RICK CASTRO: DIARY- 5/3/2020

So This Is How The World Will End: by Rick Castro 5/3/2020

I finally did it! I planted my garden.

It’s small on purpose. I wanted it to be manageable and something that wouldn’t overwhelm me, a city boy trying his luck at being an off-grid survivalist. 

The reality is my fantasy may soon come to an end. If all goes as planned the “lockdown,” “quarantine”,“stay at home safer” era is coming to an end. In two weeks it will be over. Then what the fuck are we supposed to do? Act like it never happened and go back to our lives like, Girl Interrupted. People like me are hand-to-mouth, we create our jobs and income as we go. It's a day to day process. There is nothing to go back to. I don’t have a structure that says, “Ok, you were gone for a spell, now here is everything right where you left it.” 

So to retaliate I planted a garden. Tomorrow morning I will decide what seeds to actually plant. My choices are; tomato, artichoke, beets, Brussels sprouts, onions or sunflowers… maybe a combo of all. I also have seeds for lemons, oranges, and avocado. 
Those will take more commitment. 

This morning I buried my own compost, on top small wood pieces as instructed by, How to Make a Hügelkultur Garden, (raised garden) then a layer of elm leaf dirt, to which I will lay the seeds. I  built a flimsy chicken-wired circle with an even flimsier cross-hatched trellis roof. I chose the location under my father’s Chinese elm tree, the largest and oldest on the property.  I remember planting with me father circa 1970. I’ve come to adore this area. The elm is wide and branches hang low to the ground, all bright green and full this time of year. The shade and tranquility he, (the tree) provides is incomparable. I’ve taken found logs, branches and wooden stakes to lift low branches to create even more of an umbrella of shade from the grand elm.

Two weeks is not enough time to see my garden become anything more than food for the many indigenous bunnies. If I go back to LA on May,16 the garden will perish. 

For the first time my sister called me. Because I was angry she’d previously hadn’t returned my calls, I didn’t answer. She immediately texted asking if I was still at the cabin or did I go back to my apartment in Hollywood. Oblivious to the messages I’d sent for the last two months about fleeing Hollywood, thinking I had contracted the plague, worrying about loosing my apartment. All she wanted to know is if I was still here. She then texted that her and the new Christian-cult husband were thinking of driving up for the day or overnight, but he was worried about her going out in public, since she’s susceptible. I texted I agreed, with her asthma history it wasn't safe. 
She responded, not only that but her COPD diagnosis of last year when she had pneumonia
made them even more fearful. What she was passive/aggressively try to find out is; are you still there? Let me know when you leave so my husband and I can come out. 

I’m sure he can’t wait to trim and chop down my beautiful trees, which is what they were planning on doing before the plague.

Tonight the howling winds are so strong, I won’t be surprised if my little make-shift garden is blown away. The high desert winds, local bunnies, and my cult-christian brother-in-law are allot to contend with.

So this is how the world will end.

copyright- rick castro- 5/2020

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