Fall is here

Fall is here in western Washington. It arrived in all its glory today after summer's last blazing parting shot of the last few days. It was raining this morning (finally!) and the clouds were fabulous- grey, swirling, and very moody!

In a wonderful coincidence, I also had the day off. I spent a few hours outside doing some fall cleanup- not my perennials, but a lot of spent annuals and way too many failing squash and cucumbers with powdery mildew. I also retired one of my Amish Paste tomato plants to the compost bin, since it was looking really sad and had only a few tomatoes left. I kept those, of course, and will let them ripen on my counter. I keep them under the cabinet, pushed back against the wall where it stays darker. I put the hoop house over the tomatoes in bed 4. I checked on my late carrots, parsnips, and arugula, all of which I started under row cover about a month ago. They all seem quite content. And I was so happy, because I harvested more eggplants from my Nadia variety plants. This was the third year I tried to grow eggplant, so I suppose third time is the charm.

Fall garden tasks always make me reflect on how this kind of clearing away is important in any garden... and in life. So much of my fall work is saving what can be saved with season extenders, salvaging what I can from what is dying, and preparing the ground for next spring. I'm in good company, as all the little creatures in my garden are also starting to think about winter. The nuthatches found my gift of sunflowers on the back porch and have almost finished munching all the good seed from the spent heads. I gave them the seeds from the smaller varieties, and kept the seeds from my Maximillion variety plants in two big jars for next spring's planting. They spent about 8 hours in the dehydrator before being put away. If all that seed is viable, I better find some friends with which to share!

This kind of work is valuable as we creatively manage our lives, too. As we grow and change, it's important to let go of what is no longer serving or bringing us delight. Removing what is spent and broken and hurt, and preparing that space for new adventures, discoveries, and hobbies is very healing and much needed. Many of us cruise along on auto-pilot and then wake up to realize our lives no longer reflect who we are and what our priorities are. When this happens, it's time to let go.  Save the wonderful memories, and the lessons we learned.  Those gifts of experience and knowledge will grow in our next chapter. Moving on can be hard, but it's always the right decision when something has become a burden and gets in the way of our true love and delight. We only get one this one life... it's too short for things that hurt us. 

What fall garden tasks are you working on? Be sure to let me know where you're gardening! 

Welcome to Five Cats Farm!

Thank you for being here. What will you find? At Five Cats Farm you’ll discover gardening on a suburban lot, recipes, preserving, flower arranging, artful living, cat antics, sewing, home-making, simplicity, and creative inspiration for your own projects. Grab a cup of tea and join me. I'm so glad you stopped by!

MY STORY

I live on a typical suburban lot in western Washington with my husband and five cats. I work full time as a licensed veterinary technician at a very busy family practice and I run our household. Still, I carve out time for gardening and art. What I’m not able to raise on our (admittedly tiny!) land, we try to buy local and fresh from farmers.  We have a dream of moving to a small farm, one day. In the meantime, I’m not going to let these years go by without working toward my goals of greater self-sufficiency. Every jar of tomatoes I put up, every potato I dig, every handful of spinach or blueberries or flowers I bring in from the garden, is a small part of that larger vision of THIS LIFE I AM CREATING. 

Having a deep understanding and connection to where our food comes from is very important to me. Maintaining a strong connection to the Earth and doing my part to walk gently upon this planet is not something I can wait for. I need it now. I feel most alive when plunging my hands into the rich soil, talking to my plants, and watching life grow and change in my garden.

In 2016, I retired from a deeply rewarding and yet terribly consuming career as a dance performer and teacher.  (Yup, I was still working as a veterinary technician then, too. Most dancers have other jobs to help ends meet.) I knew that giving up my vital presence in my artform was going to create a huge void in my life. I thought ahead and spent a lot of time doing very deep soul-searching to try to prepare for that eventuality. I knew I needed art in my life. I also knew that certain aspects of my lifestyle had been in active conflict with the things I felt were most important to me. Most importantly: time with my family, self-care, and actively nurturing my spiritual life. I wanted to replace dance with something gentler on my body, less stressful, that could be practiced in solitude, relatively cheap, could include my husband, and most importantly… that made me feel close to the Creator. I’m so happy I chose gardening. It’s made me a better person in many ways. And it’s helped bridge the chasm in my life when I left dance.

Gardening is incredibly artsy. Planning gardens, choosing plant combinations, noticing each plant’s individual habits and contributions, arranging flowers and making meals… all of this fills my cup and sparks creativity. It’s also a wonderful hobby because I can also choose to just experience what I’ve made, anytime. I don’t need an audience, music, or a 2-hour warm-up to get loose(!), before I can dive in. I just open my back door and sit down on the back porch. I look around, and I breathe slowly. The healing energy of my garden is available to me whenever I slow down long enough to receive it. 

 How does your garden bring YOU joy? Let me know in the comments!