Tomorrow I’m heading over to break ground at my new garden site — the back yard of a family friend. It’s closer to us (less than a mile), has an enclosed yard, and is one block from the beach: A good treat for my son when he’s been with me as I garden. I have a rototiller to put together and beds to measure out and I just simply MUST put in my tomatoes which have been languishing in pots outside our apartment for three weeks now.
Is this odd? I’m approaching this with much trepidation. Getting started on a garden is just so much work. But at the same time, I’m thrilled to death to get going on it. It’s been a long time coming and my fingers are itching for soil. My final inspiration was sitting in our living room last night after the tomatoes were watered. I could smell them and the window fan was actually pulling the scent of them into the room on cool air after the heat of the day. The ache for green is officially irresistible!
I’ll dig out my box of seed tomorrow and figure out what to start, as well. Although we’re in a weird month to start growing. I’ll have to pull up my old planting charts for this area, as well.
Before and after pictures will come, of course.
Last night as I finished up some work before bed, I listened to my husband and son in my son’s room. My husband had gone in to cuddle him before he went to sleep. The conversation went like this:
“I love you, Buddy.”
“I love you, too, Honey.”
“Hey! I’m not your honey!”
“Oh yes you aaaarrree!”
“I’m not your honey…I’m daddy!”
“NO! Your my honey!” (Accompanied by the beginnings of giggles.)
“Oh yeah? Well…do you know who LOVES honey??”
And then there was the most screechingly delightful round of tickles giggles and belly laughs heard in recent history. The perfect lullaby.
I am tremendously, infinitely, completely blessed.