A Connoisseur of Dirt

No, I heard myself say, the garden store down the street doesn't have the kind of dirt I want.

No, not the black topsoil (with organic sheep's manure added), not the special blend for hanging pots & containers (with peat moss & vermiculite added), not the kind for growing roses (Ph balanced, pre-fertilized with rooting compound, & augmented with slow-release crevette~based compost), and not the kind for growing African Violets (unknown composition, available at the Dollar Store).

No, I just want the kind that's dehydrated and vacuum~packed so as to fit more dirt per cubic inch, thus saving me the hassle of buying two at a time, and providing me with more bang for my bag.

The kind of dirt you'd find at either Wal-Mart or Ikea.

Only, at Ikea, it would be called Smuts.

~ ~ ~

Contrary to the expression, dirt is not cheap. The cost of dirt is up from last year, and the several bags I've purchased have shown an unpredictable weekly variance in price, much like gas at the pumps. I'm beginning to suspect the price of soil is linked to the fortunes of real estate market.

...which brings me to the odd thought: Where does that dirt come from?

Do they strip~mine it from somewhere? Is it a by~product of the construction & mining industries? Do we cart it in from other, less fortunate countries whose unscrupulous governments are selling the dirt out from under their citizen's collective feet?

Somewhere, is there a nascent dawn a~blushing over vast fields where the air is heavy with the musky scent of moist sweet earth, as humongous oak~barrel~brown compost piles steam off the dew to a transient golden haze, organic matter breaking down into dirt at their thermogenetic cores?

Bulwer~Lytton, eat your heart out.

~ ~ ~

Dirt farmer, according to the dictionary definition, means a farmer who earns his living by farming his own land especially without the help of hired hands or tenants.

During the 1930's Dust Bowl catastrophe, the term dirt farmer was given a wry edge, as some joked that dirt was their major crop.

"Some of the dirt was red; connoisseurs recognized that as emanating from Oklahoma. Other dust was yellow, some other colors. Before long, people could tell what part of the Great Plains was sailing past that day, for the winds came from the north, bringing Montana or the Dakotas with them, or the south, bringing a different assortment of soils with each change of wind."

~ ~ ~

Imagine, if vast fields of compost heaps were possible (straw~capped & sacking~secured, of course, to prevent bits of matter from blowing off like chaff). Dirt farming, in a literal sense, could be a marvelous 21st century vocation. While others would use dirt to grow plant matter, the Dirt Farmer would use plant matter to grow good, fresh, nutritious, wholesome dirt.

It would bring a new meaning to having a brown thumb.

And, if the price of dirt is any indication, it might be quite a profitable cottage industry.

~ ~ ~

My mum always said that she wasn't gifted with a green thumb, but that she learned everything she knows by trial and error; and that she's made enough mistakes to get by.

In addition to making her own soap, knitting her own woolens, putting up her own preserves, and composting before it was fasionable, my mum also mixes up her own dirt.

She starts with soil from the backyard, and sterilizes it by cooking it on the stove (and let me tell you, burnt dirt smells sharp).

After it has cooled, she fortifies it with a proportion of nutrient~rich newborn dirt from the heart of the compost pile.

Because roots need space, peat moss is included to decrease the density of the mix so the dirt does not compact; peat moss also gives the added benefit of retaining moisture. Vermiculite is added to further lighten the weight.

My Mum has very happy plants.

~ ~ ~

Did people of my Mum's generation complain when dirt became commodified, in the same way that people nowadays complain about the commodification of water?

In both cases, I suppose what you're paying for is the labour & materials involved in making it hostile~bacteria~free, and amenable to one's mineral needs.

But, compared to water, dirt is relatively much easier to create from "scratch". And it's easy to mix your own special blends. The hard part is finding room for the composter. And suffering the smell of scorched earth...

~ ~ ~

My needs are satisfied, for the time being, by generic cheap dirt.

But if I ever have the room for a composter... I'll be brewing my own dirt the way vintners brew wines.

Ah... chateau la terre '03 ... do I detect the aroma of banana peels, carrot scrapings and coffee grounds? And the fragile note of egg shells? ...yeeeees ...a very good blend, a memorable year.

Posted by edgar at May 24, 2003 03:35 PM