Everything is big. Big babies, big weeds. The babies need to go into the ground and the weeds need to come out.
(Notice all the noodly worm things everywhere. Those are from the pecan tree that overhangs the garden.)
But it’s just too damn hot to do anything and I spent Mother’s Day napping and reading and eating and chatting with the family. The only gardening that happened was planting more seeds (blush).
But they were flower seeds my kids put in my new hand painted mother’s day pots, okay?! (And some black pepper seeds that my dad sent me, wanting a second person to try because he thinks it’s his karma preventing them from germinating for him because my brother is presently not speaking to my father and my brother is the one who introduced him to those peppers. But really the seeds smell musty and look dark.)
We didn’t work on the fence this weekend. Saturday was a pretty lazy day since we partied like rockstars Friday night. (The Wilmington trip reminded us how to have crazy fun, so we have been making a point to do that.) But Sunday we did manage to till up the garden some more and I put down a few radish and cabbage seeds (since they were right about cabbages not wanting to be transplanted) and also a bunch of turnip seeds my dad sent me.
I also got a lot of my main summer garden seeded. Timing is a bit weird since we are going to Florida for a few days mid-April, but I think (hope) I’ve got it figured out. (Except for how the chickens are supposed to fend for themselves, so I should probably work om that soon.)
And while I was off wildly dating (and then lazily recovering) some cold weather came and killed the zinnias:
And some basil died too. But I’m not going to replant the basil until later. And the zinnias, eh well they probably wouldn’t have liked that ridiculously thick mulch anyway (gotta figure something out in the beds around the house).
But the mullein and calendula made it alright:
My Sunday productivity also allowed me to transplant several baby dianthus next to the baby forget-me-not around my mom’s tree.
The dianthus are supposed to be black with white trim. I’m excited to see them.
think thou needest effing light before your first true leaves arrive? And why dost thou still stretch out for the daytime skylights in the mudroom after spending all night under a grow light in the basement?
Why don’t my plants seem to follow the rules? Little brats. They are cute with their little baby broccoli selves, though. Maybe it’s just because broccoli is a floppy baby anyway?
Do I have the energy to plant a fall garden? Can I hack up the grass and move my decrepit containers and amend the soil and have a round three for 2016? Is it worth it? Will the slugs and caterpillars demolish all of my brassicas before they’re even much of anything? Will planting in the actual earth be worse for pests than even my containers were?
My dirt seems way too full of life as I hack it up. Grubs and beetles and random freaky looking guys. My hamstrings and shoulders get destroyed after only an hour or two. Why the fuck don’t I have a tiller yet? Too lazy to ask for the help in getting one I guess. I’d rather hack, hack, hack.
Except I’m tired and I haven’t been hacking very much.
Is this going to happen? Motivation is low due to the shitty little harvests following high hopes over summer. I loved it, I did. But is it time to rest now instead of hacking up the earth to meet a seasonal deadline?
Don’t know. Leggy babies after a half-hearted planting waiting for my broken body to fix the dirt in the heat makes me question it for sure.