I am a Tomato Patch

In the same way that pets sometimes resemble their owners, I think I resemble my tomato patch.

Yesterday, I plucked a gazillion cherry tomatoes from our garden.  The wet summer and long growing season produced a jungle out there!  When we first planted the tomatoes, I didn't have any "cages" on hand.  Then things got busy, and I missed our window.  The tomatoes became bushes, and I couldn't (or didn't) squeeze them into the rings.  So, the vines are all over the place, reaching in every direction.  Honestly, between the tangle of browning leaves and competing prickly pumpkin stems, our tomato plot is not all that "pretty." Appearance is not a priority, productivity is.

As I kaplink, kaplank, kaplunk a ton of tomatoes into harvesting bowls, I'm wearing the same clothes I've worn most of the week; I haven't brushed my hair, nor had it cut since I can remember; I am pretty well covered in dirt.  But, earlier in the morning, I made waffles and eggs for six, packed four lunches, and biked four kids to school.  Brushed hair be damned.  I am a hard-working tomato patch, and I'm thankful to be surrounded / hidden by some blooming marigolds.  

Cheap Gardening: Seeds

You can't beat cheap gardening with cosmos seeds.  I planted these in mid-August, and for two months now, the flowers have gone crazy.  It makes up for so many gardening mis-steps along the way.

Perseverance and a Plant

June is learning the power of perseverance.

In April, during our annual "seed soup" party, June started six or eight Nasturtium seeds.  Starting seeds with the kids is not something I do with precision.  The basil seeds mix with the tomato, which mix with the nasturtium, which mix with the lavender.  I don't even bother labeling.  It's one big guessing game as the shoots peek up through the dirt.

Later in May, however, one recognizable nasturtium plant grew big enough to transfer to a pot.  June adopted it and watered it all summer, on the irregular care-taking schedule of an 8-year-old.

Finally, 6 months later, she got a single yellow flower!  It brought her immense joy.

100 Bulbs

For a few years now, Fall has brought a bulb frenzy at our household.  I mean, if you're planting bulbs, why not plant 100?  We went for 50 daffodils and 50 tulips.  We'll see how many make it.

This year, we managed to do it in the daylight. (Last year's was a midnight planting.)  Though the work will soon be forgotten (probably already is), it will mean added excitement when springtime rolls around.

100 Bulbs, 100 Flowers, Part II

The 100 daffodil bulbs we planted in the Fall (here) are blooming.  They're beautiful.  It's a lesson in delayed gratification.  But, mostly it's the joy of Spring.

100 Bulbs, 100 Flowers

The Start:

The Finish:

I have felt a biblical mantra in the back of my head lately: "You reap what you sow."  The thought is both vague and frightening in the parenting realm, so I am applying it to gardening:  The other night, girls and I planted 100 bulbs.  When we finished, it was dark.  We'll have to keep the squirrels away all winter, but surely we'll have a big row of daffodils next spring.  It's something I've always wanted.

P.S.  The wheelbarrow did eventually fall over.  No one seemed to mind.

Dreaming Pigs

At about 2 in the morning last night, John wanted to reminisce about pigs.  "Pig big."  "Pig thleeping."  "Beebee pig."

The previous day, we went to a farm.  A day at the farm with John is... unusual.  John's older siblings humor themselves by teaching animal sounds:  Horses say "moo," chickens say "oink," sheep say "neigh."  But, John is figuring it out, and so we had a mid-night rehearsal.

Sleepily, we woke to fresh raspberries that we'd picked the previous day.  And flowers that we'd cut from rows of color.

Popping Tomatoes

This summer, between travel and gardening, we chose travel.  We do, however, have a humble harvest of vegetables, mostly tomatoes and basil.   The cherry tomatoes are delicious, but I think I like watching the Tomato-Popper best.