It's spring! And I'm done for the summer, which is absolutely fabulous. The last few days have been lovely weather, and I've had the luxury of planting out my tomato plants (which still look kind of puny, alas!) and various sorts of seeds that I'm hopeful about -- beans, peas, and beets, so far. I have a small garden space, so I have to make a priority the things I really want to eat. Tomatoes get a top place on that list.
But I also really like cucumbers, although I may be the only one in the house who does, so I purchased a 4-pack of the japanese style cucumbers at my local greenhouse, and also some delica squash. Thinking ahead, I picked up a couple of packs of marigolds to help repel pests from them.
It's great -- I finished planting out my tomatoes, and filled up the spaces with some garlic, and my garden looks intentional, planned and even kind of organized for the first time! Last night I was showing it off to my husband and son, and we came across the little flat of plants that my son had started at his preschool, and given to me for Mother's Day.
"What kind of plants did you plant, Tristan?" I asked him, pointing to the little flat.
"Miracles."
"Marigolds?" I asked.
"No mom, we planted miracles," he said quite definitely.
"OK, Tristan," I smiled. It always seems like miracles to me anyway when I see little green shoots coming out of the ground -- especially if I planted the seeds myself.
