Some of my earliest memories are of my father in a circa 1970's Speedo, standing over our backyard vegetable garden with a hose in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Actually if he was feeling particularly coordinated he had the hose in one hand, a beer in the other and a cigarette sticking out of his lips at the perfect angle to avoid getting smoke in his eyes. He grew his own vegetables because it was healthier.
Looking down the line of backyards through the chain link fence it was a similar vision, with the fathers, their Speedos and their vegetable gardens. The women seemed to prefer the more genteel activities of the day like doing their nails and popping valium.
I took after my father. I loved vegetable gardening from day 1 and couldn't get over how amazing it was that you could plant a little spec of something and come back a few months later and find food. Actually that's modern day me talking. When I was little I could barely wait the 3 weeks it took to make a radish. Part of the other reason I got so into vegetable gardening was the fact that there was a huge, family owned organic (wayyyy before organic was a thing) vegetable seed distributor near our house. William Dam Seeds was promoting organic seeds and growing when that sort of thing was just plain weird. A passing phase for sure.
I went through their seed catalogue the way most kids would go through a toy catalogue. I grew butternut squash and Rainbow Swiss Chard and other things my mother looked sideways at. She hated gardening by the way. Still does. Why grow peas that didn't even have a can surrounding them? It didn't make any sense.
So when our community garden needed someone to organize their plant sale this year guess who volunteered!! Not me. I have too much stuff to do. No, my name was forwarded, nominated and elected without me ever raising my hand. So, as it turns out, I organized the plant sale.
Where I sold chicken eggs.
And yes, plants.
There are about 50 members in our community garden and it's the widest range of people you could imagine. Everyone from University students to octogenarians, black, white, gay, straight, they are all at the community garden. It's great.
This fine lady is from Zimbabwe for example and showed me how to till the soil "African Style" with a massive, frightening looking hoe. Africans apparently don't do shovels.
From Earl the octogenarian I learned you cannot trust someone not to steal just because they're an octogenarian. Sticky fingers that Earl. Just kidding. Earl is GREAT and I'm pretty sure he's everyone's favourite gardener. He even likes me even though he knows I swear when the weather is cold.
This vintage egg holder was the perfect thing for holding individual cells of plants. It would also be perfect for ice cream cones but it's still too cold out. Shit. GARGTFF. Shit. Sorry Earl. Just kidding by the way. It was cold the day of the plant sale but it's currently a bazilliokajillmazillion degrees.
Yup. My Rough Linen Pinafore. The big pockets were great for collecting money. That I had pickpocketed.
If you have a small organization this kind of thing is a great way to raise money by the way. We rocked it. A bunch of people (myself included) volunteered to grow plants and everyone who didn't grow plants showed up to buy some. We had a HUGE variety of stuff like cabbages, brussels sprouts (yeah they didn't get the note about how gross brussels sprouts are), an insane variety of heirloom and rare cherry tomatoes, my mix of heirloom tomatoes, ground cherries, turnip, herbs, aloe plants, onions, heirloom leeks, 3 different types of kale and a bunch of other stuff. That's my excellent story telling ability showing it's head there. "A bunch of other stuff" is often seen in great literary works of fiction.
You know one of the reasons I really wish my father was alive is so he could see just how much I've embraced vegetable gardening. I'm sure he'd be proud of the gardens I keep and all the work I put into it all. My mother? Well she's just proud I don't do it in a Speedo, with a beer in one hand and a cig in the other.
Have a great weekend!
Melissa
Was waiting for the vintage b&w of your dad in the garden with his cigarette...
Jenny W
Thank goodness my Father thought of his children's future mental health, and forgo the speedo!
But yes, Dad always did the gardening, both veggie and flower, and Mom did the canning and cooking. There were buttts involved, and wine, lotsa wine :)
Rose
Dang Girl, my Dad wore a Speedo too....purple, and I wish I could knock that visual from my memory bank! He didn't garden much, just watered the grass while enjoying a"beveridge".
Lindy
What a great thing to do: brava. And I loved and envied that vintage egg holder. A good find there. If you look on my website today you can see the AMAZING brass vases I found in my favourite French junk shop. Dirt cheap and utterly fab. What more could one want? http://www.fruitfulresearch.com
Did you know what Australians call speedos? Budgie Smugglers.
Marna
I remember my dad letting me have little areas in the gardens to try growing many different things. I grew potatoes with the roses, flowers with his own vegetables etc. He had multiple garden areas and chickens. I sure miss him (died 24 years ago) and those times. Cute photo of you! :)
whitequeen96
Oh man, I was really hoping for a photo of your Dad in his Speedo. I'm sure he would have been cute!
Jacquie
I think it used to be mainly men who grew veg and stuff because in those days, allotments were the equivalent of a man cave - bit of peace and quiet away from the kids and wife. My 83 year old dad still grows enough tomatoes to feed the whole street.
Nancy Blue Moon
Really great plants...really great prices!
Lez
In the UK they call Speedos 'Budgie smugglers', which I think is hilarious! Picture it Karin & Cred!! :)
MissChris SA
My grandpa was the ultimate gardener. His weekend sport was gardening - he had a massive massive garden and that is where he spent his weekends. I think the only fruit he did not have may have been custard apples and brussel sprouts for veggies. I used to love watching him garden. It was fitting that he passed away as a result of his gardening (had a heart attack whilst gardening).
I never thought I inherited his love for gardening but the older I get, the more I enjoy it and my veggie garden has become my all time favourite. As you say, there is something really satisfying about watching something you planted grow into something edible and the taste of home grown food far surpasses any shop bought produce!
Cred
And I can relate to 'dad in a speedo'. Mine never gardened in his but he wears one to this day. Now, my dad is still really fit in his senior years but still... really, Dad? The speedo does no one justice- think of the children.... your children"
Lez
In the UK they call Speedos ‘Budgie smugglers’, which I think is hilarious! Picture it Karin & Cred!! :)
Cred
Omgawd! Bwahaha! That's hilarious.
Karen O Lee
LMAO!!!
Cred
Okay, this is based on a very small sample size, but it seems to me that perhaps at one time, men tended the vegetable garden moreso than women. My maternal grandfather but never my grandmother, our neighbour's husband, my guy's dad, my dad did, never my mom (she occupied her time with things my dad couldn't do himself, like castrate the pigs- yep, she did). Now, at least in the small circle I dwell in, it seems the trend is for women to grow the veg garden rather than the men.
Perhaps a poll of TAODS readers is warranted in a future post.
Kathleen
Your dad, my dad... same gardening style. My dad these days only waters the garden and issues instructions about what to plant where. Well, he is 80 after all. And prefers walking to bending and kneeling.
He grows the most wonderful fruit these days, not so much vegetables. My mother was the veggie gardener.
Another wonderful post, invoking the most wonderful memories. Thank you for that.
Stephanie Barnhart
I'd be afraid to garden in speedos. Too many bug bites! Yikes!
Sue
GARGTFF means?
Brenda
Cigarette butt - haha ...
lavacha
I have a neighbour that still rocks your dad's style, and another living memory: a little old lady that looks like she sprung from a Doris Day movie. My gran used to garden like that ;)
DLM
Genteel perhaps, rather than "gentile"? Which is not to say that one cannot be both at the same time of course!
Karen
LOL. Perhaps a genteel, gentile. Uch. That's the THIRD typo in this post! I just corrected 2 other ones! ~ karen
A guy
I mean cigarette.
Karen
Uh huh, lol. ~ karen!
A guy
Great visual, except for the butt.