The First Class

Well I held my first organic gardening class this Saturday. Without sounding too full of myself, I'd like to say that I thought it was a smashing success. The numbers weren't huge, there were 7 people and myself, but the ones that did come out really were the exact kind of people that I was hoping to have. I had prepared to give a pretty traditional class where I would talk and the others would listen and maybe ask a few questions. That wasn't what I was hoping for, but I prepared for it as a "just in case" measure. When the people started filing in, I felt there was an immediate connection and the questions came quickly. I decided to start at the beginning as I see it, and talked about siting, sun, soil and water. We talked a lot about how to improve our poor native soil (heavy clay and sand.) with composting and double digging and about understanding our land and it's micro climates. I brought along one of my potted potato plants to make the point that as urban farmers we really have the opportunity to think outside the [garden] box; it was a big hit and solicited quite a few questions. Everyone said they definitely will see me next week, so I'll take that as a good sign! I even had a couple of them suggest that I needed to get involved with our local farmers market committee. I will admit that it's on my radar, but one cause at a time I guess.

The greatest thing that I think I was able to take from the class was the very thing that I had hoped for. I felt a kinship with others in my community that feel that same way that I do about our need to take back ownership over our food supply. I feel like it may be the beginning of a positive network of community growers. I couldn't ask for more.

Finally, I just wanted to take a second to say thank you to my wife A~. Without her believing in me, I don't think I would have had the guts to put myself out there like I did. I love ya sweetie, Thanks!

In other news, we held the wake for my uncle Ted at our home for my extended family to get together. It went well I think and I got to re-meet a lot of second cousins and great aunts and uncles that I rarely see. We enjoyed a DVD that my father put together for the event and shared some great stories. I think the closure process has begun. Thank you to all of you, family and friends, that left comments and well wishes after his passing. It means so much to me to know our family is in your thoughts and prayers.

Hope you all had a great weekend.

P~

He will be missed!

This evening I gathered with my family who have come in from points far and wide to talk about and remember my Uncle Ted. We all received a bit of a shock on Friday when he passed suddenly of, what I understand, was a severe heart attack. We took a little while as a family to throw out adjectives and descriptions and memories in an effort to sum up our experiences with a person who's life was like few others.
I've written about Ted before on my other blog as one of my life's influences:

"My uncle Ted - The roaming uncle with the VW beetle, wrap around sunglasses, stories of rock hounding in the southwest and works of art that painted my childhood. He was the first "great artist" that I ever knew. I think a good deal of my curiosity and desire to learn how to create things were influenced by him. I wanted to paint, and draw, and learn to make silver jewelry like the octopus earrings that he made that would seem to climb up the wearers ear. If your reading Ted, Thanks."

It is no less true now.
Ted was born with cerebral palsy. I say this not in an effort to paint a portrait of him, but more as a sort of frame. It was something that was immediately apparent to some degree, but really had nothing to do with the main work. I speak in the terms of the art world, of paintings and frames for a reason, because they were a great deal of the context in which I always knew him.

My earliest memories of Uncle Ted are of a wild haired story teller in blue jeans and black glasses. He reveled me with tales of finding turquoise and geodes in the mountains of the Southwest, living in a garage near the beaches of Southern California where he painted or made jewelry, or driving across the desert in my Grandpas old '64 Ford truck. (This would later be my first vehicle.)

As I grew up and gravitated toward the arts, Ted was almost like a silent mentor. Our home had paintings and watercolors of his on the walls, and from time to time he'd "Blow in" and tell me how good my work was. In the late 80's and early 90's when I was just starting to find some of the possibilities that were becoming available in the arts through computers, he again showed up and blew me away with the work that he was doing on them that was ahead of it's time.

Through my 20's, as I served in the Army, the day to day of life kept me busy with myself and I had very little contact with him. The one time I do remember us being together he surprised me with stories of his days in the Navy, he had lied to the recruiters so that he could get in. No mere government officer was going to stop him if he had a goal!

In 2000 I had the pleasure of seeing him again and this time I was meeting the wonderfully sweet woman that after over 50 years of living life, was finally enough to fill his heart. As with everything Ted did, he loved Betty with a passion that only he could. I have no doubt that his life was richer and fuller in his last years because of her.

In the last 7 years or so he had moved back to Salt Lake City and we've been able to visit more often again. We've debated politics, talked about dreams, shared our over the top ideas and laughed. I feel so blessed that just a few weeks ago, I was able to have Ted over to the house for the day. We caught up with what we were planning, walked in the garden and I got to show him the butternut squashes that were growing from the seed he saved and sent me for Christmas. He'd become quite a gardener of his own in the last few years and shared with pride his successes with lemons and kumquats that he had had that year. (I laughed inside when we were at his house tonight and I found the refrigerator note pad with his tick marks counting the citrus as he harvested them. We really are so much alike, I have been meticulously weighing and documenting all of my harvests too.) He also wanted to pass on to me a shotgun that had been my grandfathers, my fathers and his. I will treasure it forever.

Ted accomplished so much more in his life than many people ever do and more to the point, he did it in his own way, with a smile and a story. In looking back, and talking with Betty today, she mentioned that had Ted been born with a different body, a stronger one, that he may well have been a very different person. It struck me that perhaps he was given that burden because not only could he bear it, but because he would excel despite it and in doing so would enable us to learn and see all that was possible when we believed in ourselves and accepted no less that our very best.

Ted will be missed, yes. But far more than that, he will be remembered!

P~