It snowed a lot on Tuesday night (January 17th, 2012), and my excitement was remarkable—though I know not why—except to say that up until just last month I would not have been able to stay outside in such cold temperatures for that long. So maybe I do know the reason why, but it is such a personal reason, having more to do with my illness, that I feel I must explain.
As I write this, the movie Awakenings (1990) is playing on the television. Based on the British neurologist Oliver Sacks’s memoir Awakenings (1973) it’s a movie about a group of patients who awaken from their catatonic states after being given an experimental treatment in 1969, and over time, the drug that they’re given stops being effective, and they return to their catatonia.
The mother of one of the patients describes never having asked, when her son was born, “Why? Why was my son born healthy?” But after his illness sets in later, she remarks to the doctors that she hasn’t stopped asking, “Why? Why is my son unhealthy? Why?” Then she must watch as her son slowly returns to being catatonic again, unable to communicate at all, after having had him back so briefly.
Chronic illness follows this cycle, and it is for this reason that I garden and grow seeds, finding in their annual return and growth the false confidence that I need, and an additional natural comfort when I need it. Gardening keeps me far away from the Why? questions, and instead, the activity leaves me suspended in a healthy state of awe and speechlessness.
For the last few weeks I’ve felt alive again, and I’ve been afraid to note that here on my blog.
One of the reasons why is that I am afraid it won’t last for very long. I have lived with many chemical windows both opening and closing much like the patients in the film, though not nearly so dramatically, and I live with the ongoing dread that I will run out of options. For the last few weeks I have been doing much better than I have in about 5 years and it scares me. I must admit too that I have been living, and that means I’ve not been here so much, and that I’ve been having fun and I’ve been enjoying the winter and time spent with my husband.
Taking pictures of the snow at 11pm was just the kind of activity I needed. It filled me with a funny kind of joy and I looked around at the dark homes of our neighbors and wondered why they weren’t out there too—just as excited as I was at that hour—and I realized then that my mood had more to do with my most recent “awakening”than anything else. These are often the joyful moments we spend by ourselves and that’s alright I suppose, I just hope that all of you remember to have them too.
So yesterday the snow melted, and while keeping warm, I finally began my last seed sorting session for the 2011 harvest. Maurice the cat felt like helping too so I let him spend some time with me on the floor while I sorted all of the paper bags and poured the seeds out onto paper plates.
All of the seeds are now out in the open and I am so happy that I am able to capture them all in one shot. This is only 1/8th or less of what I collected last year so this really is a big deal for me to be so near the end.
Some of these are from the wild and some are from gardens. How I figured them all out, when some had no plant ID at all, is still a mystery to me. If they’re without a name I have no one to blame but myself.
I just cannot believe that the process is beginning again, since I feel as though I’ve just woken up a bit myself, and although I am a bit terrified that this new medication may fail me, the garden must grow on and so must I.
|False Yucca Seeds, Hesperaloe parviflora.|
Usually on Friday nights kids don’t want to watch me sitting at the table sifting through seeds. Our kids are usually fairly emotional and like to have us right there with them, watching a program with them, or participating in their play.
|Cardinal Flower Seeds, Lobelia cardinalis.|
Last weekend I was left alone in the evening. It felt kind of odd and a twinge of guilt crept up, but then I squashed it because I liked being able to work quietly after dinner without any major interruptions.
|False Freesia, Anomatheca laxa.|
I was sorting and sorting and didn’t notice when the room became silent.
|My little helper hiding behind the lamp to preserve his anonymity.|
Then I felt his eyes on me and he drew nearer. There were a few questions about how to do it, and why I do it, and then he sat his toys down. He was mesmerized by the process and before I knew it he was sitting beside me sorting too.
And that was Friday night! Ahhhhh…..
|Elms in the Park Blocks of Portland, Oregon.|
Due to his anxiety issues, running errands for my upcoming trip required some planning, but all that really meant was that he needed park breaks in the city so that he could forget about all the people. Near Powell’s he as able to run around in this playground in the park blocks. I admired the elm trees while he let it all out.
|Licorice Ferns, Polypodium glycyrrhiza.|
Before we left to go to the store I showed him how the epiphytic Licorice Fern grows on trees whenever possible in our area. He stood there on the sidewalk staring up at that tree for much longer than I’d expected.
|This lily at a flower stall captivated my little weekend visitor.|
At the market in NW Portland we stopped to buy flowers for my daily Ikebana.
|Pumpkin Stick Tree, Solanum integrifolium.|
I let him pick what he wanted for a Halloween theme and we talked about the flowers he really liked.
|Monkshood, possibly Aconitum carmichaelii.|
This was the first Monkshood he’d ever seen and he couldn’t stop looking at it. He wanted to call it a Hoodie Flower and that made me laugh.
Once we were back home he posed with our purchases and then we started working on Halloween cookies. Until he left on Monday he continued to sort seeds with me and he asked me many questions. He opened up a lot during this time and when he left it was hard for me to say goodbye. Part of me felt ashamed though to have been so biased in my feelings for him just because he loved seeds but I totally fell for him.
I am currently still sorting outdoor plants before I take off for my next plant and seed hunting trip in California.
I wanted to post that I have many winners and losers and these are examples of each. Both are hard to find plants, but only one made it. The Dicentra would have made it if I hadn’t neglected it, but so it goes…
Last week I was honored to be included in a post over at danger garden entitled “The other kind of gardener…” because it was about we seed collectors. I only know a handful of others like me but I know there are more of us out there somewhere because somebody keeps buying my seeds, and additionally, I keep trading with them too. Funny we are kind of a quiet contingent. I have no idea what any of these people even look like—other than my gardening buddy down the street.
What’s even more entertaining is that Loree’s blog entry actually gave me a break from my seed sorting activities. The irony was made even better by her title. She had no idea the concept of the Other was my theoretical speciality back when I was working with art history during my old academic days. Seeing myself as the other gardener brought me so much pleasure I cannot tell you how much I laughed about it all weekend.
Thank you Loree for helping me to see the light at the end of my seed packet.
|These are the origami envelopes I make for the seeds I sell. For the seeds I keep I simply put them in glassine bags inside of coin envelopes. For larger seeds, I often use vintage glass canning jars.|