A garden writer’s friend

… As I write all of these garden articles about the pleasantries of the pastime, my buddy lies on his office bed that I made for him a couple of years ago. It’s right here, under the big green desk that I keep mostly computer data DVDs in. The bed is made of a large black plastic storage container with a folded blanket on top.

He lets me know that he's there with a swish of his big furry gray and white tail. Swish … Swish … Every five to ten minutes … Swish … Swish … I wonder if he is trying to get my attention or if he is just making sure that I, his buddy, am still close by. I say to him, “I’m here with you, buddy.”

No matter what time of the day or night that I am here at these desks, in front of these computers, my friend is here beside me, helping me stay focused on writing.

When he first came to live with me, he was only about four weeks old. A customer of mine gave him to me. She said he was born in a barn and her husband wouldn’t let him stay inside. He was so tiny then. He barely filled up the palm of my hand. He liked to be close and warm back then. He’d get under the covers at night and I would lose him and panic! I was always afraid I’d crush him in the night. My other friend, Spot didn’t know what to think about the situation. He just learned to accept the change and the new addition to the family. That was in January, 1999.

I named my new little buddy “Puff” after the elementary school reader character. It seemed only apropos that he should be named Puff, especially since there was already a Spot in the house. (Spot the Cat)

When he became a teenager later that same year, I noticed that every afternoon I came in from the greenhouse to find the food container emptied onto the floor. This became a daily ritual, mind you. The container was a free-feeding type plastic box that held four pounds of dry food and would replenish the attached bowl as it became emptied. Finally, I figured out what was going on there. He was growing exponentially and eating his fair share to get that way! Spot ate from the same bowl, so there was some noticeable competition there. He was apparently afraid that the food would stop feeding itself into the dish and he would go hungry. He was simply trying to calculate just how much food was in the container and how long it would last between two cats.

Puff grew into a thirty-three pound lap baby. Spot was no wimp either. Spot; a twelve pound, long and lean black Siamese cat and Puff the big gray and white Maine Coon. Puff and Spot remained good friends until Spot’s death in December, 2005.

Puff became a star on the Home Grown Tomatoes live video broadcasts. It seemed that a lot of folks were tuning in just to catch a view of Puff and his television antics. In fact, there’s a video on Justin TV of Puff wrecking the HGT studio with his giant tail! http://www.justin.tv/clip/b573a814bfb The clip is also on YouTube and other video share websites. The video also shows Minky passing through the HGT studio. Minky died last year.omeH

I took this time away from my garden writing and other chores to write about my friend here, lying on his bed at my knees. It has taken a lot of courage for me to do it because Puff is dying. He fell ill recently and is unable to recover.

Yesterday, Puff wanted to lie on the floor by the outside door in the office so he could at least smell the outdoors. He hasn’t been able to enjoy looking out of the window since last Saturday. A strange thing occurred while he was trying so very hard to stay comfortable. I noticed a deer in the back yard looking toward the storm door. I seized the moment, grabbed my camera and snapped a couple of pics. But then I realized it wasn’t about me. The deer was there to see Puff. Then there were two more deer that slowly passed by along with two chipmunks. It was as if they were stopping by to say goodbye to their old friend who used to watch them from the upper deck.

When I started this story about an hour ago, Puff had not moved from his resting position. I brushed his tail with my hand to let him know that I was still with him.

Puff has died.

He will lie in state here on his bed tonight so that Pepper the Cat may pay respects.

Puff will be buried tomorrow beside his friend Spot in the Tomato Tower Pet Cemetery. Minky and Miss Whiskers are also buried there, so he will be in great company.

So long Puff. You will be missed.

I am angry and sad because I have lost my best friend. That’s all I have to say about that.

The Garden Revival

I have enjoyed being close to the Earth for as long as I can remember. I'll bet that old septic tank had a layer of Red Mountain dirt in it three feet thick from the baths I had to take under Granny's orders back in old Number 11 camp. I remember the seemingly huge, bigger than any other tree in the world, hackberry that canopied my dirt playground in our backyard at the foot of the mountain in Ishkooda. I'd spend hours making dirt roads for my toy cars to travel on with the remaining part of a garden hoe's head.

The neighbors up the street had, what we called, snowball bushes. Little did I know back then that they were only French hydrangeas (Hydrangea macrophylla) and not the real snowball bushes known as Viburnums. All I remember about those bushes back then is that they were blue and bees loved them and that was pretty scary for a six year old boy!

We had rose bushes and dahlias, touch-me-nots and zinnias. I remember crocus and jonquils in the late winter and marigolds in the spring. But my favorite flowers of all were the four-o'clocks! They shouted to the whole neighborhood, "It's SUMMERTIME!"

35 years later...

I bought an old house back in 1997. It used to be a church. I always thought the old place was neat how it sat there on the hill, overlooking the main artery from Vincent to Brent. Across the highway from the old house, in behind the woods, was a Norfolk Southern rail line. I sure loved to hear that train whistle blow. It reminded me of the days in the camp when we'd hear the trains running from tipple to tipple around the mountain's shoulder or the distant trains traveling through Powderly on their way to New Orleans. Maybe the old Southern Crescent was headed back to DC from the Crescent City, I don't know. What I did know was that the former church had a higher purpose and it was up to me to find it!

In December of 1997 I found myself between employment situations. I took this opportunity to search for a higher and nobler purpose for myself. It was time for me to start looking for the situation that I loved rather than the money trying to buy happiness. I needed to take a position where I could do mindless work for a reasonable salary, thus allowing me to monkey-move my hands and think while doing. I found a position with a wholesale nursery and another with a retail nursery. What a deal it was?! I worked for Twin Lakes Nursery on Monday through Friday and for Burchfield's Garden Center on Saturday and Sunday. I studied under one of the greats in the industry. Mark Burchfield knew his version of how to make money in the nursery business. He taught me some of the simple tricks of the trade that increased his profit margin by so much, I'd be afraid to tell you! Mark doesn't have people skills for the retail end of the business, but when asked, he is always willing to share his knowledge and skill. Mark and I became good friends.

I learned how to custom mix fertilizers, adjust potting soils to my watering habits, how to water properly and how to pot plants; thousands and thousands of plants! I was made manager of the wholesale nursery the first week on the job. The spring rush was on the way and there were a lot of plants to get ready to, as Mark used to say, take to work. I sat on a potting stool and potted and studied nearly every plant at the nursery. While I sat and potted, I thought out and planned my future as a nurseryman. In March of 1998, I established the name for my nursery, "The Garden Revival."

I planned for nine months, then built my nursery; a retail establishment that carried more than just plants. The Garden Revival stocked some of the nicest garden gift merchandise in Alabama.

I decided to open the doors in the middle of the week in order to test the waters, so to speak. I opened the doors for business at 10:30 AM Central Time on St. Patrick's Day, March 17th, 1999. So please join me in celebrating the 10th anniversary of the Garden Revival!