My Life As A Waterboy


Watering Can

Growing up, I dreamed of becoming many things. A paleontologist. A farmer. Not once, though, did it ever cross my mind to be a waterboy — probably because the only waterboy job I had ever heard of was attached to a sports team, and because of my athletic inability, well . . . Let’s just say I would never qualify for that position.

Yet, here I am: a waterboy — in essence, a boy who waters plants for a living.

I began this seasonal position at a nearby box store a few months ago. Joe, as well as my parents and even some of my current coworkers, thought it was an insane decision. Who, in their right mind, would ever want to work in a south Florida garden center during the hottest months of the year?

I would, that’s who. Perhaps it was a chance to do something less stressful than my previous job as a high school social worker. Perhaps it was a chance to marry a job with something that I love, in this case plants. Perhaps it was a chance t scratch off a bucket list item. Perhaps it was a chance to stray off the path, to find a new route as I create another life chapter.

More than likely, it’s a combination of all of the above.

Hose

So I here I stand, hose in hand, hat on head, and slathered in sunblock, watering plants and helping customers with mulch and soil, fencing and pavers. It’s definitely a far cry from my previous retail work — a thousand years ago — as a men’s cologne sprayer in a now-defunct department store.

Watering plants, no matter if it’s in one’s own garden or in a nursery, is a meditative experience. It’s a chance to think of the past, process the present, and plan for the future. It’s a time to reflect.

At least that’s what it is for me — and now that I’ve been doing this for a bit of time, I thought I would share some of what I’ve contemplated — about watering, business, and me.

1.  Most Magical Watering Day: One day, milkweed arrived on the tables — and as I was watering, I noticed one monarch caterpillar nibbling on the slender green leaves. Then, another caterpillar. And another.

Monarch Caterpillar

Meanwhile, monarch butterflies flitted among the nearby lantana — and as I moved my water wand to some neighboring canna, I noticed on the underside of one leaf, a small green lantern that looked as if someone had used the tiniest of brushes to paint the tiniest line of gold dots around the rim. It was the first time I had ever seen a monarch chrysalis.

Monarch Chrysalis

2. The Music Loop, Part 1: Just like most retailers, this store has it’s own music loop. I barely pay attention to it, until I hear a familiar song from the ‘80s or anything by Adele.

One song, I noticed, always gets my attention — and this is the moment I have to make a very difficult admission.   After years of fighting it, I have become a Belieber — all because of Justin Bieber’s “Love Yourself” and this one line: “My momma don’t like you and she likes everyone.”

3. Water, Water Everywhere: Watering is a critical gardening task, especially in the summer — and this summer, for many, has been a long and hot one.

For garden centers and nurseries, watering takes on a whole new urgency, especially since a) the merchandise has to be kept alive and b) outdoor gardening areas are the most unnatural environments for any plant to grow. There is lots of sunbaked pavement and little shade, which creates a desert-like world. Plants often arrive from vendors in growing media that drains quickly — and these potted plants are packed so tightly together on tables that not even rainwater can penetrate the leaf canopy.

Elephant Ears

For waterboys and watergirls, it’s imperative to get the water as close to the soil as possible while being careful to not wet the leaves and flowers, especially when there is the risk of leaf burn from the blazing sun. The general rule of thumb is to water until water flows from the bottom of the pot, no matter if that pot is on a table or hanging.

As a consumer, make note of how employees are watering. Pick up the pot and determine if it’s heavy (well-watered) or light (in desperate need of a drink). Stick a finger into the top inch of soil. If your finger reaches moist soil, that’s a good thing. If the soil is dry that far down, there’s a watering issue.

4. Favorite Plants to Water: Without a doubt, it’s a treat to water the herbs. As I aim the gentle spray of water into the soil, I let the tip of the nozzle brush against the leaves — and I’m rewarded with the most amazing aromas: basil, oregano, cilantro, thyme. It’s not surprising that after watering the herbs, I’m ready to eat.

