A Weed Grows in Uptown

In accordance with my two New Year's Resolutions of 1. Become a gardner. and 2. Get a life. I signed up to volunteer this morning at a place called the Ginkgo Organic Gardens. Getting there was a difficulty.. I thought of it too late to ask for a GPS device for my birthday, so you'd think that knowing myself, I would adequately prepare before setting off to find a place I've never been before. Not so. I looked at the map, saw the cross streets and set out. Did I write down an address? No. Did I write down a phone number? No.

So there I was, at the cross streets, with no gardens in sight. I drove around for a while before trying to call home to see if someone could look up the address on the internet. Voicemail. Then I called Jen's house. Voicemail. Then I called Brandie. Voicemail. Then I called Dad's cell. Voicemail. Then I called Kevin's cell. Voicemail. Then I called Corri. Victory! Except she doesn't have the internet. So then Corri called Robert. Voicemail. Then Corri called her parents and called me back with the address!

It was a great little urban garden that takes up one lot. The garden produces 1000-1200 lbs of produce every year which they give to neighboring food banks so that people who are utilizing those food banks have access to fresh, organic produce. I spent the overcast, 50 degree morning in 3 shirts on my hands and knees weeding the beds with the cobra-headed pick thing. Now I know why gardners are so calm--they get to take out their agression on the earth with cobra-headed picks.

Amazing some of the urban artifacts I came across--bottles, tires, bags, wheels, beads, headphones, etc. You wonder what someone would make of our society if they dug up those things centuries from now. Clearly the highpoint of contemporary civilization. Uptown is quite the mecca of American culture.