ArchivedLogs:Good for Plants

Good for Plants
Winter Wrap-up!
Dramatis Personae Micah, Corey, Melinda, Jackson	16 April 2013 "No easy task to clear the ground, Plant our tiny seeds. With proper care and sunshine, Everyone it feeds."
Location <NYC> Guerrilla Garden - Lower East Side
This abandoned lot isn't much to look at right now. Next door to a construction site and ringed by a tall, rusting chainlink fence, the rumble of large machinery is a constant disruption. Equally rusty signs have been affixed to the fence warning passersby to KEEP OUT, that this is PRIVATE PROPERTY. Weeds are as plentiful as chunks of broken concrete but there is surprisingly little garbage to be found and what does appear seems to disappear just as quickly. Here and there stacks of scavenged truck tires have been filled with dark soil and some enterprising soul has begun to create raised beds to the rear of the lot using splintery wood salvaged from packing crates. What's that? Two gorgeous, sunny days in a row? Could it really and truly be Spring to stay? Micah has taken advantage of the weather to catch a few hours of gardening between work and nightfall. His usual attire of patched jeans and a T-shirt (this one powder blue with a Totoro face on it) is rendered all the more casual by stains of dirt here and there. He has even managed to smudge his forehead by this point... Micah is set up with /so many bags/ of seeds and soil. Raised beds have sprung up all over the garden and most of them are soil filled now. There are a couple awaiting filling from the bags, still. There are a few rakes and trowels and a collection of label-stakes. Several large carwash-type buckets have found themselves filled with water, ready to supply smaller watering cans. Micah seems to be taking a moment to organise himself as he sips from a water bottle. With the text informing him of where and what was going on, Corey was glad to head there, and smart enough to wear attire that wouldn't get any worse for wear. A dark brown tee shirt was tucked into a pair of holey jeans, both liberally covered with grass and mud stairs already. Whistling to himself as he made his way up to the raised beds, a smile crossed his lips as he saw the smudge faced Micah hard at work. "Ho there! Did you leave any work for me? Or have I come too late?" Melinda appears around the end of the chainlink fence around the time she said she would, wearing old jeans and a baseball style tee shirt, with green, three quarter length sleeves and an off white chest and back. Her hair is pulled back in pigtails at the base of her skull, the hair braided and covered up top with a handkerchief. She's got a pair of gloves with her that look more like construction implements than gardening fare, but one uses what one has. She has a bottle of water too, but she's not sipping it as she is already well hydrated and working on depleting that with the cup of coffee in her hand. "Hey, Micah," Mel waves. Corey gets a smile and a wave from Micah as he arrives…which extends to Mel, as well, when she appears moments later! “Hi, folks! Thanks for comin’ out. Glad you could make it. OHgosh, Corey, there is no end of work. We’re at and even /past/ a good start date for several of the direct sowin’ veggies. Prob’ly should’ve started carrots a bit ago already. An’ some of the greens! How much do y’all know about plantin’?” "Well, I know that you're supposed to be mixing together the soil, peat moss, and fertilizer in some particular ratio for ideal planting. And then you put seeds into the ground." Corey ran a currently clean hand through his hair as he looked sheepish. "Honestly, I just put in the seeds, water it, and that’s about it. If it were much more complicated than that, how would it work in nature without all the fancy tillers and chemicals." Nodding a bit, he gave a smile to Mel "Hey there boss lady. Come to join the fun as well?" "And now I feel old." Melinda sips at her coffee like she really needs it before drawing in a deep breath. "I've done some gardening before, but if you've got a way you like to do it, Micah, I'm here to help." She lifts an arm to give the farmer boy a hug before nodding to Corey. "Corey. I'm off the clock now. I'm no one's boss." She takes a final long sip from her cup and looks around. "You guys have done a ton here already." “Most of the soil mixtures’ve been mixed already, yeah. I was mostly just checkin’ to make sure I don’t over-explain things at folks as know already. If y’got your own methods, I’m not one to micromanage. Or manage much at all, honest.” Micah flashes a playful grin at Mel. “An’ you’re not allowed to feel old ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’m older’n the both of you an’ /I’m/ not allowed to feel old. So stoppit.” A hand rakes through his hair so…now there’s dirt there, too. Oh, well. “Got up to the step on the beds what are already filled that they need to be loosened up. Oughtn’t be too bad since they’re recently filled. Just gotta run furrows for the bigger seeds after that. Oh, and one of these bags has sand in it to mix with the littl’uns. Like the carrot seeds. Prob’ly ought to prioritize the carrots. They’re /late/. Runnin’ around like the White Rabbit.” Inclining his head to the