Hose

5. Corporate Is The Answer: In my time at the store, I’ve made several suggestions about a) moving some part-shade plants out of full sun, b) creating a Florida native table, c) creating a table dedicated to butterfly gardening, and d) creating a watering log that’s meaningful.   While coworkers, vendors, and managers listen to these ideas, the answer is always a single word: “Corporate.”

It’s there — wherever there is — where decisions are made about the overall appearance and layout of the store, including the garden center — as if all garden centers all exist in the same zone with the same overhead sun movement. It’s also where vendors are designated specific tables — and that’s why one vendor’s part shade plant cannot be moved to another vendor’s table in the shade house.

6: The Music Loop, Part 2: There’s another song on the loop that has completely consumed me. It’s “Chandelier,” by Sia, and each time I hear it, I fantasize about breaking out into an interpretive dance, a la the video, between the annuals and perennials.

7. The Plant Label: When reading those plants labels — the ones that outline the water and sun needs of your plant — be sure to know your zone. With corporations comes a homogenized selection of plants — which means, for the most part, I can walk into any box store across the country and find the same plants with the same labels.

For south Florida gardeners, “full sun” on a plant label should come with an asterisk, since our full sun is often brighter, hotter, and longer than in many other areas of the country. In other words, full sun plants in Florida can use some shade.

8. The Devil Wears Garden Gloves: One day, I was introduced to a vendor rep and I mentioned to him that customers — hungry for knowledge — are curious about two specific things: Florida native plants and butterfly gardening. I suggested it would be great to have tables dedicated to those plants.

He agreed with me — and then he schooled me. It was nowhere near Meryl Streep lecturing Anne Hathaway about a shade of blue in The Devil Wears Prada, but it was just as eye opening about the retail process. In short, it can take up to four or five years for an idea to move from the boardroom to fruition — and in that time there are meetings, market research, meetings, data analysis, meetings, and so on and so on.

9. Favorite Garden Center Moment: I love when new deliveries arrive, and racks and racks of plants are wheeled out of the cool climate-controlled air of the truck. There is a freshness that rises from each plant — a combination of soil and new greenery.

Some of the plants are wrapped in brown paper or, like orchids, in large boxes. Opening them is like Christmas morning.

Pink Orchid

It’s also an opportunity to work with the vendor as he sets about placing the plants on the tables and endcaps, arranging them for maximum impact. With one delivery, the garden center becomes a magnificent garden — and this is where my work ethic comes into play.

As the waterboy, I feel as if each plant is my own — and each customer who walks in should always look about them and feel as if they are the first people to enter this garden. That’s how I roll. That’s how I water.

10: The Customer Is Always Right, Most Of The Time: First, let’s discuss the customers at the top of my manure list — the customers who walk in and command me to get them what they need without a please or a thank you and without lifting a finger to help. I realize they may not want to get their clothes dirty, but please, stop texting and hold the cart in place so it doesn’t roll into traffic as I load your vehicle with fifteen bags of mulch.

Fortunately, for all us, these people are few and far between. Most customers shopping in the garden center are happy and pleasant — and I love talking to them, answering their questions, reassuring them that they do not have brown thumbs, and listening to their visions for their gardens. I’m always struck by how eager they are to learn and to share their own gardening experiences.

Their joy and excitement are contagious!

Sun

I admit that working in a south Florida garden center during the summer months is hot. Very hot. Getting splashed with water from the hose helps a bit, but the zone 10 sun tends to keep this water on the warm side.

Still, when I arrive home, I’m filthy, grimy, sweaty, and exhausted. I’m also happy, and that’s what this journey — for me and for all of us — has to be about.

Wordless Wednesday: Caladium


Caladium

A few words: I love to photograph plants when they’re backlit by the sun. The illumination gives a whole new appearance to the leaf or flower.

One recent afternoon, as I was leaving the house, I thought I saw a flame from the corner of my eye.  When I turned to look, it was a caladium leaf.

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Before & After


Before

This post should have been posted weeks ago. My initial plan was to list it as a Wordless Wednesday piece featuring before and after photos of my Florida garden, courtesy of Google maps.

