I'm a gardener! I garden!

Let me just tell you, there are a lot of things I didn't know about putting seeds in the ground and hoping for a harvest. I figured, "How hard could it be?" I knew my crop wouldn't be stellar, and honestly I think I was acting more out of curiosity than attempted self-sufficiency.

Turns out, you shouldn't plant the ENTIRE packet of tomato seeds in a 4x4 - foot plot. What do I know? I figured, "Well, some will fall on stony ground, and some will fall by the wayside and be eaten by birds, and some will be choked by weeds ..." Right?

So I planted THREE packets.

Hahahahaha ... I just made my own self laugh. I really, truly planted three packets of seeds in the ground. Sixteen square feet of ground. My father-in-law teased me and said that's enough for an acre.

So this afternoon for our little Sunday walk we wandered over to our garden. I brought my camera.

Here is a lovely picture of a neighbor's plot.

 

 

And another neighbor's plot. Clearly these people know what they're doing.

 

Here's my plot:

 

 

It looks like the Amazon. It's kind of embarrassing. But we do get lots (and lots) of little cherry tomatoes! It makes me so happy to see my child eating the literal fruit of my labor. I love it.

 

This is what we snack on all day long:

 

 

Just like it will be in heaven ... endless cherry tomatoes.

 

Oh, funny story about the bell pepper. My plan this summer was to plant tomatoes and basil for a continual source of ingredients for all things Italian. I wish I could grow mozzarella cheese, but alas, that takes animals. Growing produce in dirt is about as farmy as I'm willing to go.

 

Anyway, I'd been gathering leaves for months, smelling them, and discarding them. The shape was a little off and they didn't smell right yet. How long does it take for basil to actually produce leaves you can eat? I didn't know. And I didn't google it. After two months I figured I'd gotten a lousy packet and stopped plucking leaves. I just let the plants grow and flower and whatever.

 

Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear? A bell pepper. Dangling off my basil plant.

 



 

I'm an idiot.

 

Eldon: "Bell pepper?? You're supposed to be BASIL!"



Shelli: "Yeah. Weird. But you know, in my defense, those seed packets all looked alike. They should consider relabeling some of them."
We laughed hysterically about this for weeks.
(Are we the only couple who constantly talk to each other in Disney movie dialogue? I hope not.)

But they aren't like, yummy red or orange or yellow peppers. They're this strange purple color that just tastes like sub-par green. Oh well.

So, clearly I'm still learning all this nature-taming, gardening stuff. In fact the other day as Eldon, Chiara, and I were picking tomatoes I looked at my green hands and asked, "Hey, is this why they call it having a green thumb?" The look he gave me was priceless. When we were done and bringing home our harvest of deliciousness he put his arm around me and said, "Look at what you did, Honey! This is all your hard work."

I'm rather pleased with myself about it. I put seeds in the ground and my family is eating the fruit. It kind of makes my spiritual mind go crazy with ideas and realizations.

P.S. When I watched Chiara eat the first ripe tomato we found - like a month ago - I felt like such a pioneer. I know it doesn't make any sense, and if there's such a thing as righteous indignation in heaven those pioneers' spirits are probably lit up like fireflies as I write this. But for one brief little moment I felt a connection to nature, and the mantel of dominion over the earth. I could get used to this.