Not so fast. Did you really think I would just announce the winner of the garden tools/seed embedded products giveaway without some sort of build up? If all of these home/garden/fashion makeover shows can drag on for an hour until the big reveal, I’m sure I can come up with a few hundred words.
Actually, I want to thank everyone who participated by adding their advice. That was, after all, the goal of the giveway — the chance to plant a seed and hope that it would germinate, take root, and grow. Thanks to all of you, there is now a garden of information.
Some of the best gardening advice was instructional: “I ‘plant’ a milk jug beside each tomato plant. Each jug has three small holes in the bottom side, aiming at the tomato plant’s roots. Each jug is filled with water every day – at any time of day – to let the water seep in at the root zone. Keep the caps to keep bugs and debris out of the jugs, but don’t screw them down tight, or you’ll stop the flow of water.” Cindyricksgers
Before I get into the heart of this post, let me get into, well, the heart of this post. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Man blog is turning one today, and I want to thank all of you for helping to make this year inspirational and educational, as well as for joining me on a journey that I never imagined could happen by simply clicking “publish.”
Perhaps the best illustration I can offer is the picture below, and it’s an image that completely astounds me. WordPress recently added this feature to the stats page – a visual depiction of where the readers of this blog live and garden.
This occasion has also brought to mind all of the lessons and tidbits of knowledge that I have picked up over the years. In fact, it’s safe to say that gardeners dispense advice as if it is seeds – casting them about and hoping that one or hundreds will take hold and root and grow.
My earliest advice probably came from my mother. I have very clear memories of being a child and pulling weeds from the yard and then replanting them in the beds of my toy dump trucks – a gardenscape if ever there could be one. Mom’s advice probably went something like this: “Kevin, stop planting weeds in your dump truck.”
My yard backs up against undeveloped woodland – it’s actually the little used rear property of a home around the corner. On my side of the fence, it’s a tame cultivated garden; on the other side, a tangle of trees and vines. Very often, I feel like a frontiersman – forever keeping the savage world from encroaching on my kinder, gentler space.
That’s sort of how I feel about social media. Millions of people long and crave for the unknown delights found in the collection and connection of wires and signals. But each time I look at the various platforms, I feel as if I’m looking over the fence along the back of my property, the one that does its best to distinguish my manicured ¼ acre from the knotted twists of vines that are slowly killing the native trees. Yes, social media is kudzu.