FINALLY.
It has taken me weeks to upload these pictures of my pride and joy, my square foot garden. Of course, they are hideously out of date as the plants pictured are about eight times bigger, but this way you can see it in all of its perfectly squared off glory. My mom has expressed such envy about it. Does she like the beautiful boxes, painted Martha Stewart Sea Glass blue? No. Does she like the perfectly nutrient rich and weed free soil? No. Perhaps the flowering pots nestled nearby? Nope. She likes the hot pink string that divides the boxes.
The garden is my favorite spot. It is orderly. It is neat. Its biggest problems are cabbage worms and inconsistent waterfall. Plus the occasional three-year-old asking if she can "transplant" things.
So far all the crops are doing well. I had no idea that broccoli got so big. It is eclipsing the peppers next to it and at this rate I am afraid it will crowd out all its neighbors. But you would forgive it all its selfish soil-hogging if you could just see the tiny little Barbie-sized head of broccoli growing in the center. I want to harvest it, steam it, and sit Skipper down for supper.
The box farthest (furthest? no, farther measures distance...) to the right is Frankie's box. I was hoping that watching her spinach and carrots grow directly from the little seed she held in her hot little hand would stimulate an overwhelming craving to ingest any and all produce that fell within her line of sight, so overcome by the miracle, the mystery of the seed dying and coming forth with edible life. Alas, so far it has been met with a rather lukewarm interest. She will help me pull a few weeds out and then say "Mom, can you do the rest, I need to go play with Elliott. I just NEED to, Mom." Ah, the fickle fancies of the young.
But at least then I am alone in my beautiful perfectly squared garden.
5 comments:
Aye, it's a wee bit of heaven.
Don't tell me, wench, that me accent wore off on ye at the Renaissance Fair.
Awesome garden. Mine is much much less orderly. And I don't know about you folks out there in Michigan, but Oregon seems to have a serious slug invasion going on. Slimy is not something one likes to feel on ones fingers.
I'm not showing you pictures of my "starter garden" I'm attempting this year. But my watermelon is not looking promising. However, I do have a tomato and a zucchini blossom, so something just might come of this little experiment!
Your garden is lovely, my friend, and I can see why the order and nice, neat cause-and-effectness of it all would be balm to the soul of a mother of preschoolers. :)
May it yield much bounty. :)
still loving the line about Skipper. Wanna play Barbies when you come?
Post a Comment