Excavations

I'm trying to get off the gardening kick, but I found several disturbing excavations in my garden early this evening.

SOMETHING had been digging there. Perhaps attempting to burrow. Maybe looking for food. Or the mother ship.

I'm not sure if it was the Dill Aliens (see previous post), since the excavations weren't near the dill and the excavator apparently tried to do its digging close enough to the driveway to run away quickly, if need be.

There are plenty of chipmunks and squirrels and other rodential types in the neighborhood. Maybe the mulch looked like an easy in for them. The digger did not seem to make much progress once it hit dirt.

This does not a happy camper make. It's fodder for a cranky camper. Because I've invested too much sweat and pride in my attempts at landscaping beautification. I thought I did very well as a novice.

Maybe this is a test. By the local rodent garden club.

Curse their cute rabid little rodent selves.

Speaking of Gardening and Aliens...

I'm starting to see myself the way some people see a former smoker. Y'know, the type of person who smokes two packs a day for 150 years and then one day they stop, do a 180 and become banner carriers for quitting, lecturing about how bad smoking is for you and complaining about other people's second hand smoke and how it's making them sick.

That's how I am starting to perceive myself in relation to (cue bad-thing-happening music) "the garden."

I'm so proud of my efforts and the end result of my little pathetic plot of land that every time I walk by it I stop and stare. Sometimes I water it. But I take in the little blue spreading flowers, the sunflowers getting taller daily, the lavender, and the awe inspiring dill.

I planted the dill because the old lady at the garden center said it would attract butterflies. She didn't tell me I'd have to name it Audrey II and that it would overcome the surrounding spaces until it starts swallowing people whole.

If she had, I wouldn't have planted it. Especially the one, the little 3 inch dill plant, that I planted in a container and is now well over 2 feet tall.

I'm starting to fear for my life and am concerned about the communications it may have established with its home planet. No need to worry about the oil spill in the Gulf. The invasion of the Dill People is imminent.

But I digress. Again. My pride in my little garden is palpable. Even with the prospect of alien invasion. So I need to talk about it. Especially now that the hard work with that one is done. There are several other areas waiting for my attention. I know they'll look good when they're done too. So check back with me in 2012 and hopefully I'll have some good pics to post.

Until then, prepare for the dill.

Eating Greens

The vegetable garden is bearing fruit, so to speak. And tonight, because it's so hot and I'm a bad planner, we're having dinner from the garden.

Salad.

Or, more appropriately, lettuce.

Filthy, dirty lettuce. I can't believe how much I have to wash this stuff to get off the dirt and the insects looking for a free ride. I am not one of those people who finds it exotic and exciting to eat insects.

And then there's the broccoli. Yes, broccoli. Broccoli from the garden. Hard to believe. It's a little less voluptuous than the grocery store broccoli, but it's actual broccoli. I have to say I find all this fresh produce a little awe-inspiring. Just go out to the garden, cut what you need, wash off the worm poop, cook the shit out of it, and eat it.

Yum. I'm salivating.

The thing about organic gardening is that it's probably way cheaper to buy your produce in the store. This salad we're having tonight, along with the broccoli, is probably a $26 salad.

I guess I'd better throw a little goat cheese in there.

Maybe, with the goat cheese, I can charge $28. Of course, on the children's menu tonight is leftover chicken tenders.

Yum. No worm poop on those tenders.

What a good mother am I!

But while I'm on the subject of gardening (I know, you thought I was done), aside from how our Victory Garden might put us in the poorhouse, it's a wonderful thing for the boy to experience. He goes out there with the "Farmer" (I use that term loosely) and digs in the dirt, shovels the dirt, and uses the Awesome Auger (it is!) to dig holes for little animals trying to escape from larger animals. What a learning experience. Better than private school. And way better than Sponge Bob.

Sponge Bob has been banned from this house by me. But I sorta forgot to mention it to the necessary parties.

Where was I? Oh yes... farming, planting, growing, healthy food, eductional, blahblahblah, priceless.

The End.