But as I often do for a Wordless Wednesday post, I like to add a few words — only this time, the words were making a wordless post a bit wordier. So Wednesdays came and went, and as I stared at the two photos — the before and after of a landscape — I thought of my own before and after.

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I Won A Tree


Frangipani

At each monthly meeting of the local garden club, a raffle is held. For one dollar, members can win something — usually a plant — donated by another club member.

In the past, I’ve won a sturdy plastic hand rake, a sprouting Everglades tomato plant, and an orchid — small items that don’t take up a lot of space in the shed or garden.

Mostly, though, purchasing a raffle at the meeting is a chance to support the club.

Club raffles are an interesting beast — or rather, the club members themselves are. Some members like to stack the basket and so they purchase five to ten dollars worth of tickets. Others, like me, are more conservative — just a dollar and a dream.

The thing is, I’ve never dreamed of winning a tree — especially this tree — and yet, here I am with the winning ticket and my new tree.

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Small Town, Big Heart


Beaver Island

A package arrived in the mail recently. It came from Cindy Ricksger, a long-time reader and frequent commenter on this blog.

It also came all of the way from Beaver Island, Michigan.

I must admit, I had never heard of Beaver Island before “meeting” Cindy. It’s not the sort of place that comes up on my analytics page, the feature in which the WordPress folks add color to all of the home countries of readers and visitors.

While the United States is certainly in color on this analytics page, as are South Africa and India and England, Beaver Island is a bit too small to receive any colorized treatment.

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Wordless Wednesday: Under The Rainbow


Rainbow Eucalyptus

When it was first founded decades ago, Eucalyptus Gardens, a property in Wilton Manors, FL, was a full-scale nursery. The business eventually folded, and the land fell into disuse.

In recent years, though, some enterprising entrepreneurs have attempted to repurpose the space as a neighborly gathering place for dining and coffee and shopping.

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The Ghost Of Spring Present


Bougainvillea

At last, I’m able to sit down and concentrate on part two of my south Florida spring post. You see, for the past week or so, numerous northern friends have traveled south for spring break so they can get a taste of northern summer.

Such is the state of spring in the Sunshine State. Even as I write this, the outdoor thermometer reads 90 degrees in the shade.

Still, my Florida gardening friends have assured me — on more than one occasion — that there are, in fact, subtle signs of spring in zone 10, and if I want to see them, I have to know where to look.

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The Ghost Of Spring Past


Hyacinth

I’m not sure when I fell in love with spring, but I have a feeling it began at birth. I’m an April baby, so for all of my life, I anticipated the season with excitement.

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Bloomin’ Update 56: Going Bananas!


Banana

Ever since Joe first noticed the flower stem emerging from the crown of our banana tree, I’ve been singing the song “Going Bananas.” Madonna sang it during her Dick Tracey years and it pops into my head whenever I walk by the tree and observe the changes in the inflorescence.

Actually, I don’t even know the words — just the chorus, and even that’s a bit shaky. So all I really ever sing is “I’m going bananas” and then I add a few la-la-las and a couple of boom-chick-a-booms.

Simply put, I’m going bananas because I’m growing bananas.

Banana

Within a few days, the flower stem is pulled downward by the weight of the inflorescence, so that it’s peeking below the dark green foliage and looking a lot like the Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors.

Banana Fact: This flower stem is actually the plant’s true stem, growing from the rhizome below the ground and pushing its way upward through the false stem or pseudostem, a very fibrous, water-filled stem of tightly packed leaf sheaths.

As it grows, modified leaves or bracts curl back to reveal rows of young fruit.

Banana

Each of these are tipped with a pale yellow female flower. The male flowers are contained in the reddish-brown bud at the end of the flower stem.

Banana

Soon, more and more bananas are revealed. Each bunch is called a hand, and each single banana is called a finger.

Banana Fact: Each hand can have between 10 and 20 fingers.

Banana

I’m so enamored of the plant’s structure, I find myself wanting to photograph it each day.

