I can't help them. About all any of us commoners can do is to lead
lives that others may find useful to follow. I wonder how many people
grow their own garlic.
From gloriamorris59 AT gmail.com Wed Sep 20 12:58:13 2006Return-Path: <gloriamorris59 AT gmail.com>
Journal entry 9/19/06: Gardening as Antidote to World Conditions.
Most mornings I read news via satellite. The Net positive is that one
has access to international happenings. The Net negative is that one
now confronts an endless deluge of information about man's inhumanity
to man. Ignorance, intolerance, meanness. Greed. The inability of
leaders to improve conditions. This morning I reached a breaking
point while reading the plight of India's farmers. Many have become
convinced to plant genetically modified Monsanto seeds. They have
fallen into the same trap that wrecked American farm families,
borrowing to make a crop and burdening unpredictable harvests with
interest payments. Crop failures increase indebtedness at high
interest from money lenders who take land deeds as collateral.
Farmers unable to pay lose their land. Poultry farmers are wiped out
due to avian flu. It is reported that in only six of 35 districts in
Maharashtra, India's third-largest state, nearly 1,900 farmers have
committed suicide since 2001. A common choice is drinking pesticide.
A farmer's last borrowing is money for his bottle of death.
A factor is crop prices. American farm subsidies are decried as
unfairly affecting the world market. Some point to inadequate Indian
bank policies. Whatever the various causes, I finally found myself
unable to continue. Enough. Too much. Shut it down.
Looking out at the trees of early autumn found no answer. Change the
focus. Do something positive. Following the view outside led to the
garden. The garlic bed beckoned. Dreams of future gustatory
delights--roast chicken and garlic pizza, poached salmon with pasta
and pesto, heavy on the pesto.
Last year I planted cloves from Baker Seeds, partly to be supportive
of their heirloom program and partly to see what flavors of exotic
varieties I had been missing. German Extra-Hardy and German Porcelain
are tasty but once mixed with other ingredients the uniqueness is
lost. This year I went back to supermarket bulbs.
Fluffed the soil, mixing it with what's left of mulch, last fall's
revenue of grass and leaves. Garlic likes fluffy soil. It also likes
rich soil. Sighed, cut down the Rose of Sharon that had sprouted in
front of the Taj Mahen people door. Unchickened for five years, the
floor has a thick layer of old droppings mixed with sawdust and
planer shavings. Tied a moist bandanna over my nose and filled a
bucket with the dusty stuff. Shook it onto the fluffed soil followed
by bone meal and some old seaweed extract. Raked all into the top
inch or so of soil.
The planting board is over twenty years old but still in good shape.
Punched in three rows of holes. Chris helped break the bulbs and poke
in the cloves. Garlic filament bounced about the garden in the light
breeze. Birds chattered. One hundred fifty-six cloves planted.
Covered with fine soil, used the back of the rake to smooth, then
tamp. Watered well, went back later in the day and watered again.
Made a note in the garden journal to feed in early spring with manure
tea or fish emulsion.
I feel better now. I am still sad about the plight of those poor
bastards in India trying to make a living off the land as their
families have done for generations but now beset with conditions
beyond their knowledge.
I can't help them. About all any of us commoners can do is to lead
lives that others may find useful to follow. I wonder how many people
grow their own garlic.
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