So, my potatoes were a bit slow to emerge but they are up and gorgeously dark and leafy. I added the second tire to my stacks and more dirt. It really does take a lot of dirt so I think I’ll have to buy some so I can stop stealing the precious medium from my other beds. I was running all about my yard taking shovels full from here and there and I imagined my plants saying hey, bitch, that’s for MY roots. I have a history with that soil. You can’t just take part of my soul and give it away to the new spud on the block.
I do often think about my different plants and their personalities and voices. What would a bush bean say to a purple cabbage? You and your show offy, ditsy foliage. You are narcissistic. I, on the other hand, carefully conceal my treasure. My modesty is only interrupted when the time is right. And then, everyone is impressed with my thick-skinned, bold, phallic fruit.
I put everything in the ground last weekend. My peas are growing like an inch a day. Radish are ready to be harvested. Spinach are up. Carrots, beans, cabbage, purslane, tomatoes in the dirt. I still have to get the peppers in but I think I’ll wait until my early greens are gone. My arugula and greens bolted because it was really effing cold for a long time and then 90 degrees and the poor bastards didn’t know what was happening so they just started blooming and climbing toward the sun. The good news is that they still taste great.
I planted some raspberries. I got a tiny sunburn on my back. Bug hung out in the saucer and danced as I weeded and spread compost. Lilacs are in ripe bloom, the cats rolled in the hay that paved my garden paths. It was a good and overdue weekend in the dirt.
