Wearing Halloween shirts in April is accepted around here. In fact, I think I kind of like it. He has a mind of his own and doesn't mind ridicule. Besides, it is far easier than wearing your PJ's to school in December.We are planning a garden. That is P-L-A-N-N-I-N-G, one T shy of planting a garden. A week ago I was watching The Food Network while folding laundry and the idea occurred to me. If I have a garden, I may not have to go to the grocery store as often. That would give me more time to watch TV and blog. Genius. I know what you are thinking, a garden takes a lot of time. That's what a reasonable person may consider, but I, on the other hand, am much more impulsive.
After this initial garden revelation my mind ran away with reasons to plant a garden this year. I'll share a few with you.
My top ten reasons to plant a garden:
Number ten. I had a garden when I was single. It was so much fun and it landed me a good husband. Now it is time to pay up because I misled him into thinking I was industrious, hoaxed an engagement out of him and he hasn't had one fresh grown vegetable since. Scurvy has set in and his lack of iron gets him rejected at the blood bank.
Number nine. Child labor is cheap.
Number eight. With a recession looming over us, this garden may be our only source of nourishment.
Number seven. My folks had a garden when I was growing up. Their folks had a garden when they were growing up. It's tradition and I am all about tradition. Especially the traditions of spanking your children, hiding your loot in the china cabinet and drinking heavily on weekends.
Number six. Maybe my kids will eat more vegetables if I let them eat stuff they pull straight out of the dirt. They tend to like food off the floor better than off their plates anyhow.
Number five. I already have the dirt, what more do I really need?
Number four. Sam is hungry.
Number three. What would Martha do?
Number two. I'm running out of reasons here. Just why am I growing a garden?
And the number one reason to plant a garden is: Have you ever been to Wal-mart with three kids? I can not stress this point enough. The second we pull into the parking lot my kids' noses run with green snot, their flip-flops fall off and they become barefoot. I start swatting at them and the Wal-mart security watches me from the camera room waiting to report me to the Department of Children and Families. Sam poops his diaper and I don't have any extras with me (plus taking three kids into that bathroom is an E-coli nightmare) so we have a green cloud hanging over us for the duration of the shopping. None of this is all that bad, but the kid-bickering that ensures is pure torture. The Geneva Convention has ruled it unethical, but since it is all self-inflicted it is permitted (but only at Wal-mart). The crying is ear piercing. Pushing a buggy that has a the big-kid attachment while carrying a 25-pound sack of potatoes on my hip is nearly impossible. Turning corners I knock off endcap displays (envision hundreds of Chapstick tubes all over the ground. This is true.). Then the cell phone rings. I would ignore it, but my house is for sale and it may be a realtor wanting to know if my house is pristine for some strangers to walk through it and use it as a comparison for the house they really plan to buy for $50,000 less than mine. So I look for my cell phone that is in my purse under all the wilted, browned vegetables that Wal-mart buys from third world countries and in turn sells to me for next to nothing while American farmers are paid by the government not to farm.
Growing a garden just makes sense to me.
I think we will have a 8x12 plat for out veggies, but I accept that this will change as we get things rolling.
Indiana cousins, please don't laugh at us. Or at our dirt. Ueh, um (clearing my throat), I mean our soil.
Or at our trees. All we can do is try.
I do want to go on record as saying I do not like the location we have selected for our garden. I do not feel it gets enough sun light. Pat is so sure it does. Although the kids are hard at work tilling the soil, I reserve the right to change the location without notice.
