Interview with Adina, The Imperfect Gardener

Over the past month I’ve been corresponding with Adina Sara, The Imperfect Gardener. Enjoy! And remember to check out one of her readings. Info below.

Q: How did you got involved in garden writing. The collection of
stories in your new book seem like they were created at various times across many years. Did that process of writing lead you to the Macarther Metro column?

A: When I was asked by Metro editor Toni Locke to write a feature
garden column for the Metro back in 2001, it was a perfect opportunity
to blend my 2 favorite activities – gardening and writing. The previous
garden columnist was leaving, and I explained to Toni that unlike my
predecessor, I was not a garden expert by any stretch. I had been
digging and poking and experimenting for years in my temperamental
landscape, and it seemed like every step forward brought me several
steps backwards in my gardening plans. I assured her this would not be
a “how to” garden column, but rather an attempt to share my own
gardening experiences with readers. She was happy with that.

My garden memoir grew out of the garden columns. At some point I
realized that the evolution of my garden closely paralleled events in my
life, and so I expanded on the spirit of the Imperfect Gardener column,
adding personal details that were not appropriate for a newspaper. I
had learned so many important lessons in the process of gardening, and I felt they were worth sharing with gardeners as well as non-gardeners.


Q: With your column and garden exchanges, you've been an influential
member of the local gardening community for awhile now. How do you see your book influencing a larger community?


A: I am always a bit amused when people ask me gardening advice
because I write a garden column. I was recently invited to join a round
table discussion of garden experts on KQED Forum that included the
garden editor of Sunset Magazine and a local chapter president of the
Native Plant Society. Despite the fact that in my column and book, I
confess to gardening mishaps, surprises and accidental discoveries,
people still think that because I write about gardening, I must be able
to give advice. My best advice is to not take my advice but rather, go
out and discover your own relationship to your garden. If my writing
exerts any influence on others, I would hope it would be to embrace
mistakes, don't be afraid of trying something that intrigues you, observe the successes and failures with equal appreciation, and find joy in the process as much as the outcome. Gardening is a never-ending adventure. After over 25 years, I can still proudly say I am not an expert and likely never will be. Rather, I approach my garden as an explorer and adventurer, and hope that by example, I influence others do to the same.

Q: In your book, you show the beauty of weedy plants, debris, and
imperfection. I'm curious if there are any aspects of your garden that
still grate on your nerves. Ones that beg for your attention to be
changed.

A: My pathways. Always strewn with bamboo fronds, broken bits of
flowers, spots where the tiny pebbles wore away to expose the dirt
beneath, leaving uneven, messy surfaces. I’ve always admired the
alternative – expensive hardscapes of stone, tile, clean gorgeous
surfaces on which to walk while passing through planting beds. Though
the look tempts me, I either can’t afford it, or fear that it will make
my garden feel like a showroom. Finding that balance between orderly
and wild is what baffles me most about gardening. Everything is in
bloom right now, the roses and iris are peaking and nasturtium bloom in every corner, but when I walk through the garden, I still get upset
about the leaf-strewn weedy pathways. It reminds me how easy it is to
focus on the negative, when the positive is everywhere – another of
gardening’s great lessons.


Q: Are there any new plants that you are looking forward to trying this
season? Are there any regular plant guests that you are looking forward
to seeing again?

A: I've been working on my spring vegetable garden, so of course
I'm looking forward to watching everything ripen and hopefully enjoy the bounty throughout the summer and fall. I'm trying out cantaloupe for the first time and plan to train it upward. Also trying some yellow sweet peppers that I've never grown before. I planted and will always plant sun gold tomatoes - there's just nothing like them - delicious, plentiful and seemingly foolproof. And blue lake beans, though the scarlet runners are more spectacular in appearance, I prefer to eat the
blue lakes. I moved the tarragon (my favorite herb) for the third time
in three years. It's a perennial, but it seems finicky. Hasn't found
its perfect home yet, tucked inside the lettuce bed. I'm hoping it will
thrive in this new spot. If not, there's always next year.

How lucky we are to have so many choices year after year - I only wish I
was as lucky in the harvest stage as with planting selections. I've
filled the beds with compost and all systems are go - but still, some
years the food may be plentiful but flavorless, and other years just a
couple of morsels manage to make their way to the table but they are
succulent and delicious and all the more valuable for their scarcity.
There are so many variables to successful vegetable gardening - and the
best thing is that every year we start with a clean slate and fresh hope
for next year's bounty.


Q: With our Mediterranean environment in the bay area, we have the
opportunity to garden all year long. It's both a blessing and a
challenge. I still have yet to master winter vegetable gardening. What
have your experiences been with this abundance of gardening time?


I harvested 2 beets and had them for dinner last night. I don't even
want to tell you how small they were. I'd never brag about my beet
growing skills, but what pleasure I had eating those two tiny samples.
Worms tend to eat more of my winter garden than I do, but if I can get a few well-shaped brussel sprouts, or carrots large enough to slice into a salad, I’m delighted. I try not to put pressure on myself to harvest successes all year round, even though we are lucky enough to have that choice. Most of us have to juggle our work lives, personal lives, and everything-in-between along with the never ending duties that our gardens present us with. My gardening moods do not necessarily
correspond with the dictates of the seasons. I may get a flurry of gardening energy in the winter, cutting back and digging and reshaping planting beds when there isn’t that much growing, and nothing in need of immediate attention. And come summer, when there’s everything to do, I may just feel like bringing out a good book and something cold to drink and enjoy the shade of my overgrown plantings. Some work is necessary to prevent disasters, and certainly successful vegetable gardening requires timely and dedicated attention. But I try not to look at my garden as an arduous year-long “to do” list, but rather as place that periodically invites my attention and affection, so I have no choice but to respond.


Q: I'd like to finish up the interview with asking you if there is
anything else you'd like to say about your book, upcoming readings, or
gardening.

A: Since my book came out, I find that people are asking me for
gardening advice. I recently appeared on a radio program with a few
garden experts and people were calling in wanting to know what to plant and what to dig up, and how to ‘attack’ a variety of pests. So many people seem intimidated by their gardens, afraid they might do something wrong if they don’t get proper information. For me, the garden is a personal relationship. It grows and changes every day, and every day I stumble on new frustrations (black bugs in the kale); surprises (two new artichokes just appeared) and almost constant wonder. What thrives in my garden may not be happy in yours, and though you may love your prize-winning rhododendron, I have never been a fan of that particular plant. The only advice I would ever give is to live in your garden – watch it unfold – notice who else lives there - try everything that intrigues you and enjoy the failures as much as the successes. Anyone who spends time in their garden, and allows the constantly evolving landscape to become an important part of their lives, is an expert.

I look forward to sharing my garden’s stories at the Laurel Book Store
on Thursday, May 21 at 7:00 pm, at the Montclair Great Good Place for
Books on June 19 at 7:00 p.m., and at Orchard Nursery in Lafayette on
June 25.