BY ANNIE HUSTON, BIRDSALL & CO.
I come from a long line of hand-watering humans. Growing up in France, vegetable gardening was ubiquitous in every backyard and meant to feed families throughout the seasons. My responsibility from an early age was the watering of said vegetables. Being the lightest in weight I could wander among the plants without compacting the soil. My father, who just passed away at the ripe age of 100, taught me the ins and outs of using a hose or a watering can to conserve water while strengthening roots. Water was a precious resource and should be respected as such. In my childhood home, rain water was conserved in ugly blue barrels strewn all over the neighboring gardens to tend to vegetables and fruit trees in the heat of summer. This method of gathering water would only supplement the creek and its randomly engineered system of hose extensions to meander all the way to the house. “Un sarclage vaut deux arrosages” was the mantra. No real translation is easily available. Basically, you are supposed to disturb the crust of the soil by a few inches with a hoe, thus bringing a fresh layer to the surface; this hoeing would then be worth two waterings. This principle can still be applied to our urban gardens. Water deeply and let the plants struggle to get a stronger root system and find their natural way to sustenance. Frequent and superficial watering only promote weaker plants getting used to a constant and shallow source of water.
While American youths woke up early to deliver newspapers door-to-door on their bicycles, I was expected to take care of the garden before the sun was up and the soil too hot. My all-time record was taking care of 750 leeks. The famous staple of every French kitchen and the very photogenic greenery sticking out of baskets on the way back from the market. Poireaux a la vinaigrette is a wonderful dish and a great alternative to a salad of fresh greens. Unfortunately, unless you cultivate your own leeks, you will not experience the full flavor and tenderness of that recipe – the leeks found in grocery stores are too old, big, and tough for that purpose. Considering it takes a couple of leeks per person for a decent portion, our 750 really didn’t go that far. Besides, you still need to make soups, gratins, quiches, and stock.
The secret to watering vegetables (or perennials, or annual containers) by hand is to take your time. Rushing will result in pressure holes in the soil around the roots, over-watering some areas and under-watering others, or missing some plants altogether. My trick to water the leeks was to go around each twice with a slow trickle. That’s 1,500 circles each day, at 4 seconds each, for a total of 1 hour and 25 minutes. That’s without accounting for the frustrating battles with the hose. And I loved every minute of it. Just like I still love watering my Wash Park garden! I have an irrigation system for both the front and the back yards, for resale value only. Since I removed all the lawn and replaced it with gravel, plantings, fountains and patios, I never turn it on. I do not have a vegetable garden; the squirrels won that battle. However, I cherish all my decorative perennials, shrubs, trees and lots of containers. My bliss is to go home and be one with my plants. Watering by hand gets me in a zone where I naturally get in touch with each and every one of them. I watch them grow, leaf out, and get in full bloom. The lavender provides immediate fragrance as soon as the first drops of water hit them. They get along beautifully with the yellow roses. I listen to the sounds of Wash Park. Geese flying over in the fall, cicadas and crickets after July 15th, hummingbirds, bats after dark, my neighbors’ wind chimes, bored dogs, crows arguing with cats, lawn mowers and the trickle of my fountains. In the evening I move to the front of the house and while I make progress with the watering, I chat with passersby walking their dogs, and neighbors coming back home. My dogs Ethel and Lucy make friends with other four legged animals across the wrought iron fence. There’s a whole community engagement taking place and the irrigation system would prevent that experience from happening. You turn it on while you watch a screen and it does its thing. Instead, I turn the water on and my magic wand brings food to the garden, the dogs are on the lookout for rabbits they will never catch, and my neighbors ask for plant names.
And on top of the front steps sits my glass of champagne. Waiting for me to walk by for another sip.