Anticipation

Planting tender garden flora in the springtime is always a game of Russian Roulette in the upper plains. Our finicky temperatures can be down right hot for a spell, luring us into an early planting session. Days later, the weatherman starts squawking about freezing temperatures during the evening hours. The seed babies under the ground usually fare quite well as long as they haven't poked their heads above the soil level. The seedlings, however, need temperate conditions to get their little bodies acclimated to their new environment. 

My husband is a master gardener and I give no advice other than suggestions for the vegetables I want to work with for the upcoming season. He has a favorite greenhouse that is about a forty minute drive from our house. I usually do not go with him because my ability to focus on all that greenery is rather short-lived. This year I decided to accompany him in desperation for an outing. After a year of isolation, it is time to take baby steps back into reality. The drive to the greenhouse is through the countryside so the scenery is always pleasant. 

My plan at the greenhouse is straightforward. Follow my husband around just long enough to look interested. Upon reaching the herbs I make a few suggestions as I check out the different types available and enjoy sniffing their different fragrances. After that burst of interest, I usually notice my husband getting lost in what I call his "garden zen". He has his nose buried in the plants, carefully selecting just the right seedlings for a hardy start to our garden. Soon enough, it is time for my exit and I head to our vehicle where I am prepared for an hour or two of waiting. It was a beautiful day so I rolled down my windows to take advantage of a comfortable breeze. I was prepared with plenty of reading material, a bottle of water and a few snacks. 

There is also a fair amount of people watching for entertainment as well. My favorite was the older gentleman who was stationed by the entrance of the greenhouse. His job was to make sure the plant carts were ready for the shoppers. This job seemed to be perfect for him. Nothing too physical but plenty of human interaction. I heard him say he was 89 years old and I found myself hoping I might be fortunate enough to have my wits about me at that age. My guess is that his job was flexible enough for him to come and go as he wished. Not a bad gig.

One characteristic all the shoppers seemed to share was a general sense of joy and anticipation. I do not always witness this in other retail settings. I may personally experience some joy as I put a bag of Cheetos in my grocery cart, but as a general rule, my shopping is often a git-'er-done experience. It was refreshing to see so many folks excited about their purchases. 

The amazing element in the whole greenhouse process is the risk factor. If I buy a can of beans, I have a high likelihood of enjoying them with a meal at some point. A bean plant, however, is facing a number of challenges before ever producing a single bean. Hail, drought, soil, insects, fungus, rabbits and birds are just a few characters in the on-going drama of gardening. But, any gardener or, in my case, harvester can tell you that the final show is work the risk. I am already salivating over the first plate of fresh beans and sliced red tomatoes. 

Happy gardening!

 

Things that Suck

My vacuum cleaner died last week. This should not be newsworthy but it was the first vacuum I have ever liked. And it was less than a year old. It was also from a well-respected company in the world of vacuum choices.  Let me be clear. I hate to vacuum. I have said many times that if I die and wake up in a room with a vacuum cleaner and a dust rag, I know where I went for the after life. I have used many vacuum cleaners over the course of my cleaning life. Shop Vacs, Kirbies, Hoovers, Eurekas, Dustbusters, Orecks, and Bissells to name a few. There were canisters, uprights, handhelds, bagless and bags for styles. All of them had their issues and a few had glimmers of hope. 

One of the worst vacuums I used was at a great-aunt's house when I was a teenager. She had hired me to help her clean her house due to a health issue. I didn't have the heart to tell her she should probably spend her money on someone who knew what they were doing. She patiently showed me how to operate her Rainbow canister vacuum, circa 1970. It was supposed to be state-of-the-art, cutting edge technology. Yipes, what a horrendous beast. The canister pan at the base had to be filled with water and great care was needed while one moved around the room with the sloshing pan. Once the canister's water was sufficiently full of collected debris, the sludge water had to be disposed of and the process began again. Poke my eyes out, it was a good thing that cleaning gig was short-lived. 

Another vacuum nemesis was a cast-off machine we received from a family member. The vacuum should have come with a disclaimer: Do not use if you are unable to lift fifty pounds of dead weight. It was an unwieldy monster and it made the job of cleaning even more distasteful. At the time, this brand of vacuum was considered a premier cleaning device but I was less than impressed with its capabilities, not to mention the back ache caused by lugging it around. Needless to say, we never purchased one of our own and sold the clunker at a garage sale, deeply discounted.  

One little picker-upper that I found manageable for small jobs was the ubiquitous little Hokey carpet sweeper, no cords or charging needed. It isn't meant for major cleaning jobs but it does the trick when cleaning up after church potlucks and Sunday School craft projects. I am always fascinated with its ease and efficacy. And the price is right. 

In some weird way, I can also appreciate a Shop Vac. It can take whatever is thrown its way. Messy construction job sites, no problem. Long overdue car cleanup, bring it on. Basement flooding, job is done. Its durability is spot on and its ability to juxtaposition water and electricity is a modern marvel. We will always have one (or two) at the ready in our garage.

Finally, back to the vacuum that just died. Due to its young age and the fact that I actually registered the vacuum on the company's website at the time of its purchase, I thought it would be a slam dunk for a quick follow up. Without naming names, it is to-date the worst customer service I have received. I have yet to speak with a human being and the e-mail response I received said they would not be able to handle my request at this time "due to high customer volume." A series of "troubleshooting texts" was less than helpful and the end result may or may not be a new part. It is difficult to resist the obvious. Their vacuum isn't sucking but their customer service is another story. 

Time to buy a Hokey. No batteries, cords or heavy lifting needed. 

One of several inherited vacuums,
also headed to the next garage sale.