So I started the garden.
Well, I started plum tomatoes, red peppers and pickling cukes. And it's actually on time to start them. For once. We can generally start planting outdoors at Mother's Day where I live. I admit: I do not like gardening. Not even a little. But I do like eating. A lot. And what's in the produce department at the supermarket does not compare to garden fresh veggies. And so I want a garden.
I also want a gardener to do the gardening for me.
Last year, I started everything late and ended up with some sad containers instead of full garden. The year before I didn't manage to get even that far. To say that the garden area is overgrown does not really cover it. Our yard is constantly trying to return to its native prairie state. Mother Nature is tenacious, and, I think, senses our weak will-edness when it comes to lawn maintenance. Our neighbors have the best maintained yard on the block.
Sometimes I feel bad for them that they have to live across the street from us.
I'm hoping for raised beds this year. I'm convinced it will help with weeds and hopeful that it will deter some of the critters. As I was planting these seeds today, I thought I am going to have raised beds if I have to kill someone to get them. And then I laughed because I'd need to kill at least four people for each bed.
Remind me of this post when I wonder why no one will come to my house.
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