This Week Has Freaked Me Out

I picked the first substantial amount of veggies, and dropped them off with Foti and Steve, two neighbors of the garden. Okra, squash, and peppers. And then Dulaney Wood, a friend from Lexington First who has freaked out and put a huge garden in at Andover for us, came by with the first tomatoes. Carlotta grabbed one quickly, and pronounced it good.

Dulaney and I went up to the garden. It’s neat—I’m a military brat, and so I don’t know a lot of people long-term. But Dulaney and a lot of the folks in his Sunday School class, I’ve known them for 10 years or more. So it was really special to stand there in the garden with Dulaney, plotting this weird ministry that both is and is not about vegetables.

I have to tell you about this. Yesterday, I finally got back in contact with Sherri. She is a woman in a rock band I met maybe 6 or 8 months ago. We talked about things, about her hang-ups with church, but didn’t have a lot of time, so we agreed we’d talk later. I saw her on her porch as I was walking down 12^th Street (where I was trying to get Jackie White saved, and folks, it just ain’t gonna happen. That girl is a mess. And her old man… sheesh…)

Well, we never got to her hang ups with church. We ended up talking about some personal stuff. Wow, I was blown away that she would trust me. But that’s not the half of it. I was playing with her daughter and her doll (I ain’t too proud.) I told her about the garden, and she was really pumped up to think we might bring her some good stuff. She said she was having a vegetarian dinner—on the grill, potatoes, peppers, corn—would I like to stay for dinner with her family? Not bad. I guess she figures if Laura, Jessica, and Seble think I am ok, maybe I am ok…

As I was leaving, we get to talking about her music. She knows all kinds of bands, and I think maybe she can hook us up with some good music on Friday evenings. She plays drums. I asked her, “would you like to play in a praise band?” She looked at me funny, like, “you’d let me?” I figure if Iron Maiden’s drummer could get saved by playing in a church band, who knows. She handed me her card: it’s a wild, colorful thing, with her wailing on the drums, hair flying. Looks like she could give Meg White a run for her money! Has her name and phone number, and a priceless slogan that, honestly, I am glad she knew she could give to me: “Chick Drummer With Balls!”

But wait, my freaked out life gets better. Three guys show up at the church this afternoon. They represent a growing coalition of community gardeners. They heard about what we are doing at Third Street Stuff, a coffee house 7 or 8 blocks down Lime. We spent some time riffing on outrageous ideas for community gardens. A realtor told one of the guys he could have 15 vacant lots. We just need the manpower. We talked Farmer’s Market right here at the Rock, we talked food access Northside vs. Southside, we talked setting up small businesses to market fresh, local produce to some of the upscale restaurants, and we talked about what one guy called “gardens of eatin’” at houses of worship. They are setting up a garden tour of various community gardens to get us all hooked up and let people and government know what we’re up to and the positive benefits of the work. I took them up to the garden behind the school, and they were blown away by the size. I said, “you need to check out the garden on Price Ave, it’s at least as big. And First Church has one easily twice as big, and they are giving the produce to us.” I had just come back from First’s garden when my three visitors (how appropriate!) showed up.

It was a total God-thing for these guys to show up. I dropped everything to give a tour and talk about the weird vision I have that I generally do not tell anyone else about. One of the guys is a community activist, one works at UK, the other is a teacher at Bryan Station High School. It’s fixin’ to bust loose.