in the future. I’m also planning to do actual seed origin posts in the future.
In this week’s update, the rest of our fence materials arrived, and we were able to install it around the majority of our garden beds. We also visited two local-ish greenhouses on Saturday and Sunday. This is our first chance to buy flowers to decorate our yard since we bought our house last year, and we’re taking advantage of it. After we bought the flowers, we spent some time this weekend planting the majority of the flowers we got.
Installing Our Fence
If you’ve been following the blog for a bit, you’ll know that we recently decided on the type of fence we’re using with our garden and purchased the materials we needed. As a refresher, we are using an extruded plastic mesh fence that is often used at orchards to prevent deer from getting to their fruit trees. Our fence came in 7-foot x 100-foot rolls and included zip ties and ground staples for anchoring. We bought 5-foot bamboo stakes in a pack of 50 that we attached the fence to.
Installed fences
The stakes went into the ground 8 inches, giving us roughly 50 inches above the ground. We placed a stake every 5 feet and used 3 zip ties per stake to attach the fence. We then put a garden staple between the stakes to anchor the fence to the ground. In general, it was a great process, and I think we made the right decision. It took about 45 minutes to install the stakes and another 45 to attach the fence. We were surprised by how easy it was to unfold the fence since it was folded into fourths. We also didn’t have too much of an issue with the fence stakes pulling over as we tensioned the fence.
We know that this fence won’t keep out everything, and a deer could jump it if it really wanted to. But at the same time, we’re pleased with how durable and affordable it is. We would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a cost-effective garden fence option, especially if you’re planning to upgrade it in a year or two. As an aside, we initially planned to put a smaller fence around each of our individual garden beds but ultimately went with one big fence to simplify things.
Greenhouse Exploration
This weekend was highlighted by visiting two greenhouses in our area. Both are family owned and have been in operation for over 80 years. Actually, one has been in business since 1919. Between the two greenhouses, we bought quite a few plants, including hibiscus, salvia, and begonia. The majority of them are perennials that can overwinter here. We also bought a few annuals and wildflower seeds for our furthest back flower bed. Almost all of the flowers and seeds we bought are pollinators.
Flowers
Finally, we also bought a few vegetable starts. They are either plants that we didn’t have seeds for or really like the vegetable and wanted to ensure we had a great start to build upon in case we have trouble transplanting our starts. We also bought two cilantro plants to keep Mia (our bunny) in a constant supply.
After we got back from the greenhouses on Saturday and Sunday, we planted some of the flowers but still have a few that need to be transplanted. The weather was uncooperative both days, with a cold front coming through our area, which has led to cool weather, cloudy skies, and wind. It’s not a lot of fun out in the garden when it’s that windy and cold, so we planted the flowers we could and will handle the rest over the coming days.
Up Next
With the fence up, we are finally comfortable with planting most of our remaining vegetable seeds and transplanting our starts. The starts have been on our screened-in porch hardening off so that they won’t experience shock when transplanted into the ground. With the fence up, the risk of little critters getting to the plants has dropped considerably. We’re going to start transplanting our starts today.
We have been having successful germination of the seeds that Magz directly sowed last week. All of the greens and brassicas have germinated, while the root crops (carrots, beets, parsnips, and radishes) should germinate sometime this week. Once the rest of our seeds are planted and the starts have been transplanted, we’re going to start some more seeds inside to increase our potential yield, get our potatoes into the ground, and finish the last two garden beds. At that point, all of the prep work will be done…finally.
How is your garden coming along this year? Have you been able to get your seeds or plants in the ground yet? We’d love to hear from you. Thanks for reading. Happy gardening!
Gardening is not fast-paced. It’s quite the opposite. It takes many months to go from seed to harvest. Most of the time, you will see little day-to-day progress. Instead, progress is seen across the weeks and months. A plant may not show growth from one day to the next, but from one month to the next, it can grow twice its size, start blossoming, or ripen. Unfortunately, I am not a patient person. Actually, I doubt that many of us are patient. It’s probably the result of living in modern society.
