replanting

This week, Drew and I uprooted all of our plants in the garden, added loads of compost and manure to the soil, and replanted. Our plants were turning a yellow hue, which according to the internet could be a result of at least 2 things: 1) overwatering or 2) lack of nutrients. We're assuming that it's both, so we amended the soil and replanted all of our plants. And we're going to go easy on the watering.

We didn't scrap the plants and start over, so I guess you could say we were doing some revising, reframing, and rethinking. This has become a common theme in my life, as I am currently doing the same thing to my dissertation prospectus. I'm told that this stuff happens all the time and that it's part of the whole process. Damn that pesky p word.

When we finished up in the garden yesterday, we looked around at our work, shrugged our shoulders and said "well, at least we tried," meaning that if our plants die now, we can't say that we didn't try to save them. And then we both laughed because while this philosophy might work for plants, it shouldn't be applied to say, raising children.

on picking a dissertation topic

Picking a dissertation topic is often compared to picking a life partner, and well, I can see how this is true. It's recommended that you pick a topic you feel passionate and excited about because you're going to be spending an awful lot of time together.

But here's the catch: when picking a dissertation topic, you can't dawdle (some would say the same about picking a life partner). The reality is that it feels like picking a dissertation topic and then actually doing it is like the equivalent of telling someone that they have to get married by the time they are 30. It may be okay if you're 31 or 32, but above all, you don't want to be a 33 year old spinster.

In a similar vein, the message I get from my department is that finishing your Ph.D. in 5 years is ideal. Okay, you can take 6 or 7 years, but you don't want to be an 8th year dissertation spinster. I don't know what happens in your 9th+ years. Maybe you fall into dissertation purgatory. That is, if you haven't already.

Call me a late bloomer, but here I am nearing the end of my 5th year, still searching for a dissertation topic. I dated around a lot, trying out different topics. At the end of fall quarter, I thought I'd found the One, but it proved to be unruly and I just couldn't make it work. We parted ways (amicably of course), and I headed in a different direction. In winter quarter, I mistakenly thought I'd found the One again. This time, I tried really hard to make it work with topic #2, but to no avail. It was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. It was a difficult break up, but I finally said good bye in the beginning of the spring quarter. In the end, we wanted different things, we were beginning to drift apart, and I was losing sight of what was really important to me. I found it difficult to move on, but I got back out there and started playing the field again.

I went back to an ex, a topic I'd toyed around with last fall. I think it's going to be different this time around. I'm not going to be so quick to throw in the towel, and I'll try not to be so controlling this time. I'll let my dissertation topic run its course and be who it wants to be. I'll be there to guide it along, but I'll let it take whatever shape it wants to take. But it had better move quickly. After all, the dissertation clock is ticking.

lessons from gardening

We are currently in the process of killing tomato plants, and there is something funky on some of our pepper plants. It looks like dirt, but it doesn't rub off. Gardening is certainly a learning process. Here are some things I've picked up:

1. Don't leave compost in your trunk. When you get home, unload it from your trunk. You might be feeling lazy because you have brought home many bags full of groceries and other things, but trust me, unload the compost. Otherwise, your car will emit an odor reminiscent of driving through farm country in Minnesota on the way to your grandparents' house. This isn't a particularly bad odor, but it's not pleasant.

2. When growing herbs in a container, it is not necessary to dump the whole seed packet into one container.

3. I can't think of a third lesson, but a list of 3 sounds better than a list of 2.

marmalade and seedlings

Drew and I spent Easter last weekend visiting my Oceanside family. In addition to bringing home gardening tips, we also brought home some meyer lemons. I used most of them to make lemon rosemary bars, and I used the rest to make marmalade. I went to the farmers market to pick up a grapefruit and 2 oranges to round out my 3 citrus marmalade.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the marmalade, but I keep eating it and Drew enjoys it. When I was at the farmers market yesterday, I saw a vendor selling tomatoes, so salsa may be the next canning project.

The gardening is still, well, going. We went to water it today, and the first thing Drew said was "well, we didn't kill anything." Clearly, we have set a low bar here. Our tomato plant isn't looking too good, but our peppers are still alive. We planted sage, basil, and mint last weekend and snap beans today.

A couple weeks ago, I started sowing tomato seeds and eggplant seeds inside. It shouldn't be long until we can plant them outside.

on copyediting

My dear friend is this close to finishing a revision of her dissertation and defending it. This weekend I proofread two chapters and did my best to copyedit them. Usually when I read other people's work, I'm reading it for content and so I can provide feedback, not for copyediting purposes. And thank goodness for that, because it would way too difficult to read for content and copyedit at the same time.

This experience left me with a newfound respect for my advisor. How on earth does she read my work in order to provide feedback and copyedit it at the same time? Bless her soul.