Handiwork...or The Old Fashioned Way

Happy last week of April...a time of year that truly deserves special appellation on the calendar for those of us in the "seasonal"professions. Barring the types of abominations that bookend a bell curve of weather expectations, events like snow, a hard freeze, seven inches of rain...you get the idea.....this is the week machinery of all configurations typically crowds the fields and highways. With the first of May peeking out from under the next calendar page, trees in full flower and the whine of mowers a constant accompaniment, gardeners throw caution to the winds and clog the parking lots of garden centers and nurseries like bees in a hive.

But at the greenhouse, the mechanical helping hands that sped the job of transplanting and filling flats sit idle as the tide of spring brings a transition from planting and growing to picking up the flats of flowers, vegetables, and choosing the finished hanging baskets and mixed planters for customers in four states. There is always an element of art in the growing of plants; there are rules of thumb and seasons of experience we rely upon. But when push comes to shove, we cannot grow plants from our devices or our instruments or our rules and records, or even necessarily follow our hard won experience; we have to get out amongst 'em, feel what they feel, pick them up, turn them over. It's detail, it's habit, it's time consuming....and absolutely essential.

So much of this enterprise is handwork. Watering in is rule 1,

but tagging is a close second. A perfectly beautiful flat of flowers will be left behind like Cinderella from the ball without a tag.....and no one wants to guess whether that vine in the corner will grow to bear a 20 # pumpkin....or 2 dozen zucchini!

Whether our customers order one flat of this and two flats of that..or 256 flats of marigolds and 243 flats of mixed zinnias, they are all picked up and carried by hand, two by two, the most ancient and elemental means of transport. It is piecework and not the stuff of glory...and it is the grand accomplishment of every single day. Flat by flat, basket by basket, truck by truck,until the greenhouses get too hot to bear and the whiteboard calendar is bare.

I am reading a book about work right now, believe it or not, a book that deals with work from a Biblical viewpoint, work as a vocation, a calling. I am comforted and encouraged by this interpretation when I do the most menial of tasks during the day: bagging the trash, emptying the dishwasher, putting away the laundry.

 Even though these chores are replayed daily, hourly in households world wide and require no especial talent, still, it would be universally acknowledged that the world is a better place when work like this is done. According to Martin Luther, these homely commonplace jobs are as beautiful in the sight of the Almighty as any other service rendered to His glory.

 With this insight, the work of the farmer , the gardener, the carpenter, the truck driver, the plumber, the welder, all become holy offerings when performed with our whole energy and effort. The outcome may not suit us; there won't be a standing ovation; we may consider our work menial or pedestrian or ephemeral....but our goals should be our best...no less.

These are the thoughts I ponder as I fill the carts with petunias and marigolds, snapdragons and salvia. Common annuals, beautiful and fresh as spring this day on April, but gone with the season like the proverbial lilies of the field. Some days my job seems trivial compared to the weighty burdens of the mighty, but I trust it is an offering to grow beautiful plants using the raw materials God has provided and the blessing of day by day work, no matter how humble.

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Stick a Fork in It

The calendar says April.

We celebrate Easter whether spring decides to join us or not. Farm machinery of all configurations waits inside field gates, like Thoroughbreds champing at the bit before the call to post at Churchill Downs.

The radar gets checked incessantly: some wishing for rain, some wishing it would go away.

At Hurst Greenery, we worry our phone apps like the puppies work over a shoe; is it warm enough to load the truck? Will the tomatoes, or impatiens, or vinca be huddled and shrunken when they reach their destination? Or...worse yet...might they be frozen carcasses like one misbegotten delivery last year which began at 70 degrees in Westboro before plunging below freezing in a paroxysm of sleet and wind on I-80 in central Nebraska....
Not this year. This past Friday night channel 3 had some kind of sticky gooey frosted dessert on the set; meteorologist Jim Flowers ceremonially sliced and diced that cake, sticking his fork in it and declaring, as he has for lo these many years, that winter in Omaha was a goner.

How done is winter? Let me count the ways.

1) Put a fork in winter is done because Lee picked her first asparagus.

2) Abbie lost a flipflop at church this evening.

3) We turned off the alarm system at Hurst Greenery

4) Jeff Umbarger says he hopes he's made his last Saturday propane delivery (We hope so too, Jeff....come see us when you're ready to plant tomatoes!)

5) Spring is sprung because I changed out the winter garden banner on the pergola..there have been years I didn't accomplish that task until Memorial Day!

6) It might be spring if the Schlueter family takes a family bike ride...except for Grizzy, who runs along....over to Spruce...and no one tells Josh he can't get in the sandbox.

7) Winter is over when Lizzie and Abbie pick a generous handful of jolly daffodils.

8) It is surely spring when Ben sends us a picture of his first scorecard for the young baseball season.

9) On a similar note, Mike Shannon and Cardinal baseball provide the background music for Hurst Greenery office time on Sunday afternoons.

10) Put a fork in winter when it is time for Millie and Blake plant flat after flat of cucumber, melon, zucchini and pumpkin seed.

11) The moms admit defeat and let the kids create mud concoctions and play in the buckets of dog water on Saturday afternoons. (Playing in the water is still off limits for after school...).

12) The Dairy Diner beckons! So does Culver's, Dairy Queen, Sheridan's, Sonic...you get the picture.

Whether your fancy turns to gardening...or baseball....or ice cream...turn over that seasonal leaf and rejoice! Ding, dong, the wicked old winter is dead!

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