The CBC News at Six sent over videographer Michael Dick this morning to shoot a segment on the rising trend in growing food gardens on roof tops for what I believe is tonight’s news. I guess I should have asked.
It was still cold and windy on the roof by noon but the sun has finally emerged and the temperatures have risen enough that I can work out there without a jacket.
Davin’s chalkboard drawing did the trick.
Click the image to see full-size.
This is what the roof looked like last Friday shortly after we had commenced project The Best and Most Ass Kicking the Roof Garden Has Ever Been, EVER 2008. High winds on the roof have made me a little fearful of getting up on a ladder to take and assemble the after photo. I think I will do it this weekend when spring decides to make its return — it’s been FREEZING here, especially on the roof where the winds are always much more intense.
For the record, it wasn’t technically this chaotic before we started but you know that old adage about how sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better… Chances are that the roof garden will go through that shift between chaos and organized a few times before the season has really even begun.
Here’s what it looked like in July 2007.
For the record this kind of flashy, neon pink is not at all my usual style. The shift began with last year’s gateway flower, the hot pink zinnia. The season hasn’t really started and I have already purchased more than one bright pink flower. What is going on?
Incidentally, I used to think tuberous begonias were passÃƒÂ© until I was informed that the flowers are juicy with a sour flavor, making them an interesting pass for lemons during the winter. Since then I have come around.
Spring is such a high-impact time in the garden that I figure this yoga series geared towards the aches and pains caused by repetitive physical activity in the garden just might be in order for a good many of us today.
Too bad they don’t have a corresponding pose for this morning’s back injury, hauling several heavy bags of container soil up three flights of stairs to the roof garden. The only cure for that is one of prevention. I.e. Getting someone else to do it. I will probably have to schedule some time tonight for a long soak in an herbal bath with a dash of Epsom salts. Followed by a nap. I know it’s Calgon that’s supposed to “take you away”, but sinking an orifice into that feels like soaking in a vat of Febreeeze-like substance.