I can actually hear that giant expanse of prepared soil outside begging me to plant, plant, plant. I hear it. It has a kinda whiny voice. That could be my own voice in my brain I imagine.
My mom and I made our annual excursion to Lancaster last week with hopes of buying plants for our garden at a deal.
We took Clare with us, making it a authentic "girls-day". We took off early, but not early enough after dropping off Clark and making sure that the van was oiled up. We made it, but dilly-dailled much too long second guessing our wagons wondering if we got enough.
Clare was excellent, understanding of our wonderings, and happy to make runs to the wagon, arms full of plants. With the weather warm, the excitement was tangible, everyone eager to get home and sink a shovel in the dirt.
I surprised a fellow gardener as I held the Habanero 6-pack in my hands, he warned, "Hottest pepper in the world, dear." I said, "I know, sir, just wondering if I'd like Habanero, red or green for my garden this year...but if I come home without any, my husband will be unhappy!" He looked at me with surprise as I explained to him that we jar our own salsa and it has to be spicy.
Each year is an experiment for me. Anticipating what will grow well, what will the groundhog eat, what will get a plight, etc. I am banking on another good tomato crop. We've never had success with the cucumbers, thanks to the groundhog that lives under the shed. I've already caught a glimpse of him and he is huge and definitely spoiled. This year I am devoting some space to a "cutting garden" so I can decorate our kitchen table with fresh flowers.
I am still working on Troy for chickens. I told the kids that if we do a really good job with the garden this year, maybe we could get chickens next year. I know that chickens are not much like vegetables, but they will both be in the backyard. I just want their eggs. And to give them swanky old fashioned names. The chickens, not the eggs. :)
Wish me luck!
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