go go gadget garden!

Everyone I know is going ga-ga over gardening this summer, in a major way. Seriously, even people whose husbands have lost their jobs and are living by the river are borrowing cell phones to call and boast about their squashes and whatnot. I'm not gonna lie, my fondness for eating is totally disproportionate to my interest in gardening. Oh well, I mean, I know many people whose verbosity is disproportionate to their grammatical prowess, and somehow, the world goes 'round.

But Todd's garden, which he planted in one day, is gaining serious notoriety amongst my family and friends. Right before he stopped working, he came home after a 14 hour shift and built a patio, the first thing our yard has had to be proud of since a monarch butterfly visited in 2003. We never spent that much time in our un-landscaped scourge of a property, but the patio changed everything. Not that my house isn't cozy and inviting, and that Todd and the kids aren't welcoming and behaved, but summer nights gabbing with friends outside has suddenly become a sensation. So yea for the patio:

Please note the extra large cinder block in the corner behind Quinn, the one on which I bashed my head two posts ago.

Now for the garden. The day after Todd whipped out this little slice of serenity, before coming in and whipping up dinner, he decided to plant a garden. I scarcely looked up from my book. "Okay." He came in after dark and explained that this row was gonna be...oops I totally forgot everything he said. He added that being off work, he felt it was wise to grow some of our own produce. With my only reference being the other gardens I've seen, we're either going to save 7 cents on produce or go on an all-meat diet. Call me a cynic.

Then this happened:

Jennifer came over the other night, despondent over her ailing grandfather, and as I prepared to listen and comfort her, she said, "Holt shit! I was just here and that garden is twice the size it was!"


The back forty, which used to be dirt.


I definitely know carrots...especially when there's a sign that says 'carrots.' And I am perfecting my fraudulent, knowing nod when people arrive to see me, and then dash past me as if I were a telephone pole exclaiming, "Oh my god! That's a rare African Duvalia Polita!" Of course it is, I nod, not knowing what the hell they're talking about.


This corn is taller than I am. Every time I pass it I hear "if you build it they will come," and expect Shoeless Joe Jackson to appear.


Blessed be grape tomatoes. Note the absence of any ripe ones...


The aforementioned squashes...guess they were worth hearing about after all.

So colour me impressed. And corrected. And let me know if you need 15 ears of corn in a hurry or three bags of beans. I am not, however, sharing my tomatoes, but you can sit on the patio with me and watch me eat them.