Technology allows us to be perpetually connected with people on the other side of the world, to get instantaneous results when we have a question that needs to be answered, and have items delivered to our house a day after ordering. Those are all great, but if there’s anything that doesn’t meet our expectation of speed, it’s easy to become impatient and frustrated. Someone isn’t going as fast as you think they should when driving? We tailgate and pass as soon as we can. A cashier takes longer than we want in a store? We either bolt to the next register when possible or are short in conversation when it’s our turn. Things that used to be treated with patience are no longer.
Garden Beds
I think that’s why gardening maintains a vital place in our fast-paced society. You really can’t rush gardening. If you try to speed up the process, it won’t work. Roots won’t have the necessary time to establish, plants will wither if it’s still cold in the spring, and the fruit won’t mature if it’s harvested too quickly. So, what am I struggling with in our garden?
Seed Starting & Germination
My struggle with patience in this year’s garden started immediately. I wrote about my process of tracking the start dates for all the seeds we bought. I generally wrote down the earliest date for each seed, counting back the weeks from what is typically our last frost date. I didn’t take into account the possibility of not being able to transplant the starts into the ground because of excess moisture or low temperatures. I also didn’t consider the ramifications of seeds taking off and needing to figure out a plan until we can transplant them outside.
You can probably see where this is going. As soon as that start date arrived, I (generally) was ready to start the seeds. In my head, if I were late by a day or two, that plant was certainly going to fail. My focus was very much on the immediate and not on the long-term. Then, if a seed hadn’t germinated at the beginning of its germination window, I assumed it had failed. In reality, seeds can take the entirety of the germination window (and sometimes even beyond) and still be okay.
Tilling
Oh, the process of tilling. I will likely be writing a standalone post on the repeated tilling we’ve done. We started digging the beds in March, which was plenty of time, and got the first four established quickly. What we didn’t account for was grass regrowing before we could plant. Beds that we thought were in good shape have been overtaken by grass that hadn’t been killed. We’ve had an incredibly rainy spring, which has resulted in an out-of-control yard that didn’t give our garden beds a break. We’ve had to mow the beds on the lowest setting before re-tilling them, which was a bit frustrating. A positive is that we’ve learned the best way to use the cultivator to kill as much of the grass as possible when tilling. This has resulted in healthier soil that looks ready to be planted in.
At the time of this writing, though, we still need to finish the first bed, do another pass on a second, mow down the grass and re-till beds 3 and 4, and establish 3 or 4 others. That’s where the need for patience comes in. It’s tough being patient with this process because we’ve already put in a lot of work and needing to redo that work is a bit frustrating. There’s a lot of the “trust the process” going on here. Yes, it’s been a lot of work, and there’s still more to be done, but each time we till a bed, we make more progress. More grass is killed, and the bed becomes more suitable for planting.
Weather
I think weather may seem like a bit of a copout here because almost every outdoor project requires patience with the weather. Very rarely does the weather cooperate with our plans, and this is absolutely the case in Western PA. If you want it to be sunny, it’ll rain. Looking for rain? It’ll be blazing out. This year’s garden has been one long battle with the weather and it not doing what we need.
Mid-March was mild and allowed us to get an early start on tilling. That was followed by a lot of rain in late March and throughout most of April. That led to grass retaking the garden beds. Finally, in May, we’ve been getting the weather we need to address all the beds. My patience was certainly tested during this time period. When it was raining, all I could think about was how quickly the May 15th (average last frost) date was approaching. I also saw all the work that still needed to be done: beds re-tilled, new beds started, seeds sown, and starts transplanted.
The craziest part is that this impatience has now gone in the other direction. We are actually in a good place with some seeds sown and most of the beds taken care of. We’re also now on the right side of May 15th, where we aren’t late with our planting. I’m now finding myself so excited that I need to be patient and wait to plant the rest of our stuff. Would it be problematic to plant everything else now? Probably not. The nighttime lows aren’t problematic. But there also isn’t a reason to rush at this point. What a difference from a week ago.
