Down and Dirty

Me (right) with a lot of weeds. Kathy (below) uprooting some vile plant.

Kneeling in the hot sun, covered in dirt, my coworker Kathy Blake and I pulled and yanked ferocious weeds from the DTE Energy Community Garden in Pontiac. The mercury had risen above eighty degrees, but thankfully, clouds provided a bit of shelter for the two hours we played in the soil.

When I first arrived, I parked behind the Gleaners building and saw a small, neat garden in what appeared to be an empty lot. I grabbed my hoe and backpack and walked over.

"Are you looking for the community garden?" asked a man who was hosing down his driveway.

"Yes."

Laughing, he said, "It's across the street. That's my garden."

I had wondered why the garden was so small. But as I directed my gaze to where the man pointed, I couldn't see the community garden. The reason, I found out, was that it resembled sod.

The garden had two rows of neatly planted tomatoes and onions. The rest was waiting for us to give it a good digging. A creepy, crawly vine-like grass covered most of the garden. Dandelions the size of oak trees had grown deep roots, roots that my meager spade could not dislodge. So, I dug out what I could, and like a man sweeping dirt under the rug, buried it underneath the soil.

There's something gratifying about gardening. It's purposeful and it's tiring.
Kathy and I talked about our lives and our work. Dare I say we bonded while we kneeled, clearing paths? It's cheesy, but yes. Our cleared row was not neat, but it was improved.

"It must be because of my astigmatism," Kathy concluded.

This was my favorite volunteering experience yet. I didn't have to talk with strangers after a hectic day. I didn't have to battle traffic. Instead, I did some honest work on a hazy Tuesday evening, knowing that our bit of effort will eventually help feed our community. Does it get any better than that?

To learn more about volunteering at a community garden, call Marc Zupmore at 313-235-3579.

And the rains came

The recent downpours made it impossible to work in the community garden yesterday, so it was rescheduled for next week. As project manager Marc Zupmore reminded me, we are at the mercy of Mother Nature.

This unfortunate news left me scrambling to find another volunteer opportunity for this week.

After scouring the Internet and making some calls, a coworker suggested the Hess-Hathaway Farm Park in Waterford Township.

There will be no sleeping in this Saturday or lounging around in PJs; instead, I will be taking care of animals and mucking stalls.

The last time I mucked stalls took place at a dairy farm my cousin worked on in Northern Michigan. The combined smell of ammonia and manure could knock a seasoned cowboy off his horse. It took a couple of hours for my sensitive schnoz to accustom, and I'm wondering what this weekend will bring.

But it's not just my nose I'm worried about. As I look down at my freshly painted red toenails, I can't help but sigh. What the heck do I wear to protect them? I was told rubber boots were good, but I don't own a pair. I guess I will have to don my beloved red sneaks that I wear for yard work.

Oh well, toes can be repainted, but how many opportunities will I get to do some real farm work in the metro Detroit area?

Till then, Cock a doodle doo!

Toil in the soil!

It's time to get my some dirt beneath my fingernails.

Tomorrow, I will volunteer for the DTE Energy Gardens Project in a community garden in Pontiac. The produce that is grown is sent to Gleaners, which provides food for local families in need. In 2009, almost eighteen-thousand pounds of produce was harvested, said Marc D Zupmore, DTE Energy Gardens project manager.

My need to feed others is a genetic trait I inherited from my larger-than-life extended family.

"Do you want a sandwich?" an uncle will ask, followed by an offer for some homemade soup, cake, ice tea, etc.

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? It will just take a minute. You're looking thin."

"Yep, I already ate."

And before I can come up with yet another reasonable excuse why I am not hungry, a plate of food is set before me.

Now, as an adult, I inflict this same force feeding tactic onto friends.

Many of us show love through food, and I am one of those people. And while the majority of Americans attempt to burn off unnecessary consumed calories — myself included — others can only stare at empty cupboards. What's worse, nutritional food doesn't last as long as processed fare, and tends to be pricier. Thus, those suffering from hunger don't always get a nutritional diet from the food they can afford.

The gardens are attempting to make good on both issues by providing fresh, healthy food to people in need. I can't wait to get outside and play in the soil!