Spring is taking its time to settle in this year. David had to wear his winter jacket last Saturday, and we had to turn our heat on. In May. Then, after the cold snap, we had a week of rain in the forecast to look forward to. I decided I’d appreciate the rain a lot more if it was watering my plants, so yesterday I got all my veggies in the ground.
This year our garden is more of an experiment than ever. It’s always an experiment, but this year the curve ball is that we’re having a baby right smack dab in the middle of growing season. That means Tom will be in charge of watering, weeding, chasing away chipmunks and pinching suckers.
Usually the garden is sort of my domain, but since he still refuses to take over breastfeeding responsibilities, he’s agreed to pick up the slack elsewhere. He did great the last time he took over a gardening responsibility, and he’ll do great again.
Before planting, we prepped our soil with compost from our compost pile and some sort of gourd sprouted from the compost. We probably had 50 sprouts; I saved about eight of them. I’m hoping for pumpkins.
Speaking of gourds, we have butternut squash, crookneck squash, zucchini squash and cucumber. Last year we got very few zucchini or squash thanks to vine borers. This year I might try wrapping their vines with panty hose. It’s something I read about on the Internet.
This is where the experiment really begins. I’ve never grown eggplants before, but last week we made this recipe and decided we could handle more eggplant in our lives.
My tomato sprouts look terrible — all of them. Cherry, roma and beef steak. We’ll see what happens. They might pull through, but I might have to buy plants. If that happens I’ll pat Tom on the back and say, “Don’t worry, babe, even experienced farmers lose a plant or two each season. Let’s not let it happen again.”
We also have bush beans, black beans, basil and lots of other herbs.
This is my sage plant. It bolts every year and I don’t even care because it’s so pretty. Plus, no one uses enough sage to warrant an entire plant.
I’m most excited about these guys, our blackberries. We’ve been waiting for flowers for a while, and flowers mean berries.
In our first year of marriage a close friend wanted pies at her wedding and asked me to make one. Almost every Friday I practiced until I got it just right — the crust, the consistency, the heart cut-outs.
They became Tom’s favorite dessert and now whenever he asks for one I roll my eyes and respond like he just asked me to migrate a blog for him or give up Diet Coke. Are you kidding me? A blackberry pie? Do you have any idea how much work that is? Not to mention that blackberry pie is a summer dessert, everyone knows that. I don’t have time for a homemade blackberry pie.
But maybe I can be convinced this year.
While I was at the nursery, I bought this. It was a little impulse grab; an early Mother’s Day gift to myself.
Foxglove is one of my favorite flowers. It’s one of the things Thomas Jefferson and I have in common.
I was just Googling “foxglove Thomas Jefferson” for a link about how he had them in his garden at Monticello, and instead found this link about how poisonous they are.
Wonderful. That won’t be a problem for us since everyone in our family is really good at categorizing everything according to genus and species.