Lessons to Learn
As I mentioned in the intro, it’s my belief that everyone struggles with patience. I think it’s part of the human condition and the result of the first sin. The Old Testament provides many examples of the Israelites’ battle with patience and trusting God. I think that same struggle has been passed down through the generations, and the struggle to be patient is perhaps harder than ever when we live in a world that is constantly pushing for better efficiency and quicker responses. There’s very little opportunity to sit, dwell, and ponder over things. I think about how philosophers, theologians, and inventors from centuries past would simply sit and think about their subject, working through problems. As Christians, we would say that it is the Holy Spirit leading us in these moments. We rarely give ourselves the freedom to sit and be still. I’m perhaps more guilty of that than anyone I know. I am always looking for the next thing to do or the next step in the process. In my mind, very rarely is that next step sitting and waiting.
I think that’s why gardening is both incredibly tough but also very rewarding. It’s tough because very little of it is in our hands. We can’t do much to speed up germination or plant growth. Sure, we can give them nutrients to aid in the process, but the plant still takes a certain amount of time to reach maturity. Attempting to expedite that process can actually cause more harm than good. The reward that comes in the end when you’ve picked the perfectly ripe fruit makes everything worth it, though. And while the growing process is taking place, if we can simply learn to find peace and comfort in the quiet and slow, I think we’ll learn to handle our fast-paced environment a bit better.
We’ll never be able to keep up with modern society, and I don’t think that should be the goal. If you’re a believer, you’ll know that our faith journey can be a slow one. Sometimes, it feels like two steps forward and one step back. There are even times when it feels like the opposite: one step forward and two steps back. But being patient on the journey and letting Jesus refine us as we draw closer to Him is incredibly important. Salvation is very quick, but sanctification is a slow grind at times. It’s like gardening: germination can happen in a few days, but the process of getting the plant to full maturity is slow.
I’ll leave you with this. John Muir is one of my favorite people in American history. He was a 19th-century writer and naturalist who helped establish multiple national parks, founded The Sierra Club, and his influence helped to establish the National Park System. He’s important to this conversation about gardening and patience because he lived during a time of rapid growth and industrialization. When he was born in 1838, there were 26 states. When he passed away in 1914, there were 48. During this period of population growth, he wrote about the importance of nature and getting away from society to find peace. One of my favorite Muir quotes is: “And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” It’s pretty easy to see what he was talking about. I think there’s something deep within us that makes us want to connect with nature. For Muir, it was escaping to the mountains. I love doing that too, but I think we can also find a similar reprieve from society in natural places closer to home, like our gardens. If we allow our gardens to become places of peace of tranquility, where we don’t take our phones, but instead be content with talking to our plants and watching them grow, I feel that we can let some of the stressors of modern society wash over us. If we do, all of a sudden, the impatience we feel with gardening may take a backseat to the calm the garden provides us.
Do you struggle with patience when it comes to gardening? If so, how do you combat it? Likewise, what does your garden mean to you? Is it simply something that provides food for you or is it a place or escape?
Do you ever look at an item you want to buy and think, how hard can that be to make? Well, that’s exactly how we got here.
Floor Culture
I’ve been moving my sewing room around, I took down my sewing table and moved to the floor. Which I know sounds extreme, but seriously, sitting on the floor is underated. My back and hips don’t get tight and my posture is improving. In the West, I think we have been foolish to move away from sitting on the floor and should acknowledge how wise other cultures are to sit on the floor for health and posture.
I have a wicker chair that is good for sitting in when I want a break from the floor, but what I was missing was an in between piece of furniture that I could move depending on my needs. I settled on a floor cushion that could be used as a seat, a workspace, folded up in a cushion or rolled into the corner for yoga to add more stretch breaks to my life.
Quick Fix
But here’s the catch, I decided I needed this piece of furniture on a whim and that’s what I am trying to remove from my purchasing decisions – less impulse purchases. I want to become less of a consumer and use what I have, so I thought could I make what I want? Similar cushions for sale online were 100-400 USD and with the tarriffs looming, I was feeling a bit nervous to buy something.
But then I remembered my Mom made a pouf, she knit the cover. I’d watched Morgan Donner make things from her scrap and fashion a mattress from braided fabric. I had also begun saving my fabric scraps and sorting them into bags that were taking over my crafting closet. I just had to settle on the cover fabric and design.
