Garlic
It’s October, which is garlic planting time in our hardiness zone. I wish I could say that I already knew when garlic planting time is, that there was some sort of calendar or organizational system that I rely on, or even better, that I was so in tune with my garden that I could feel when it was time to plant. In reality, some garlic appeared in the mail yesterday along with a guide on how and when to plant it. I don’t remember ordering it last spring but the seed company, knowing better than me, didn’t send it until it was actually ready to be planted.
It’s winter garlic, so it gets buried now and then, like many bulbs, puts its shoots up in early spring. Each year I garden, I’ve enjoyed doing bulbs more and more. Spring feels so intense around here - the weather is still fairly miserable, kids’ sports and school is way too intense, and there are so many other gardening tasks to do. So, it’s nice to look over at a pre-planted raised bed and think, “Thank you, Fall Serenity. Nothing left to do there.”
The other nice thing about garlic is that a little goes a long way. I planted about 30-40 cloves yesterday. It took maybe 15 minutes. I’m sure some won’t germinate and some will get nibbled or dug up before they get very big. But even if we get 25 heads, that’s our garlic needs sorted for most of the year. And unlike zucchini, basil or tomatoes, garlic needs very little processing. Dig it up, dust it off, tie it in a bunch, and voila! You’re basically a homesteader already.
I often get caught up in tasks that seem really easy but aren’t. I’m usually halfway through before I realize how deceptive my initial impressions were. How often have I thought something like, “How hard can it be to put together this IKEA chair?” only to get mired in a 27-step process using 50 different screws and a single allen wrench? But sometimes, more times than I deserve, things are simple. Like planting garlic. And crockpot soups. And the occasional blog post where I pour out a beautiful, cohesively written essay before my tea even cools.
This is not that blog post. I started it about two hours ago, and about ten minutes in, I was interrupted. And then I got distracted and decided to make some lunch, chat with Forrest, do some light housecleaning, and welp, here we are. I’m learning not to make judgements about things like simplicity, or distractions, or even needlessly complicated bureaucratic processes. Tasks take the time they take. Any frustration or expectations I add onto that simply make my experience worse. Most days I fail to go with the flow, but I’m trying to be zen about it all anyway.
It’s really, really nice, then, when the garlic gets planted and there’s still time to read an extra chapter before duty calls once again.
