Growing up, my parents always grew their own vegetables in the summertime. We lived with my grandmother before I started grade school and she had a vegetable garden.
Later, my father would build a greenhouse in our backyard, using plumbing pipes and sheets of plastic film salvaged from an abandoned work site (or believed to be abandoned, anyway) which would one day play center stage for make believe expeditions to Egypt and China, late night bug hunts and marathons of hide-and-go-seek.
My parents surprised us with plotting out and planting our first vegetable garden, a few weeks after my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I moved into this (not yet full) house and did so, on the sly, while we were both at work.
"Our grandchildren are going to need a place to play."
We've been on many, many lovely expeditions since then and adopted several frogs, hundreds of worms and scores of other less invasive creepy-crawlies over the years and, well, I can't imagine a summer without digging in the dirt.
My husband suggested perhaps I should NOT plant a vegetable garden, this year (stupid busted up back) and we went to the mats...or, raised beds...on whether or not I would be able to handle worrying about...you know...one more thing.
"But, I love digging in the dirt."
Ripping out weeds by their roots, burying a spade deep into the earth, digging out my frustrations and casting them away with every rock and stone -- it's cheaper than therapy, I tell ya'.
It took me ALL day -- what once would have been only a few short hours of work -- and, trust me when I tell you it is certainly NOT the most beautiful vegetable garden you will ever see...especially, in this part of Jersey...DAMMIT!
Busted up back or not...yesterday...I made roughly 6 yards of dirt MY B*TCH and, well, I swear you could STILL hear her laughing.
Turns out she is a bit of a sadist, the b*tch.
"So, I see you're still insisting on growing a vegetable garden then."
YES! Aaaaand, I guess we better start hoping for rainy days...you know...so maybe I can get some housework done...or NOT!
© 2003 - 2012 This Full House