Gardening. I remain optimistic, but seriously, it doesn’t work for me.
I just want to grow some veggies for my table. Waah!
I planted seeds at least twice this year, in March and April, indoors. They sprouted and then died. (A third attempt involved seeds and dirt getting knocked over and mixed up. I tried to see if it would grow, anyway, but… nothing that lasted.)
I planted basil in a pot by the kitchen window. It lived for over a month. Then one by one the 2 inch seedlings (most of which didn’t even have even the tiniest true leaves yet) withered up and died.
I went to the hardware store and bought a couple of plants just so we could have something going. A couple peppers and a tomato plant. They are still in their pots because my hard working husband has been pulling late hours and weekends and I can’t turn the compost myself. I’m waiting to move some compost from our great bin we’ve had going for over a year, to the garden box – hoping the rich soil will help reverse my history of black thumbness. Then I was planning to transplant the purchased plants, and direct sow some other items now that it’s consistently very warm.
Alas, the time never came. And one day I noticed that the plants that had been growing out of the compost looked strangely familiar. The shape of those leaves. What is that?
Then the strange plant started flowering and I realized it was squash.
Our compost squash plants have taken over that side of the yard. The leaves are huge. The stems are hearty. The flowers are abundant (over 50 and counting). And now, now we even have some fruit. Six that we can see and probably more on their way.
Dave’s inordinately proud of this plant. It’s almost like God is cutting us and our poor gardening a break and giving us something for free.
And now, of course, there’s no chance we’ll be turning the compost until we get our squash harvest.