For the past few years I’ve watched people garden. I’ve shoveled, dug, turned and raked, but I’ve never actually taken part in the real work of growing the food. Well, no more! I hereby declare this the season JP learns to grow something.
So, a month ago I dug out a few seed packets that my boss (and fellow blogger) Emily had given me for a birthday present and then I turned to the ancient ancestral knowledge of…the internet, which told me how deep and far apart to plant the seeds and when to plant them. A former housemate of mine prepared a small plot in the backyard last year, so my first task was done. I then shoveled some great compost from the “compost pile” (AKA, three year old heap of rotting food) in our backyard into the plot and worked it in.
But my first planting actually took place indoors as it was still snowing outdoors (in April) in an old cottage cheese container atop my dryer and next to a big sunny window. I put a few beans (not sure what kind) into the container full of dirt from the plot out back, added water and waited. Much to my surprise, a plant sprouted almost instantly. I couldn’t believe how easy it had been. I had grand dreams of becoming a Jack and the Beanstalk for the modern age. But over the next week I became dubious at my sudden success and asked a green thumb friend about my new sprout and she confirmed my fears; a weed, nothing more. I plucked it and continued the wait.
But never fear, my beans did eventually assert themselves. Both of the seeds I planted sprouted and are now in the prime of their sprout lives, tall, furry and majestic. It’s probably about time I took them out of the crib and gave them a bed of their very own.
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