The Accidental Olympian

IT'S OFFICIAL. I HAVE A GARDEN. WITH THINGS THAT ACTUALLY GROW. EVEN SOME THINGS THAT I EAT. IT'S SORT OF LIKE ROCKET SCIENCE. BUT WITH PLANTS.

People, this gardening thing has totally and completely hooked me.

Yes, I'll admit that sometimes it is a little irritating to work 8 hours, run errands, go to the gym, walk the dog, make dinner, clean up and THEN still need to water the jungle that is taking over my backyard, but once I'm out there I can't stop myself from cooing at my baby tomatoes, or smelling the basil, or protecting my cauliflower from the evil little worms that eat their leaves, and before I know it I'm laying between the isles rolling in the dirt screaming, "I LOVE MY GARDEN."

I think my nightly watering is beginning to scare Adam.

Here is the garden as you approach it for the nightly watering ritual. Last weekend while I was in Seattle Adam was a DOLL and slaved for like 25 million years hauling rocks to finally fill in the border around the garden fence, instantly turning our garden from 'nice' to 'seasoned professional'.

Man I love that kid.

No joke, this shot was taken at eye level to my sunflowers. I'm thinking this means the one in the back is nearly 6 feet tall. Even more terrifying is that these guys haven't even flowered yet, meaning we're looking at another 2 feet at LEAST.

Here's the garden as a whole. Teaming with veggies, some we've already been able to sample. Making dinner has become my new favorite past-time. Coming into the garden, breaking off a few leaves of lettuce, maybe grabbing some shallots, snip off some basil or oregano, and then casually walking back inside to start my dinner has been absolutely inspiring.

Suddenly I'm filled with all sorts of ideas for next summer.

If Adam isn't careful I'm going to simply start digging holes in the middle of the lawn and plopping down pumpkin seedlings. 

I mean, the lawn has the best sunlight after my garden patch. So it's only logical that I move into the lawn for additional planting next year. This little garden is cramped enough as it is.

And really, what is a little 1 ft hole going to do against all that lawn? Plus, maybe it will give the lawn character.

I told him when we started this garden that I needed more square footage. 

Men never listen.

For a while I was worried that my tomatoes weren't going to produce fruit. We had a week of 90+ weather and the more I read, the more the super gardeners told me that the heat was the reason my little tomato flowers were shriveling up and dying without producing any fruit.

SO, being totally reasonable I ran to the garden store instead of consulting the internet for a quick fix.

And even though the guy who worked there told me that the 5 dollar bottle of blossom booster had done NOTHING for his garden last year, I bought it anyway. Because damn it I needed to feel proactive.

So every night I went out there, and I sprayed my organic compound which was probably fucking five dollar sugar water, and I waited. And moaned at the idea of going all summer with ZERO tomatoes.

And then I saw this.

Pretty sure I screamed when I spotted this.

And Adam thought I'd found a snake.

But no. Just a baby tomato.

Take THAT garden supply guy. 

OK, I mean the baby tomatoes are probably a result of the decrease in hot weather, but I like the idea that me, in all my infinite garden wisdom, with my plant shaking, and my spraying of sugar water ACTUALLY helped turn a fruitless plant into a super producer.

What can I say?

I think highly of myself. 

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

FORGIVENESS

Last Sunday morning I found myself seated across the breakfast table from one of my favorite people. As we chatted the topic of the last four to five weeks of her employment struggle came up. When you are unemployed at times it feels physically impossible to go a whole day without speaking of your plight. Today's economy forces you to carry your unemployment around like a scarlet letter. Try as you might to tuck it away, it feels as if it is always visible. 

Listening to her talk about her fears, or the way that she's beginning to find it hard to stave off the embarrassment, guilt, and shame of being unable to find work ate at me. I was looking into the eyes of a person who is terrified of the future, shocked at her situation and baffled at the utter lack of control that consumes her daily life.

I know that look.

As I sat across from her I tried to give her the things no one was able to give me.

Understanding.

I tried to tell her all the things that ring true about being in your mid 20's with all the education and experience in the world, lost in this economic shit storm.

Don't be ashamed to accept help. You deserve to let those who love you step in when you need it.

This isn't your fault.

Deal with your debt later. It is ok to be in survival mode now. Don't be ashamed to use credit to buy groceries if that's all you have. Survival truly is key.

It is ok to take something that feels beneath you to ensure that you have an income. No matter what society has told us, our job does not define who we are as a person.

This isn't your fault.

You are a talented, smart, well educated, hard working woman, anyone would be happy to employ you. They just can't see you right now through all the candidates. But trust me you still shine.

You'll make it.

Even if the job you find feels terribly lacking, eventually you will find something better, make it into something better, or improve your situation ten fold.

Stay strong. You are doing EVERYTHING right even when it feels like you're doing everything wrong.

This isn't your fault. 




As I drove home from my lovely weekend in Seattle, our conversation at the table continued to run through my mind.

Suddenly I began to cry.

Hot, salty tears streamed down my cheeks and my chest heaved over and over and I was powerless to control the emotions surging through me.

The words I had told my friend, the reassurance, the positive outlook, the loving encouragement and reminders of her self worth were all things I have never once given myself.

