Better Late Than Never

This week has been really busy with school and work so I want to apologize for leaving you all hanging since the predator post. Luckily for all four of you followers out there my body is at war with the pollen swirling around NYC and I have been up since 4:00AM sneezing like a maniac. I seriously feel and look like the spawn of a zombie and a crackhead. The only way to quantify how cracked out this allergy season is making me feel is to compare myself to Taz.

If any readers out there recall visiting me up on 116th St and had the (un)fortunate experience of coming home past 1:00AM then you probably ran into who we affectionately nicknamed Taz. She is perpetually on the verge of shouting obscenities, asking you for money or lunging to take a bit of your arm. Anyway, I guess on this early Thursday morning the person I feel closest to is my old zombie neighbor, Taz (short for Tasmanian devil). Just me and Taz at 4:00AM, two kindred zombie spirits, coughing, sneezing and scratching our way to relief! No amount of blog-o-sphere nostalgia can reunite me with her (sigh).

But I digress (I think the Zyrtec is kicking in). Better late than never refers to the pictures I’ve been meaning to post of our garden in it’s infancy. About a month ago Dave, special guest Mad Mike and I took a trip to the Gowanus Nursery.

http://www.gowanusnursery.com/

They opened on the first day of spring and lucky for us it was a beautiful day. The women who run the place are extremely friendly and knowledgeable. They could tell we didn’t have the greenest thumbs and were really helpful. Since they advised not to plant anything before the last frost (April 10th-how they have it down to an exact day is beyond me) we kept the shopping simple. Anything they had outside as of that day was fair game to plant and would last throughout the season. We bought a huge bag of potting soil and three herbs: rosemary, lemon thyme and oregano. We have a large window box that fits the herbs perfectly. We also bought tiny seeds to plant around the herbs or in the actual garden. Apparently they are edible flowers that can “spice up any meal!” (the hippy packaging cheesiness, not mine this time) but those have to wait until the last frost.

That left us with a good month to plan which vegetables we wanted to grow and where. Dave had been home in L.I. the weekend before and scavenged a bunch of wood, which we (mostly he) used to build a big planter box. The box is just about finished, save for a coat of wood sealer and a garbage bag lining so we don’t pump ourselves full of formaldehyde ala Taz. Holes have been drilled into the bottom for proper drainage but we still need to cover them with some sort of screen or netting. After that we can fill the bottom layer of planter with gravel and a load of potting soil. We probably could have finished this all in one weekend but, you know, procrastination isn’t a hobby; it’s a way of life.

So how will this garden look once we the box is finished? The idea is to plant tomatoes, green beans, maybe onion, more herbs (parsley, mint, cilantro), eggplant and some sort of leafy green. Some flowers (edible or not) would be nice for some of the pots along the railing of the deck. Oh. And Serena’s strawberry bush.

I hear the birds chirping so that must mean it’s almost 6:00AM. It’s either time for what most people would call’ the start of a really productive day’ or as I sometimes refer to as ‘time to stop drinking.’ Until then, enjoy these pictures of Dave building a planter and me doing nothing useful. Stay tuned for more this weekend - I have a long train ride to CT and really don’t want to waste the whole ride on statistics homework. Smell ya later, or as Taz would say, “BLERG ARG GRRWOARF BLAH BLEEEEH HEY MAAAAAAAAAAN CHEESEBURGER AH-WOOOOOO”.





No Serena, you can't prepare the soil for your strawberry bush with a Solo cup of vodka










































OT Herbs has gone green (not pictured: Greg Hill)

























Caution: side effects of a Jewish father may lead to irritability and tricking others to work with tools and/or perform manual labor.

Hands Off My Arugula Chris Hansen!

No, not Chris Hansen per se. But I am thinking of predators. How can anyone hear the word predator and not think of Chris Hansen and "To Catch a Predator" (to those of you with a more discerning entertainment palate, I apologize and just pretend I'm referencing Arnold Schwarzenegger of 1987's Sci-fi thriller, "Predator")? Instead of creepy middle-aged suburban men (or, dreadlocked, crabfaced BAMF's) the predators I'm worried about live in the urban jungle. I would like to take a minute to identify our predators and classify their capability to destroy our garden. So cram it Chris Hansen (or auf wiedersehen Arnold) because there's a new hunter in town!




Predator: Feral Cat
Modus Operandi: Screeching loudly in the middle of the night; banging out like crazy; gnawing on anything they can get their switchblade-like claws on; terrorizing me.
Threat Level: 4
I am petrified of these little jerks. I have been stalked by many a cat but as much as I don’t want to admit it, their meow is worse than their stupid little cat bite. They are more concerned with getting it on then stuffing their faces with rosemary. Also, there are plenty of little old ladies/clueless families in our neighborhood that put out little bowls of milk. I’m not a cat psychologist or a cat nutritionist but I would think they would rather have a cold bowl of milk than a dusty sprig of rosemary.