Design and Materials
A large rectangle seemed like the ticket with corners I could sew crisply and easily stuff at the end. There was this one extra wide cut of fabric I bought from Joann’s last summer which caught my eye. It’s a fabric I bought because I enjoyed the design but didn’t want to wear it. It looks a bit like denim and had a lovely swirl pattern that I thought, would compliment the lavender paint of the room. With the fabric sorted, it was time to tackle the pattern and stuffing!
I measured the fabric into two large rectangles and four slimmer sections to form the sides. These I sewed inside out to leave only one end open to stuff. I sewed this by hand over the course of a day, I’d say in total the sewing portion of this project was the easiest part. What lay ahead next was tricky, blister inducing and stressful.
Stuffing and Scraps
I had bags upon bags of scrap fabric in varying sized pieces ready to be repurposed into stuffing, but the thing with fabric cabbage is that it’s not uniform. Which means there will be a lot of cuts to make. This I foolishly chose to do with my old fabric scissors, instead of using my rotary cutter and mat. I wish I had. The repetitive cutting motion wore a blister on my thumb and aggrevated an old injury on my finger joint.
My hands were tired, weak, and wrecked by the end of day one. Worse the cushion was 1/3 full. Not what I was expecting! How could it take that much stuffing?! With my bags of fabric scraps depleted, I moved on to new sources of cushion comfort. Such as yarn that I was given secondhand, which I had no creative plan for. This yarn was a super bulky, acrylic yarn, about 300 yards left, and perfectly fluffy for stuffing. I cut this into pieces and carried on auditing my stash.
I repurposed some old clotbes into stuffing, a blanket Mia’s little bunny chompers had chewed into swiss cheese, and more leftover yarn floating around my sewing room. Yet, I still lacked the floof I was after so I broke down and browsed the interweb. I knew polyfill was an option, but it’s also polyester and the point of this was to repurpose and use up things, not go to Walmart for polyfill, which happened to stretch very little. When I made a bolster pillow for our couch out of an old sheet, I went through 5+ bags of it. Whuch made me wonder, are there alternatives to polyfill on the market? There are! I found a small business, selling cotton filling that shipped. This got me to comfortable fluff, I still need a bit more but I’m going to revisit it later.
Voila! A piece of furniture made (mostly) from what I had in my house that used up some trash in the process. I am pleased. 😁
As a Zillennial, on the cusp of both Gen Z and Millennials, my generation(s) have been stereotyped by the older folks as being afraid of phone calls, preferring a text to a voice on the other end of the line. And for a while, I’d say, yeah, I fell into this place of preferring a text as a teenager or chatting online, in my moody, insecure teenagedom, but then the phone call became this novelty of a thing. Calling someone seemed so serious, I became apprehensive if my question or answer was “serious” enough to warrant a call.
I didn’t want to be a burden, which is such a strange upside-down world from childhood, when the phone was the only way to contact your friends. I remember in the days of late elementary school, email being another exciting tool to communicate, like letters, but now email has become an intrusive contact on my smartphone. And maybe, that’s because email felt like real mail, when you could only check it on your window of computer time on the shared family computer. There was a boundary between online and offline. My mind has been marinating on this since watching a Theresa Yea video called, Why the Internet Will Never Be Cool Again.
I’m currently stuck in an endless game of phone tag, which is quite common when I am talking regularly to one of my parents. With my dad, it was a long game of waiting for that perfect window of nothingness. His layover in a city he found boring, I’d keep him company as he complained about life. Entertaining him and supporting him in his time of boredom, because if he were home, he was on the go every single moment. If I needed him, he would usually call me back on a drive home with a small set window for his attention span or horrible service.
My mom, in a similar fashion, gets stuck in these loops going non-stop. Except she answers the phone in loud restaurants, in the car, or at events, just to tell me that she is not available. She will even talk to other people around her, making me wait, or will pass the phone to the people she is with, as if I want to say hi to them when I really just wanted to converse with her about something important.
