We Come from Farmers

Up until the 1920’s, both sides of my family – mother and father – were made up of farmers. Especially on my mother’s side; they had been farmers in North America since about 1660 up in Canada. My dad’s side had pretty much been substance farmers since Rome tried to cross the Rhine, but on the whole, substance farmers from Northern Illinois. Point being; farming is what my family did until they started working in factories, and then all became middle class.

So, for a century now, people in my family have been removed from working the land. And honestly, it shows, as there really isn’t anybody in my family who can grow anything. Our luck at growing plants, gardens, or shrubberies is quite awful. We can’t make anything green grow, unless we pay someone to help us.

Several times in the City, the wife and I have tried our hand at growing something in a flowerbox or planter on our fire escape. And sadly, nothing has lived. We did get some seeds from a lemon as part of a class project for the kid, and we managed to grow into a small lemon tree. But the lack of green thumb kicked in, and the lemon tree died last fall.

And did I mention that we are also very lazy people…

See, we left the lemon tree pot on the fire escape all Fall, Winter, and this Spring. We meant to get rid of it, but it functioned as a sort of plant cemetery; reminding us of our loss, and warning us if we ever got ambitious enough again.

And then something started growing out of that pot. First we thought that the lemon tree had sprung back to life. Not sure if that is even a thing, but we thought it for a while. Then the sprouting plant began to take on the form of a recognizable weed. Not weed, but a weed – Prickly Lettuce. The thing is about a foot and a half tall, and we haven’t touched it. We are just letting it do its thing.

I am aware that it is a weed, and I am also aware that if I touch this plant, it will be the beginning of its end. But we have something growing in a pot that is meant to grow things… so… we’re going to let this thing go, and see what happens. This will be our Summer Growing Project.