Predator: Evil Squirrel
Modus Operandi: Chasing helpless Brooklynites from tree branch to tree branch; fighting pigeons for scraps of cart food; pretending to be cute while sharpening their claws; being really judgmental
Threat Level: 8
Another species of little jerks. These animals are swift, quiet and brutal. Many people believe they are cuddly and cute. Those of you who believe this have been brainwashed by the liberal media. There is nothing cute about a squirrel water skiing or photobombing your perfect vacation at some glacial lake or wherever that couple is in this picture

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbTZXfwfQUE8UDMciHaaDp6iosoz6QV9TTsY_AIshCJRsI5UfuhbSBZSgjMg3yldQ7AxaEzcBQRW0RyHV6SIgvUJ7DGfAAs9V6d3_k2Gm3gPuUwuVLfN_HZ0p7mgUMo4ElZ611SDHAuw/s1600-h/420squirrel-420x0.jpg

. The squirrels have you exactly where they want you but not me. I have experience on my side. My previous garden was sabotaged by a pack of mangey squirrels. This was in NJ so hopefully Brooklyn squirrels are less ruthless, although I doubt it. Feel free to contact my roommate Serena as she has already waged war with these scoundrels.


DON'T LOOK DIRECTLY INTO IT'S EYES



Predator: Drunken Squirrels
Modus Operandi: Working for Coors Light; guzzling seltzer; driving a black tinted window Honda Fit; eating beef jerky and cheese; doing crossword puzzles
Threat Level: 3-10
This rare species of born and bred Park Slopian without the pretentiousness and granola loving characteristics of your typical Park Slopian is slightly less dangerous than a feral cat. Larger, more destructive and (almost) fully self-aware, this predator has been known to bang on car hoods, commandeer cabs and crush Christmas ornaments with high heels. They may seem like an ally (as an entire planter and strawberry bush will be this squirrels pride and joy of the garden) but one too many vodkas and it’s all over. Combined with a penchant for fire and Marlboro Lights, an accidental drunken squirrel could be more destructive then an ill-intentioned F.C.

***If anyone can think of more urban predators then please comment below or call me IMMEDIATELY so we can update our defenses***

Urban Farming, take two.

Three years ago, on one of our drives through West and North Philly T-shirt and I had a stroke of genius. Why don't we start an urban garden on one of Philadelphia's vacant lots? The city is filled with them; nearly every neighborhood (save the aptly named, uber-bourgeois, Society Hill) has at least one plot of land that is in serious need of rehabilitation. We could stay in Philadelphia, have jobs that we liked and provide a service for the city. The wheels started turning and we decided to make some moves.

As the weeks went by and the weather warmed, we visited a nursery in North Philly for inspiration and advice. We quickly realized that a large scale urban garden requires a significant investment accompanied by a large and devoted staff. Undeterred we began to plan the next couple months. The land would be relatively inexpensive because it's Philly (enough said). T-shirt would gather technical advice from her mother, an avid gardner. Since she would be in Philly for the summer slaving away at a law firm we decided that I could start to plant some crop at my parents house in NJ (shocker - I was to immediately return home after graduation because I didn't have a job lined up...shocker 2.0-this was 2007, when any moron who could spell their name and had a college degree could find a job...unfortunately I kept forgetting "Phillips" has two "L's").

Then disaster struck: SENIOR WEEK. Actually, to be honest, disaster struck much earlier. Now, I can only speak for myself but when the weather gets warmer I immediately get boozier. I don't want to stick beer bottles in T-shirt's mouth but I think she suffers from the same affliction. Long story short, we fell into a vicious cycle of happy hours, binge drinking, saying goodbyes and not remembering a G.D. thing and starting the process all over again...FOR 2 MONTHS.

Needless to say, we left college violently hungover and full of fuzzy memories. I left with a little something extra...no, you dirty, dirtrry readers, not a STD but Mono. Before we knew it I was pumped full of steroids and on a plane to Europe and T-shirt was living in a sweaty shoebox off of Rittenhouse sqaure, both of us filled with self-loathing and unfulfilled dreams.

Flash forward to the past few weeks. I am in Brooklyn living with three roommates, two of them SJU alums. My roommate Dave and I share a similar ideology when it comes to food; local, fresh and cheap. So we have decided to set up a small garden on our roof. I am going to (hopefully) blog on a weekly basis about the trials and tribulations of growing your own food in a limited space by two people who are clueless about gardening. I will include pictures as often as possible and maybe will even have some special guests blog for me. Or Maybe I won't. Who knows. Wish us luck.

And sorry for such a long post - I promise never to go on this long ever again.