Banana Fact: because they are derived from a single flower with more than one ovary, bananas — like tomatoes, kiwi, and pomegranates — are berries.

Banana

Banana

The pale yellow flowers begin to fade.

Banana Fact: A banana plant is actually classified as a perennial herb.

Banana

Banana

And all that’s left for me to do is wait for the harvest.  (Notice the smaller male flowers at the bottom of the photo below.)

Banana

Banana

I’m not exactly sure when that harvest will be. All I know is the flower stem will continue to elongate, creating more space between the hands. At some point after that, it will be time to not only remove the fruit, but also the plant itself to make room for the pup that’s already sprouting next to the mother plant.

Banana Fact: Until then, rest assured, I’ll be going bananas.

Sowing The Seeds Of Love


Canna Belgium 2 copy

Again.

Like many of you, I’ve been thinking of Belgium, the residents of Brussels, and those who were struck down by violence.

Again.

And it’s during these moments when I want to stay in my garden, to bury my hands in soil, to tend to chores, to think, to make sense out of something senseless, to contemplate. I think that’s a big reason why Margaret Atwood’s quote from The Handmaid’s Tale resonates with me.

Where would we be without flowers?

So into the garden I went . . .

Brussels

I thought of this small souvenir from Brussels. It belonged to my grandmother for as long as I can remember, one of the tchotchkes on the dresser in my great-grandmother’s bedroom — an odd little metal statue of a small boy urinating.

This is Manneken Pis.

The legend, according to my grandmother, involved a young prince who had gone missing.  His father, the king, swore that if his son were found, he would build a statue to commemorate the moment of his discovery.  And this is how the boy was found.

As a small boy myself, I probably giggled at the story — but that was the story my grandmother told and she was sticking to it.

After the death of my great-grandmother, the small statue stayed where it had always been, on her dresser in her bedroom. When my grandmother sold her house in Queens, NY, and moved to Long Island, Manneken Pis came with her. And after her death, I placed it in a cabinet in my home. It’s now with me in Florida.

When Joe and I visited Brussels about 20 years ago, I was determined to meet the statue with whom I had grown up. On a rainy evening, we found him — a small statue in a tight corner of some twisting streets, still urinating after all these years.  (The umbrella is for the rain — not any other spray!)

Brussels

Although there are many legends surrounding the real statue, one thing is for certain: it’s synonymous not only with Brussels, but with all of Belgium. The real statue is dressed up for various events and has hundreds of outfits — and in recent days, the small boy has helped rally the Belgian people together, his steady stream an indicator of how they feel about terrorism. You can learn more on the CNN website.

According to my father, the souvenir first arrived in my grandmother’s house in the mid- to late-1940s, a gift from two people who’s story is as legendary as that of the statue itself.

During World War II, my grandfather’s cousin was stationed in Belgium, a cook in the kitchen of a US army unit. While there, a young, attractive Belgian woman helped him. They spoke — she told him of her family and their experiences while under Nazi control and of how they were managing as the war rolled to an end. He would pass along food to her so she could feed her family.

Love bloomed in the most hardscrabble of soils. They eventually married, and he brought her to the United States, where they made a life for themselves and raised a family.

As I puttered about the yard, weeding and pruning, it occurred to me: gardening can be hard work.  Being human can be hard work.  Finding the best of times in the worst of times can be hard work.

No matter if it’s an actual garden, a relationship, a community, a nation, a world — there is always work to be done. Seeds need to be sown, plants need our constant attention, and soil needs to be improved.

I know it’s easier said than done, but as gardeners, we must. As human beings, we must. If we don’t, we’ll have a world without flowers . . .

And where would we be without flowers?


Speaking of flowers, where would Belgium be without them?

Brussels

This is a postcard that I purchased while traveling through Belgium all those years ago. It’s an image of the Flower Carpet of Brussels. Every two years, 100 volunteers spend four hours creating the carpet, using thousands and thousands of Begonia Tuberosa Grandiflora.

As chance would have it, the next carpet will be on display this August 12 to 15th — and after recent events, I’m sure the Belgian people will make it all the more special.