Ready to Get Dirty
So we have everything we need for that veggie garden I was talking about. Tomorrow is the day, and I’ll drag the husband and the toddler outside to get dirty along with me to build the bed. I promise to take pictures for proof of the labor. If it looks good in a couple of months, I’ll take pictures of that too, but if I kill everything, you won’t get to see the carnage. I just hope the mostly western sunlight doesn’t fry everything later in the summer. I’ll just make up some really good excuses as to why I have no pictures of the fabulously lush garden I was hoping for. I have begun the seeds on our side yard in peat pots, so I’ll know in another week if things are on schedule with planting (I think I may actually be about two weeks behind when I was supposed to plant seeds). There again, much hope for success.
I can’t help but think of the Victory Gardens during WWII, and how my grandmother at 88 years, still insists on picking cucumbers from her garden (primarily maintained by her neighbor) on her own. I never knew my grandparents to not have a garden. Only in the last ten years since my grandfather died did it begin to shrink in size. They always had corn, zucchinis, cucumbers, tomatoes, various peppers, blackberries, grapes, raspberries, and an apple tree. My memories of summer trips to Ohio are made of rhubarb pies, grape pies, fresh cucumber salads, and sliced tomatoes still warm from the garden with a pinch of salt.
The flower seeds are still germinating and peeking through the topsoil. The verbena is growing larger, the morning glories are close to climbing the trellises, and the foxglove is showing it’s tiny green buds. The zinnias I planted in the front flowerbeds are popping out, and before long will be a profusion of color for the neighborhood. The red poppies haven’t germinated yet, but I believe they had a longer germ period than the zinnias.Anyway, I’m sure we will have plenty to keep us dirty and busy tomorrow.