Call me hasty.
On the eve of my departure for another hemisphere, another continent, another season, I dug and pulled and lifted and fertilized and sowed.
I have little doubt that my fledgling fall crops (arugula, mache, mustard and a squash wild card - the fava beans and peas must wait till I return) will be overwhelmed with invigorated weed seeds by the time I return in mid September. But it had to be done. Our house is still half-boxes, and the garden is just an idea, but I can't let weeks pass without some investment in the soil.
After a week and a day in residence we feel suddenly at peace after almost two years on eggshells. I had not expected such a sudden dialing down of tension. The nervous energy and uncertainty of our Harlem building have gone. Our new building is quiet. These streets are quiet. It is days between sirens. Our landlord is responsive and low key and a good man.
Thank you to everyone who has sent us messages of support during the upheaval of our move. The last few weeks have not been easy, but we are beginning to see the shape of things to come.
Book an Autumn Walk