Itch

It's that premature time of the year again.

When that part of my soul starts to yearn for hands in warm dirt and a day filled kneeling in a garden.  It's only February and I'm pretty positive that mother-f'in groundhog saw his shadow today.  But, I don't buy it because I feel like Spring is going to come early this year. 

The ground is half frozen still and I can't plant anything because we won't be here when Spring officially arrives. 

I will be gardening in a completely different environment this year.  I'm not sure what will grow.  I'm not sure what will visit my garden or what elements will put it on the brink of disaster.  I'm not entirely certain that I will even have sufficient sunlight to grow a tomato.  Still, I feel that desire once again.  Which makes me itchy, but also makes me happy and confident that I have found something, at 26, that I will enjoy doing for the rest of my life.

Last year's garden (not pictured above), was neglected.  It represented a bunch of seeds that were very carefully watched in March and then were on their own come the end of April.  I had good intentions, but my schedule had me in its grasps.  Last year, I signed on with digthischick's Virgin Harvest, but had nothing to show. 

Actually reading what each veggie needs rather than just sticking a seed into the ground and praying. 

Sow consistently throughout the year, so I can have my favorites last longer.

Grow out of the box. I don't want neatly organized rows of carrots and corn, I want a garden that evolves and gets a little out of control. 

Making sure that the neighbor groundhog does not get a single heirloom tomato.

Growing so much that I beg friends and family to take produce from me.


Those were my goals.


 I did the first one, did not do the second, did the third one in a totally different way, did the fourth because nothing really grew, and accomplished the 5th by just handing our neighbor a basket of leftover herbs and beets when they said they would collect our mail while we were on our honeymoon.  You can view that as mostly successful in a totally unsuccessful way.

That's life, and I think that gardening is an excellent metaphor for life. 


Last year's garden represented last year's happenings.  Intended to be organized, but wildly unexpected in its harvest.  A mixture of things that are good for you, tangled with weeds, and the occasional flower for color.   I intended for the last year to be what I scheduled it to be, but when you are planning on a wedding, things pop up that you weren't prepared for.  Still, its all part of the plan and I'd rather life be a little bit messy than in even rows, easy to grab. 

Its nice to get married, but its nicer to have it all over with.  Sure, things have changed.  The biggest change is that now, we get to just live.


This year's garden will have a plan, but it won't have a blueprint.  Because, I don't know what it will all look like yet.  I know that this year's garden will have some showstoppers and will have a complexity of colors, textures, and fragrances.  Maybe I won't produce a tomato, but I'm sure I will find what to sow there too. 

Part of last year's goal was to try and grow a watermelon.  It requires very consistent, warm weather to grow.  Its complicated and daunting once you read the seed packet.  Of course, I couldn't devote my time to that.  Its very apparent that watermelon growing may never be in my future.  That's okay.  We're moving on and making new goals. 

I won't give up on the tomatoes though.