Elise Hanks

I grow flowers for a living. On a teensy, tiny piece of land once abandoned by the owner and seized by the city for unpaid taxes. 

In the hot days of Summer the whole place emits a lively, green haze in the mostly hard,  cement neighborhood. It’s nice. 

I am a workaholic. I always have been. But it’s fitting because farming is an all consuming gig. It takes over your mind unlike anything else…the what ifs, the what if nots, the weather, the weeds, it all collects in your brain like a big cloud of anxiety unless you can learn how to manage it. Which I haven’t yet. 

I’m addicted to the moments when things go right. When the crops written on little sticky notes on my giant planting calendar actually succeed (not eaten by insects, flooded by rain, or stolen by curious passerby.) I’ll say it, these moments bring me pure, unadulterated satisfaction.

But today, on the last Sunday of July, I’m forcing myself to take the day off (away from the farm that is.) It’s been a long, hot week and my body needs to recover. The people in my life tell me I need to learn to relax. To luxuriate in a day off from “work.” I think they will never really understand the feverish nature of farming. (Hello! One day off can mean total disaster.) 

But how could they? Addiction is a strange and unknowable beast. I try to forgive them. 

I water and prune my house plants instead.

A ruse to appear as if I’m a normal person who can take a normal day off, but secretly it soothes my incessant need to care for the green stuff around me. 

But I took some care for my body today too - getting out to ride my bike for the first time in months. It feels good to use my body in a different and challenging way. Unlike the now familiar movements of lifting heavy buckets or stretching across flower beds to cut that perfect stem.

I also spent some quality time with my cat. Who has 3 suspicious lumps on her belly which the vet says need to be surgically removed. I try not to stress about this impending procedure, although I do not succeed. 

Instead, I lie down on my bed looking out at the tree in front of my house. Enjoying the soft sway of leaves in a welcome cool breeze…and wishing I could prune the branch just outside my window.

Elise enjoys listening to bird songs in her earbuds while she rides the El and recently taught herself the art of parallel parking. (Find her flower farming in the city at @terralunaherbals)