I planted the first tomato seedling. Took my time patting the dirt probably more than I needed to (or can you ever really pat it enough?) Planting tomatoes in the corner of your new lot right as the sun drops behind the Andes seems downright auspicious, something that calls for some kind of ceremony (a joint?), although like most things that can lead to potentially higher levels of stoke downstream, it’s also a ceremony in itself.

Earlier in the day I’d purchased two cherry tomato and two tomate redondo seedlings as well as two sprigs of basil, all potted in Dixie cups. The Garden of Eden for 5 dollars.

I dug in easily next to the fence with a small plastic backpacking trowel, unearthing worms that twisted  in the dark soil. The ground here in this part of Patagonia is ultra-fertile, layers of volcanic ash from Andes mixed with Pacific maritime precipitation. As Claudio, the remisero (Argentine taxi driver) reminded me yesterday, this place used to be all chacra, or farm..

Having spent the previous couple hours setting up things in the new house (something which sounds better in Spanish–Armando -‘arming’ -la casa), I felt a strange and unprecedented tenderness towards my two new coffee mugs, cutting board, and shower curtain (perhaps also a result of loneliness). The takeaway is that the whole evening I was in a single no-thoughts-just-action mode, although writing about this now I remember on the way out to the side-yard a few mental replays of the chorus from “Gardening at Night” by R.E.M seemed to break into–or perhaps add to–the flow. From Athens, Georgia to Patagonia, Argentina. So much of life seems about closing certain distances while keeping others open.

But back to the coffee mugs and the cutting board: there’s something to be said for re ‘arming’ your life in a new place. The problem is when you’ve done it so many times (putting flowers in the empty wine bottle in the 14th new kitchen  in your life) that you’re no longer asking the right questions. The pertinent question is never why but where followed closely by when.

Since the bus dropped me off two days ago (the streets nearly flooding, the Israelis and everyone else disappearing into remises or into the rain) I’ve found where to buy shower curtain rods and coffee mugs (la papelera). I’ve found where there are good sticks to pick up as you’re walking through Arrayanes on your way to town (packs of street dogs – helps everyone know who’s who).  And I’ve found at least one place and time to plant tomatoes.