I am trying to be an organic gardener. It's partly an ethical good for the earth thing but there is this streak in me from the 1960's Whole Earth Catalog that says everyone should have basic survival skills that don't hurt the earth but allow us to thrive. With that philosophy in mind I took a glass on edible plants so I could forage safely.
I learned how to start a fire for warmth; I made sure I could preserve my own food - although I don't that much- and I learned not to use pesticides and chemicals in my garden. I confess to using some pellets that make the earth more alkaline under my many camellias and rhododendrons. and I add something to the composter that speeds up the process of making dirt.
But I weed by hand. It's a comforting and soothing activity. I put on one of three pair of gardening trousers, knees pads, washable gardening clogs, long socks, rubber covered garden gloves and a broad brimmed straw hat with a chin strap so it doesn't fall off as I climb around in the under story of the yard which is becoming a naturalists dream. . I have my hand tools in a gardening bucket filled with nooks and pockets- I keep it right inside the door near the boot trays and cat leashes... and go out and pick at each clump of grass, dandelion or chickweed that I can find. It's funny about weeds because some of them I cultivate: the wood violets and the storks bill alone because while they are weeds to others I love them and they fill in the spaces so well and have such wonderful flowers. and occasionally a tree blows in- that's how we got two of the vine maples along the studio's southern wall. sometime it's worth it to let a plant alone for a season as it might do something interesting and you'll like it.
It's the same thing that makes me mend clothing with interesting and perfectly placed little patches and it's a small way of making the universe right when things go awry. And heaven knows that happens a lot.
