Mark Greene told me about his tomatoes shortly after I returned from Ireland. We ran into each other at the garden section at Home Depot that day. And, of course, garden talk monopolized the conversation.
"Come and get some tomato plants," he told me. I didn't have the nerve to tell him at the time that I had at least 30 of my own 'maters, which Bill had been watering in my absence.
Still, Mark's were a different variety, designed for cold-weather areas, so I thought it would be nice to accept his offer.
As usual, other projects caught up with me and I didn't go pick up the tomatoes. So, Mark called yesterday and reminded me to come by. I also detected an in-between-the-lines message that his greenhouse was filling up.
Well, so is mine. So, I went out and did some rearranging before calling him back.
"I have room for maybe four tomato plants," I told him. He said he'd be home for most of the afternoon, so I promised to stop by.
Mark moved here a few years ago from California where he owned a ski shop in Sacramento. Since then, he's been helping out at the Alpine Shop and running a lawn-grooming business.
We've also watched his greenhouse take shape over the past couple of years; he lives next door to my sisters'. And, over the past couple of years, he's been very generous, bringing his garden goodies to them.
Well, I must say that when I walked away from his beautiful greenhouse, assembled with many items from various venues and friends---including a wood stove that puts out toasty heat and a wonderful 360-degree view---I felt on top of the earth.
Mark and I and hosts of other folks share that same passion for working in the dirt and watching things grow. He's much more organized than I, and it will be a cold day in North Idaho (or should I say hot?) before I ever invite him to see my helter-skelter greenhouse.
It's one of those that fits the saying: it ain't purty but it gets the job done.
I thoroughly enjoyed listening to his stories of his mother's influence as a gardener and how he always wanted to take it up, but never had the space until he moved up here.
He told me how his son has joined the garden club at Kootenai School and has developed an interest in putting his own seeds in the dirt and watching them sprout. There's a chart hanging on the wall, detailing the progress of each seed packet.
Mark also pointed to items around the greenhouse, telling me about doors that came from the Colburn dumpsite, windows given to him by friends, framework that came from Wal-Mart's remodel, etc.
He demonstrated me how he uses a small gas funnel to pour his potting soil into the containers, then turns it over and uses the small end to poke holes in the soil for the seeds. I think I'll get a funnel.
He picks up "For Sale" signs, slices them into little rectangles and uses them for labeling the pots.
And, while we visited, he picked out more than four tomatoes to send home with me. I almost jumped up and down when he handed over six raspberry starts in pots.
When we moved here to the Lovestead, I brought along several raspberry bushes given to me several years ago by Bob Nesbitt.
Unfortunately, the first winter here, they all died. Since then, the Meserves have given me starts as have the Dolsby's. So, my raspberry patches are in various stages of development and somewhat limited.
To plant six new starts yesterday felt every bit as exciting as opening Christmas presents. My box also contained a couple of strawberries, a lemon cuke, some broccoli, and a romain lettuce start, along with those tomatoes.
The best part of the day, however, was visiting with a kindred soul who loves dabbling in the earth and just can't quite explain why
I think the motives are a pretty universal challenge for gardeners to express. The reasons are often inexplicable, and the inner feelings and satisfaction that go along with daily gardening are indescribable----but almost always good.
Can't wait to bite into a lemon cucumber this summer!
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