comment of being no one's boss, he turned to look back to Micah. "Then just let us know what beds you want carrots in and we'll get started." Gathering up the little claw tools and offering them to the others, he took a glance about the plots. "Should we label them as well? Or just trust to the fact that whoever is tending it recognizes the difference between carrot greens and the rest?" He hadn't really thought of much about mixing sand in with anything, but hey, he could follow the directions. Melinda hangs back when Corey jumps right in on the carrot question, smiling to herself, wrapping her arms across her chest. She's pretty quiet as she turns away to start examining some of the raised beds, squatting down near one and considering the construction. "How long have you guys been working on these? It's kind of like walking into a different world when you step off the sidewalk back here." There's a pause and then, "I guess we don't have to worry about as many rabbits actually getting back here and eating the veggies in the city..." "Man, I been makin' the rounds to get things in order but seems like y'all got this all /covered/." A very cheerful very Southern drawl is making itself known outside the fence; Jackson has a backpack on his back as he slips inside, shiny-bright as usual in a swishy yellow knee-length skirt, a blue-and-white top patterned like clouds, shimmery blue makeup. His hair is very pink, as is his eyepatch. He wiggles glittery-nailed fingers in a wave to Corey, flashes Melinda and Micah bright smiles. "Hi! I, um, have cookies. That's not to help with gardenin'. But I have 'em all the same. -- I'm Jax, by the way." This is to Corey. Just as cheerful. "Carrots...root veggies...need about half-light durin' the day. Worst shade's over toward the construction site, so we can settle greens down that end. Best sun's opposite, so the fruitin' things can go over there...once we get to 'em. Most of those plant a little later, though. So...middle of the road for the carrots." People keep asking questions, so Micah's giving directions despite his protestations of non-management. "Um...they been goin' a few weeks? Were already started when I came along to help build the raised beds." Micah had taken a hand rake, but drops it when Jax appears. So that he can scamper over to the new arrival, obviously. "Hiiii, Jax!" He starts for hugs, realises he's /covered in dirt/, and shifts back with a slightly sheepish look. Nodding back to the fellow in the skirt, Corey transferred his implement of dirt poking to his left hand, and was about to offer a hand to shake but he seems to be about to be pounced by Micah so he holds back. "I'm Corey, nice to meet you, Jax. And cookies help out all sorts of things." Looking back towards the soil that was directed, he nodded and hefted a bag of sand and a pack of carrot seeds. "Like inspiring me to get the work done faster so I deserve ‘em." Melinda is not covered with dirt yet, so she goes in for hugs with Jax with no shame. "Hey honey. Nice to see you - and cookies are always welcome." She pulls away and looks at the beds. "Man, you guys really have done a lot in three weeks too, I think. Maybe. Maybe I'm just excited about gardening because I'm hoping it'll make spring come." She moves to put down her water bottle and coffee cup before slipping on her gloves and resting her hands on her hips. "Point me at something." Jackson accepts ALL the hugs. At ONCE. Dirt or no dirt. He has two arms conveniently for this purpose, and one wraps around Melinda, the other Micah, squeeeeeeezing them both tight. And then giving them both KISSES, albeit admittedly on the forehead (for Micah) and on the cheek (for the taller Melinda.) Only then does he disengage (notably, despite the dirt there is not a /speck/ on his outfit) to offer a handshake to Corey; his handshake is firm, his touch considerably feverishly-warmer than should be healthy. "/Everyone/ deserves cookies, in my book. You basically have to act real terrible to /un/deserve cookies. If there was more hours in my day I'd go deliver cookies to prisons -- /hm/." He looks suddenly thoughtful. "-- You think they'd let me deliver cookies to prisons? Um, not that I'm tryin' to encourage you /not/ to get work done fast. We should get all the work done fast. They're citrus cookies, by the way. Lemon-lime-orange." Yay, there are hugs anyhow! Micah resumes his aborted pounce for Jax-hugs. "Oh, we got little stakes an' some Sharpies for labellin', Corey. Prob'ly best, since there's a lotta cooks in this kitchen. An' the sand is just for...mixin' with the little seeds in your hand, as you sow 'em. Helps disperse 'em so they're better spaced y'don't have to come back and thin the seedlings as much. Keeps the soil loose around 'em, too. Guess you could help with preppin' the soil, Mel? Or labellin' stakes. I'm not sure what sorta things strike your fancy. Really, whatever y'like doin's good." There are /all/ the smiles for Jax. "I have no idea where y'find time for bakin'. You're like a magic sugarperson." Micah finally remembers that he was supposed to be busy, and he collects his dropped hand rake. Shaking his head in mirth at the barrage of words coming out of Jax, Corey shook the man’s hand with a