Sarah Palin of Gardening
Thanks to Sarah Palin, I have renewed confidence in myself. Because, if Sarah Palin can, so can I. If Sarah Palin can run as John McCain's running mate and possibly be elected as Vice President of the United States, the most powerful country on this planet, while knowing very little about politics, foreign affairs, the English language, and fashion (the up-do with bangs was in during the early 90s), then shit, America is open with possibilities for every unqualified, dysfunctional, inexperienced human being out there—like me! I can just pretend I know what I'm doin' and talkin' about, and that should be good enough, right? Oh, I forgot; I just have to look really cute doing those things that I don't know how to do. America, God bless you!
Finally I have a mantra. If Sarah Palin can, so can I! This is my renewed approach I have decided to take with certain aspects in my life, namely gardening. Because I have NO idea what I should do in order to be a decent and forthright gardener Nor do I really care. Unless you ask me. Then I do. Here's the deal: I have been gardening somewhat unsuccessfully now, for about 3 years. I mean, sure, I can grow plants. Those plants produce fruit. That fruit is edible. But, it's all luck and it's all a facade. I am always so amazed when little sprouts actually peek their little green arms out from the soil. I rejoice, "I did something right!" But, no. I mean, I guess I did something right. My garden grew. In all honesty, though, usually when someone plants seeds in soil and waters it on occasion, something green will grow. And, luckily for me, my garden turns out okay, when viewed by the unscrutinizing eye.
Yes, I Can!
But, if a true green thumb took one glance at my half-ass approach to growin' things, he/she would be somewhat dismayed that I could have made it so far without having collapsed into a writhing ball of self-defeat and misery. Like Sarah Palin should have done after her first televised interview. Katie Couric, you were too soft! But, Sarah Palin prevailed and really showed em' that all it takes is determination and a really nice haircut to be über successful, or to be one of the most powerful people in the country. Well, I just want to be a successful gardener. I am taking baby steps here. And, I have both determination and a nice haircut. (At least the girl at the grocery store checkout station told me so.) And by golly, I am going to try and make right by this gardening thing.
So, the next few photos should not be viewed as failed representations of a garden, but as down-to-earth, say maybe even cutting-edge, depictions of America's true roots, the nitty-gritty of the organic world. No one knows what makes a Joe six-pack tick like Sarah Palin, and so I can easily say that no one knows what makes a garden slug inspired like I do. Fortunately, both of those items require beer, and lots of it. So, that actually was pretty easy, a no-brainer really. Anyway, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that my garden is no longer the bane of my existence. It's a thing of raw, simplified beauty.
Check this out. I have a small field of mint. It's grown out of control. It ate up my wee jalapeno plant and my parsley. Because it looked like my garden was flourishing, I kept the mint domination intact. The sunflower is there for scale.
Mint Condition
The next image is depicting the collapsed dahlias that I planted from bulbs. They got a little too top heavy after they bloomed. Instead of researching the proper care, I just convinced myself that the dahlias were behaving according to nature's design.
Broken Dreams
Yep, that's a crumpled up paper towel next to my fallen dahlia stalks. Actually, it was pretty convenient because the dahlias sort of took it upon themselves to grow back up again. They sprouted some additions, so it actually looked like the plants were doing fairly well. But I knew they weren't. Like I said, as long as no one peers closely at my growing tactics, then I am safe. I can always distract a nosy, pesky inquirer by talking about my cats. That usually does the trick.
The next picture demonstrates my constituents, or what most would call their "harvest." My harvest this year consisted of cherry tomatoes (I didn't plant them, they grew out of my old compost pile, Score!), tomatillos, jalapenos, and mint. Lots of mint.
Harvest Time!
I think the cherry tomatoes can be considered an equivalent to Palin's hockey mom following. They sort of cropped up unexpectedly because I've sort of had a history with cherry tomatoes. I consider myself a salsa expert, and the cherry tomatoes have been pretty critical to my recipe for success. What's the difference between a cherry tomato and a beefsteak?... Just kidding. I have nothing, I just wanted to throw that in. Anyway. The cherry tomatoes are with me for good or for bad. They don't even need a spot in the garden to grow (and they don't have one). They'll keep producing just because they have no where else to go. Literally.
So, there you have it. My garden glory. Before Sarah Palin came along, I was questioning my purpose, my mere existence in the gardening world. I was going to throw in the towel. (Please note, the image below is a dramatization.)
Garden Slump
But now, I can legitimatize myself as a true gardener. If someone calls me out on it, I will just claim that they are being sexist, or insensitive, or a Nazi. For all you other failed gardeners out there, don't dismay! You're time has come, too. Sarah Palin is paving the way for us all. God bless America.