Through my unemployment battle and subsequent year of employment striving to turn my position into the role it is today, I never once stepped in and told myself the hardships hadn't been my fault. I never let myself off the hook, told that scared girl inside that it would be ok, reminded myself that I truly was doing all I could, I never once pointed out to myself that I was actually making the best out of a horrible situation, and I never let myself accept the idea that I was doing everything I humanly could to survive. 

The very words of encouragement and love that poured so easily out of my mouth for another had been impossible for me to give myself.



As the tears began to subside and my breathing returned to normal it felt as if I had given myself the most loving embrace. The weight of the last year and a half seemed to finally be lifted, and instead of feeling disgrace for the way I believed my future to have been drastically shifted beyond my control, for the first time in ages I was proud of myself.

Damn fucking proud. 

Finally after all this time I told myself it was ok, that I loved myself, and that what I went through was horrible and demoralizing, but I'd done it.

To anyone today who is struggling to find work, who lays in bed at night wondering where they went wrong, to the person who feels like a failure for resorting to the lesser job when it was all they could find, to the individual who feels like the only one they know on a drastically tight budget, to the graduate who feels like their future is the bleakest sight imaginable, you can do this. You will do this.

I believe in you.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

CHILD'S PLAY

The instructions clearly read, "Not for large children or adults."

Thankfully we have problems following the rules.

This has been the best weekend, ever.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

OBSESSED WITH MOUNTAIN MEN

You totally thought this post was going to be about me being obsessed with actual men who live in the mountains and are all grungy and shit huh?

Nope. If that was the case Adam wouldn't stand a chance seeing as he can't grow anything besides this skinny mustache thing that makes him look slightly Mexican.

No, what I REALLY like is this song.

Called "Mountain Man." 

You get it now?

Loving this song might expose my seriously lameness if this song is like so 5 minutes ago.

I mean for all I know, the general consensus between those who 'know' music is that this song is seriously lame.

BUT I DON'T CARE.

I've never been hip.

No need to start trying now. 

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

THE OLD LADIES IN MY HOUSING DEVELOPMENT ARE TOTALLY FUCKING WITH ME

I live in a housing development where all the houses look the same, AND OH WOW the theme song for Weeds totally just came into my head as I was typing that first line and now all I can think about is Andy Botwin and how I want to marry him.

Sidetracked much?

ANYWAY, so yes, I live in some cookie cutter land of sameness and dull, and one of the things about this development is we pay monthly HOA dues to keep all our front lawns and bushes even and perfect. God forbid someone's personality shines through.

You are however allowed to plant things in your front yard in this weird little strip of dirt near your front door IF you swear on your life that you wont let it get all messy and unkempt, and I'm pretty sure the blue haired HOA committee members walk around at night with a little clipboard to make sure everyone is keeping their pansies in line.

We've lived in our house since March 2009 and besides some flowers in two pots lining our garage door, I just didn't have the funds to spice it up much more than that.

Every morning I'd walk past my space of dirt and sigh. Because OMG HOW BORING.

Then fast forward a bunch of time. Suddenly my pockets were a tad fuller and I found myself with a few extra pennies to put towards things that make me happy, like flowers and wine. So I got a hair up my ass and bought myself this gorgeous pot of hydrangeas. They were blue, and as I planted them I imagined them next summer as this huge bush of amazingness and lovely. These flowers would greet me when I would come and go from my house, I would be able to cut these amazing blooms and place them in a vase on my kitchen counter, and these flowers single handedly inspired all sorts of suburban Pottery Barn-esk porn to swirl around in my brain.

This is what a healthy, thriving hydrangea plant looks like for those who aren't aware.



Pretty huh?

The day after planting my new little miracle plant of lovely I was on the phone with my mother telling her what a deal the bush was, how pretty it was, how happy I was to finally be in a place where I could do something so simple as plant a bush without breaking the bank and then, then I just stopped. 




The gardeners, or a rogue neighbor maybe, planted, WITHOUT ASKING, another bush right in front of the bush I'd just planned.

What. The. Fuck.

I didn't ask for another bush.

In fact I had JUST filled out a stupid form claiming that I was competent enough to weed my own patch of dirt and further stating that I'd like the gardeners to stay the fuck out of my dirt patch so I might plant things EXACTLY like this hydrangea bush. 

I mean, I've lived here nearly a year and a half. Where was this magical free bush planting service LAST SUMMER WHEN I WAS BROKE?

Why did they plant it in FRONT of the bush I just planted?

And while we're at it, who the fuck actually planted this bush? Neighbor? Gardener? Spiteful HOA lady?

What the hell kind of coincidence is it that they would plant this the DAY after I just planted a bush I purchased with my own damn money?

I mean I know I'm harping on the same concept over and over a bit, but, HELLO! I just filled out the 'I'll garden my own front yard thank you very much' form two weeks ago! Yet here was someone obviously doing my gardening for me.

And oh look, their new, free, magical, refused to arrive last summer when I was too poor to do my own gardening, bush blocked out all the light and KILLED the bush I actually paid for.

I know that's the worst picture EVER but I was enraged. Enraged people have no time to think about composition.

Someone is fucking with me and I'm not sure how to get them back.

At this point I'm thinking the only thing I can do is randomly plant bushes in the front yards of the HOA committee member's houses in the middle of the night and see how they like it.

Who's coming with me?

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian