Bless my husband’s heart, he made me a raised garden bed.
For the past couple of years, I have been wanting “a little bit of earth” to grow some tomatoes and herbs.
My husband had been putting it off, understandably though, in the hopes we could find several acres in the country to buy and move to so we could have the big garden of my dreams.
With all of our searching, we have yet to find anything within our price range that fits our needs, so he finally succumbed to my pleas and made me a small raised garden bed. And a fine one it is too!
We’re a little late in getting this in, but this is the first chance he’s had time. So he started on it late Sunday afternoon…
…and finished it up Monday, after a few breaks to mow the yard and do some woodworking. And, of course eat and sleep! I let him do that, too. Generous, I know.
The kids had fun “helping” with the garden project. All that hard work called for a short popsicle break.
Because it was a raised garden, we had to buy dirt to fill in the frame.
Buying dirt is kind of a pet peeve of mine. It doesn’t seem like a person should have to buy dirt. Or water. Or air.
But what are you going to do? Dig a whole in your neighbor’s yard and steal their dirt? Probably not the best idea. So we bought it.
Norah helped me plant our little baby tomato plants, herbs and one jalapeno pepper plant – just for a kick. And, yes, that is a serving spoon she is using to dig holes. I thought about buying a little shovel purposed for digging holes in box gardens, but as we wouldn’t be using it all that often, a serving utensil seemed more practical. And, if you are ever over for dinner and are scooping some supper onto your plate with said spoon, please rest assured, it has been thoroughly washed.
Ahhhh….yes, that’s the manicure I’ve been wanting for years! (I hope I’m not unwittingly throwing out some kind of gang-sign.)
We were still short a few herb varieties I hadn’t found at the greenhouse, so this morning, the kids and I trekked over to the local farmer’s market. And when I say local, I mean walking-distance-local. I guess that is one of the perks of living in the city. We took my childhood (translate – old) Red Flyer wagon for the kids’ first spin in it. It’s a fun walk to the farmer’s market because it involves twice going under the train bridge and crossing the bridge over the river. The train bridge was a bit frightening, as a train was rumbling by overhead, but the bridge over the river was exciting.
We made it home with the required herbs and a few heirloom tomato plants – and some candy, to boot.
So there she is – my new little garden.
Now we’ve just got to watch for hungry bunnies.
Did you plant a garden this year?