Gardening with my Centro as a way of getting in touch with my roots

[From Brent, New England] My whole childhood, though in the protective guise of neighborhoods, my parents and grandparents always taught me aspects of how to farm. "Garden" would be the more apt term, as we never really had chickens or pigs - some relatives way out in the sticks did. But those were once or twice-a-year visits, and for only a portion of a Sunday. Most of that day being spent listening to, "Don't get your shoes dirty...", and "we're leaving soon!".

I didn't realize how much I missed all that childhood gardening as relaxation, as a connection, until I got a job transfer. I went from college in sunny, salt-air Savannah Georgia where anything would grow, to Rhode Island. Small, but not a state with the distinction as the smallest. Instead, they just generically called it the 'Ocean State'. But as Ocean makes me think of Beach - I quickly noticed...their rocky jags were nothing like the sandy beaches down south. Worse still, was the seeming 10-months of winter I slogged through, a few short months after I arrived. I buried myself in work, long hours spent at a jewelry bench indoors, during the best hours of the day. There wasn't much to do, despite having a building full of computers - they were all amber-screened UNIX dumb terminals for inventory and job keying. Not knowing the area, there wasn't even the promise of a great lunch around the corner.

I ended up being one of the first people I knew with a mobile phone that did more than make calls. At first, it was just to keep in touch with my parents, message my friends, and to try browsing the web while on lunch. Before long I was finding new places to eat each day while I had a few minutes of down time, and saving little notes on what items were best at each place. I started keeping a little list of my genealogical history. Then it became a spreadsheet. Before long, I had come to rely on my newest pocket computer as a checks-and-balances system for my life. My appointments are no longer in a notebook on the back seat of the car. My ideas, instead of scrawled on scraps of paper destined for the washing machine, now get drawn to the compact screen of my Palm Centro. And a full blown, hand-built database gives me some peace. I can see that April 7th is my "Last Frost Date" according to the U.S. hardiness zone map. I keep track of the little seeds I've planted, and reflect back. I know how long it seemed to take when I was a kid to wait for a whole tomato to grow, for melons to come in. But now - it stares me right in the face. 85 days. 90 days. It seems like a lifetime, even now, as the sprouts sitting in trays on my radiator start reaching higher. I quickly hop on the web while standing in the line at work, waiting for a microwave. I can't wait 85 days, I think. I hit a few of my bookmarks that I keep in sync with my desktop computer. Sure enough. That Kitazawa seed catalog. Oldest seed company in the United States I heard. Started browsing - sure enough. Solar Yellow. Number 311. Even sounds lucky. I can have carrots in 63 days. Okra in 49. Maybe not what I was planning to plant, but what healthier jaunt to take on your lunch break? And even though I can't do four-column math like my granddad, or tell you off the top of my head when the next moon cycle is - I have them with me - the knowledge and the good habits of my family, encouraging me into the next growing season. Maybe this year I'll order a greenhouse. Hey - Costco has one on sale for $499.00. Wonder when we get our bonus checks this year? Let me check...