warm smile. He wasn't any warmer than normal, or stronger, but there was just a liveliness from being in his presence that seemed to make things better. "And they would probably have to run them through scanners to make sure that you hadn't hid anything in them." Looking as the others started getting their marching orders, he readjusted the weight of the sand to head over to where the carrots were to be planted. "I'm sure the stuff will grow just fine. Just leave it to us there Micah." Melinda gets a hug and a kiss and is pleased with life. She breaks away when work is suggested again. "Oh, I'm all about getting down in the dirt." There might be a smirk in her voice, even if it's not on her face. "I don't know, Jax, but if you want to make cookies for Helping Hands, I know they'll be appreciated. There is, by no means, a lack people who could use some pastry cheering." She heads over to soil that needs prepping and gets to work with gloved hands. "We could have a cookie making party some time. We haven't done that in a while." Jackson unslings his backpack from his shoulder, opening it to take a large Tupperware container off the pile of things inside and then zip it back up. "I'll make cookies for everyone," he says, cheerfully, and to Micah: "Finding time's easy if you don't sleep! Ain't quite magic, though, I die if I don't get sugar." This is said just as cheerfully as everything else. "Be nice to be /magic/ though. Oh my gosh, there's /three/ of you here can I --" He hesitates, continuing with just a slightly /meeker/ touch to his bubbly enthusiasm -- like maybe this is a /guilty/ question: "Can I just -- /sit/. And like. Not -- do -- work?" His eye is /wide/ at this question. And he is sneaking over to drop his backpack beside the bed and pick up a cultivator /anyway/. "I bet they'd /search/ my cookies, yeah, but they wouldn't find nothin' in 'em but tasty. I got a couple'a prison penpals I think people there really would /love/ some -- hey so how'd you get roped into our terroristgardenin' anyway, hon?" Despite just having met, 'hon' is apparently directed to Corey. “Do I need t’be forcin’ you t’sleep again? How many days s’it been this time?” Micah’s brow furrows at Jax. He gathers a small stack of stakes and a handful of Sharpies, which are subsequently held out to the colourful man. “Y’wanna decorate? That’s an easy thing t’do with your hands while sittin’ an’ relaxin’.” Micah could be implying this is a better idea than the hand rake if Jax is exhausted enough to suggest not working to /begin/ with. “That’uns a /volunteer/,” he says in praising tones, gesturing to Corey. “I mentioned I was gardenin’ an’ he was all over it.” "I'm not sure which one of you talks faster, Micah or Jax." Corey grinned as he started perforating dirt via metal pokey bits. "And I know Micah, and I told him I like to help out. And here I am." Spreading his arms out as if to say Ta Da, he shook his head as he returned to aeration and row making. "No blackmail, or tawdry tales of back alley deals I'm afraid. Though you're welcome to come up with some elaborate story if it helps. Maybe something with money laundering and space stations." "You can also be the official holder of the cookies. Find a nice sunny spot and sit, hun." Melinda continues to break up clumps with her fingers, but she's a little distracted as well. She lets Micah take care of Jackson though. "Corey also works for me at Montagues, but that's mostly coincidental. I didn't know he knew Micah until he got here." She settles onto one hip on the side of the box she's working in, tilling, quietly. She doesn't talk fast at all - well, not right now anyway. "We could have a /fast-talkin'-off/," Jackson says cheerfully, "but I think I'd lose because I'd get /distracted/ um I kinda do things at /lightspeed/ though -- I'm fine," he insists to Micah, "I slept on -- whoa there is no purple here." He is eying the Sharpies like this is perhaps The Biggest travesty. He opens his own backpack -- it has green and blue and black and pink and /gold/ and /silver/ Sharpies but also no purple. FROWN. "Ohmygosh can I draw little /pictures/ of all the plants on their labels -- I /totally/ need more colours for /that/ too though. Maybe like paintmarkers. Hm. You're a /volunteer/?" This earns Corey a /brighter/ smile, and a waggle of the cookie container. Full of citrus cookies. "That earns /double/ cookies." Even though... none of them are getting paid. "I could /totally/ imagine Micah muggin' folks in back alleys to get their cooperation though, he's got that smile that screams -- actually it mostly screams hug me so that's not too tawdry." He glances between Mel and Corey, crinkling his nose up, amused. "Small world. You want cookies, Mel? Can /I/ work for you at Montagues, I think it'd help my coffee budget like whoa." "I do tend to get accused of overrunnin' my mouth," Micah admits with a giggle. "Folks up here talk faster'n home, though! So I can't be that bad." He sets in to working the soil on the opposite end of the raised bed from Corey, because those carrots need to be planted /yesterday/. There is tilling and planting and cookie-ing and talking. Because they say that talking is good for plants. Also for spring evenings with friends.