There is nothing like being on the brink of a panic attack and having your mom pass you to an acquaintance to say hi instead of listening to your crisis. Especially when you called because you thought they were home and available, but really, your loved one is always on the go. Not emotionally available. I hate calling and being met with passive-aggressive pressure to stop talking and let her go, even though she chose to answer the phone and enter into conversation like she was available at first, only to break that illusion as soon as you answer “how you are doing”. Read the room, kid, but honestly, how can I? This is particularly confusing when my parents both let me know how they would prefer me to live closer so I would be more available, but would it matter?
The video call and the text have become two of the most intrusive manners of communication, because a text should be responded to promptly and a video call, in her mind is perfectly normal to answer in a public setting like a restaurant or car without letting me know before I speak, what I believe I am saying in private to a person who is available to talk, to be swiftly gotcha-ed by the fact that I am not alone, and my privacy is not respected. The video call is like a two-edged sword; it is nice to connect with friends and family over long distances, but it is also a tool that hinders connection. It drops in unannounced and forces conversations that should be private to be open to the room.
I crave the dedicated correspondence of my grandma’s era, when she moved to another town, which meant that calling her mom would be categorized as long distance, and so she and her mom wrote letters to each other every day. I haven’t had that kind of connection with my mom since she got remarried, and I miss that feeling of connection, of being heard. It’s something that carried through my Grandma and my Aunt Florence’s generation, my phone calls with them being so intentional and full of connection. It was a visit, a catch-up, and was treated with hard boundaries. The common thread here is the lack of a smartphone.
Phones were still seen as tools to converse, not mini-computers full of distractions. I find this intentionality coming back to conversations I have with my friends; there are boundaries and moments set aside to converse without distractions. We have planned phone calls or dedicated pauses to set aside other tasks to write longer messages, like letters, through messaging apps. It has improved our communication and respect for each other’s time, in a way that I wish I could have with my parents. I just want to connect and not be connected. I want to converse and not call. I want to correspond and not text.
It is all a pipe dream, because this is never going to happen, they are just too enamoured with technology and the endless possibilities of their boomer generation, and the financial leg up that their generation has to be on the go and do things nearly constantly. We live in two different worlds, and that makes me sad.
In this week’s garden update, the weather and schedule finally cooperated, and we were able to get our third and fourth garden beds completely tilled. We were also able to put seeds in the ground. If you’ve been following our journey, you’ll know that our weather this spring has been brutal. After a long and harsh winter, spring started out cold. It then rained a lot and only recently began to dry out and be warm enough at night for sowing to be a possibility. Some of our seeds, such as mustard greens, were supposed to have been in the ground in early April, so we’re more than a month behind. However, on Saturday and Sunday, we were able to (mostly) get caught up.
Garden Beds
We planted (and by we, I mean both of us on Saturday, but it was all Magz on Sunday) onions, carrots, beets, greens, and some flowers. Something I don’t think either of us expected was the difficulty of planning where everything should go in the garden. You have companion planting to think about to ensure that beneficial plants are placed near each other. We also want to succession plant some veggies like greens, beets, and carrots to ensure a harvest all season. That means not planting too much to start but instead reserving enough space to plant more in the coming weeks.
We also want to plant flowers in our garden beds to help control pests while simultaneously attracting pollinators. The plan is to have these flowers intermittently planted with our vegetables to create a garden that is both productive and beautiful.
Not all of our seeds are planted, nor have our seedlings been transplanted. We’re planning to wrap that all up over the next week. May 15th is typically the last frost date in our area, so the plan is to sow the rest of the seeds and transplant our starts in the days around that date.
What Else Has Been Going On?
In addition to directly sowing some seeds, we were quite busy this past week. We began the process of hardening off our transplants by taking them outside and exposing them to fresh air and sunshine. That will make the process of transplanting our starts much easier, as they’ll be less likely to experience root shock.
Seed Starts
We also bought and received the fence that I wrote about in last week’s update. We ended up buying it from Amazon because, once again, none of the stores in our town had it in stock. We could have ordered it and had it shipped, but it would have taken nearly a week to get here. We’ll now need to figure out the style of post or stake we’ll use to attach the fence to the ground. Oh, and between everything else going on, the grass has been growing out of control, and keeping up with the mowing has been a struggle. I love our battery-powered mower, but it definitely has its drawbacks when the grass is really long.
One Rabbit Riot 