Garden Monday

Over the weekend, I finished planting my garden.  I've got the usual assortment of tomatoes, peppers, squash, cucumbers and 6 rows (!) of zinnias.  Basil, oregano, and rosemary are alongside the carrots and onions.  This year, I'm giving cantaloupe a try. 

I planted later than usual this spring, not by design but because of events out of my control.  Spring around here lingered cold and wet and only in the last two weeks has the growing season officially arrived.  I've been anxious to get plants in the ground and now the job is complete.  Though the garden is planted later than usual, I'm still confident that I'll have plenty of produce by August.

This is the fifteenth year that I've planted a garden in my backyard.  The ritual of tilling the soil, digging the holes, and marking the rows is always a reminder of the happiness of gardens past.  I vividly remember planting a garden the summer I was pregnant with JT.  That next summer, he lay on a blanket and gurgled as I planted the year's tomatoes.  By the following year, he was eager to "help."   This year, he came with me to pick out the plants and set them in place.  The two of us have had some nice talks about why I like my garden so much.

Things always seem more promising when my garden is in the ground.  Mother Nature must approve, because she sent a nice rain our way this morning.

I look forward to tending my plants and enjoying the fruits of my labors, to feeling the dirt  in my hands, and watching the progress of the plants.  Gardens are a lesson in joy from the unexpected.  They are a reminder that patience is inevitably rewarded.  I like the way my garden is a way of connecting my past with my present and my future.

Happy growing, little plants.