Rain

    I lied to you. I don't have a diagram. I can't for the life of me figure out how to get this sketch program to make pretty pictures of things and so it's going to have to wait until I can achieve the proper drunkenness to figure out how to make technology work. In the mean time I promise, there are rows and vines and trenches, TRENCHES! I know. Growing potatoes apparently involves digging a trench, I'm skeptical. I figured most of the garden already thinks I'm insane, so having a trench makes perfect sense in the grand scheme of thinks and at least if Queens ever decides to invade I'll either have potatoes or a place to hide, potentially both!


It's been thundering and raining on and off all day, which is of course what happens the day after I spend an hour and a half going back and forth to the spigot with a pilfered bottle of Dasani water, watering each and every plant. Now of course it would make more sense to use one of the three hoses laying around the garden, and normally I'd admit that sometimes I like to do things the difficult way, because I'm stubborn and my father's son, but no, each hose had its own special way of getting me dirty and wet. Before I tell you about the hoses let me preface this by saying for some reason although the city can't pressure the water enough to get a decent shower, they do a great job at making sure the Community Garden has water powerful enough to power wash paint off metal.

 The first hose I tried had rotted and decayed at the nozzle end so that the only way to prevent it from spraying out the side and soaking me, was to hold my hand over one end, while also keeping the nozzle sprayer held open with my other hand. If I didn't do both, I got sprayed from crotch to neck, so after turning on and off the water it looked like I quite enthusiastically pissed myself. The second hose, which I had to drag from the other side of the garden and untangle from a random fence had it's own delights in store for me. For some reason it had a splitter attached to the end and I couldn't figure out how to remove it without actually removing the end of the hose but I assumed I could just close off one side and screw on the nozzle to the other. That is of course how it would work with a hose that hadn't sat out all winter, instead there was literally no "closed" position for the splitter, so the only way I could use this hose involved holding one hand over the end of the "closed" end, which more kept the water from spraying in my face than stopped it from coming out of the hose. It also meant that where once I stood on solid dry ground, I now stood, in wet shoes, in a mud hole. The third hose I don't want to talk about. I should have taken the fact that it was tied up with a piece of fabric (who ties up a hose with a shirt sleeve?!) as a sign that I should've left it where it was, but instead while it worked perfectly fine, I'm pretty sure it's previous life involved pumping crude oil because I ended up covered in grease.

   So yeah, having left the garden day two looking like I pissed myself, rolled around in the mud and then changed the oil in my car, using a bottle on day 3 made a lot more sense, I promise. Thank god the forecast calls for more rain. We won't talk about how I might've asked my Dad if I should cover the rows of seeds with a towel to protect them from the pouring rain. I think moving forward, we should just accept that fact that instead of 28 cats I have plants and sometimes I worry.