Earth lessons

Every year in late July, I am reminded of my Dad. He has been gone 12 years now and though I think of him often, late-July is when he seems to be with me the most. The reason? Tomatoes. My Dad grew great tomatoes. They were everything a tomato should be: red, juicy, sweet, the heat of the sun in the scent of the fruit. We ate them every night growing up until the frost hit.

My parents both grew up on farms—Mom on a Southern California dairy farm and Dad on a St. Helena vineyard. When Mom was born, a cow was set aside for her. Dad learned to drive a tractor when his father bought one after the mule died. Dad already knew a lot about agriculture when he went to Cal Poly for college.

As my brothers and I were forced to work in the garden, we learned the value of using land well. We learned from Dad about rotating crops, beneficial insects, and conservation before they became part of popular culture. When Dad retired, he tried new gardening methods to get healthier fruit and earlier tomatoes. He taught me the value of learning by improving himself and using new ideas every season. He taught me the value of the earth.

When the grandkids arrived, they sat in the garden with Dad, first as toddlers and then as school-age kids. He'd munch on a vegetable and ask the kid, "You don't want any of this, do you?" Without fail, the kid wanted the carrot, bean, tomato, plum, walnut or radish that my Dad seemed to reluctantly offer. Dad's grandkids were the only toddlers I knew who ate fresh veggies with no complaint.

My mom now has a garden that surpasses anything Dad had imagined. His gardens were kind of messy, yet functional, with leggy vines and weeds. Mom's is neat, tidy and colorful. She has incorporated flowers into her garden.

Mom has taken Dad's garden and translated it into a showplace. Not only does she have tomatoes before July 4, she has eggplant, peppers and cucumbers too. Her melons are the talk of the family. We fight over cantaloupes and watermelons, all of us planning a visit just to get the spoils of her harvest. When she arrives at my door with a box, I always hope for a melon. Talking on the phone, I get the daily melon update.

The brothers and I keep gardens also. Three raised beds and a pluot tree make up my city garden. I also have pots of dwarf lemon and lime trees, flowers, roses, herbs. I learned it all from Dad and continue to reap the benefits of Mom's harvest.

Incorporating these lessons into what I teach makes teaching all that more enjoyable. I have worked on a school-wide garden, used a grow lab in the classroom and done many other activities that directly relate to what I learned from Dad. I want students to see the value of keeping the earth healthy and understand their connection to it. Gardens are always a great teaching tool.

Gardening and good soil are my family's legacy. Mom is planning on expanding her garden to include more pomegranates and lavender, building a business around these popular plants. I know she can do it. She's in her mid-seventies, and the earth is in her blood.