It would be a fair assessment to claim that around half of my job takes place at my Mother’s kitchen table. A slightly more surprising claim would be that the significantly smaller portion of my job is actually spent outside, in the nursery, mostly standing and looking at things (it is all about balance, after all).
This particular kitchen table is where much of the unseen magic takes place. Much to Mom’s chagrin, it spends very little time completely cleared. You see, this particular table-top holds all of our most serious business meetings. A pad of paper and rough sketches, sticky notes tacked to surfaces, files rotating through seasonally, all finding a home on the kitchen table.
No fewer than two devices at a time, with several tabs open, and a variety of browser searches answering questions. Arrows and half-notated thoughts cover each corner of whatever poor sheet got left behind. A discarded envelope might hold a handwritten message reminder left from a phone call. Research, development, and implementation typically begin in those chairs.
Much to my Mother’s disbelief, both my Father and I do have multiple desks and various offices; however, I find that we do our best collaborating over a meal. My siblings and husband are all well aware that each meal, break, snack, and family dinner is at risk for becoming a full-blown impromptu business meeting. Everyone gets to voice their opinions, possible flaws, and ideas; it is how the entirety of The Garden Corner goes around.
I was once asked if I talked about anything other than work. The honest answer was not really. There is always a new idea, season, parade, event, or problem to figure out. And nothing in life is quite as satisfying as planning out and overcoming a project.
There is one, quite large, idea that started at the same kitchen table, well before my official time with the nursery began. This objective started as a passing thought, melded into a little late-night googling, and finally transformed into a rough sketch. Then the dream was shared. Over a meal (I think it was breakfast) at the kitchen table, something quite fun, new, and exciting.
From there, the thought grew. It grew and grew into a prototype, a contraption that was beyond current possibilities. Out of the warehouse it came, only to be sent back with the instructions, “Make it bigger!” After nine months of planning and plotting, a simple scheme birthed the one and only World’s Largest Hanging Basket. The basket has been on display since its original unveiling in the Spring of 2012. That is, until this fall.
The World’s Largest Hanging Basket has been under repair since the end of August. During an ordinary change of seasons, minor repairs were found necessary. Like any project, the more we fixed, the more problems arose. Evenings were spent at the kitchen table. Sketched solutions, researched parts, and problem-solving over hot chocolates. Ideas bounced around; it felt like a personal challenge. If creation was J-Doggs’s mountain to climb, repairs and strategic thinking have been mine.
Through all of the brainstorms and tests this project has thrown at me, I have faced one major question. How can I possibly make what is already great even better? Well, I have good news: there is a light at the end of the tunnel. After ages of waiting, it has all arrived, and assembly is finally within reach. I have to admit, these pieces are all coming together at just the right time. Spring Grand Unveiling is right around the corner.
The empty void left by the unattended space left an impression on me. What this has taught me is that plants are not just about function, but the experience of a garden. Finally, after all of that thinking (at the kitchen table), we can seriously get started on creating the right basket and a successful new year. If there is anything we can expect from this year, it will certainly be a Circus.
