Gardening gives a whole new meaning to the idea of prep work, doesn't it? After all, sometimes I feel like a zealot for starting dinner at 2 p.m. Compare that with starting several months ahead of time, and you may start wondering whether or not you have simply gone crazy.
While winter was still blustering away I began day dreaming about my garden. I spent hours perusing heirloom seed shops online, and eventually purchased a nice selection of tomatoes and peppers from My Victory Garden on Etsy. Soon after the seeds arrived, I planted them in tiny paper pots to hatch. Weeks later the tiny sprouts were fighting for their existence by the window of my office. After the frost subsided, I transferred each of them to the tiny backyard garden that my husband had constructed for me.
They died. I may have cried a little.
A couple of weeks later, when I was completely certain that the weather was warm enough, I piled a grocery cart full of replacement seedlings and went back to the garden to give it another go. These little guys have been trucking on ever since. Every morning, Gracie, my dog, and I spend some time in the yard. I weed, water, and inspect. Gracie eats bugs. Teamwork at it's best, am I right?
So here we are, months and months from starting this project off. Years and years from my first attempt at gardening, (Guess how THAT went?) I start to wonder if it was all worth it? All this effort, investment, tears, and mud, and insects… Why do I bother going through this every year? And just when I think of swearing off of gardening forever, I see this,
the cutest little Jalapeno Pepper on Earth, and I remember why I bother.
Things are beginning to thrive in my little patch of Eden. Nothing is ready to be eaten, aside from some random peas, but really, what do you even do with a handful of random peas? Peas? You fail. This is what I'm excited about.
Cherry Tomatoes, prepare to be tossed with pasta, entrapped in green salads, and contorted into adorable finger foods! Soon you will be mine!
Plum Tomatoes, I see stewing, saucing, and salsa in your future. Don't try to run. I know where you live.
Yellow Squash, your lone presence on the smallest plant I have puzzles but delights me. Let's hope you are setting a trend.
Cubanelle Pepper, you pioneer you. You were the first pepper, and you are so close to being pluck-able I can taste it. Way to be proactive.
I always feel like I'm on a safari when I go poking around in the bug bushy wilderness of my vegetable garden. I need to get a big hat and one of those funnel shaped shot guns. Then maybe my plants would take me more seriously.