Garden party!

This year, my best-good friend and I decided to get a couple of plots at a community garden. We found out about the program a little later than most of the other urban farmers, and maybe too late to get much out of it, but we got out there with our girls and planted our seeds, despite lacking any real knowledge of how these things work or what we should do. We Googled, we watered, we waited, we fertilized (organically, because we're trendy and conscientious like that). And when we realized our seeds were a hopeless failure, we bought some potted plants and put those in. And we watered. And we waited. And we fertilized. And, lo and behold, our plants became bigger plants, then those plants got flowers, then – I have no idea how this happened – food starting growing on our plants.

 

WHAT?!

 

I imagined the entire adventure yielding the only smallest possibility of a strawberry or a green bean, neither of which we have gotten yet. But our kids have been helping us since the beginning (I use the word "helping" in seriousness), so real results are doubly more satisfying. They take turns watering, pulling weeds, and counting the vegetables (a trick to occupy them while we do things). The few zucchini we've pulled and the softball-sized cantaloupe we're watching have become events instead of expectations; any time something mundane can be turned into something rewarding, I'm all about it. Next week, when the squash are ready, I expect to have a party right in the middle of our garden, complete with dancing and entertainment. You know, just like every other day we're there.

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