A garden dies once a year and as the nights are now creeping into the fifties death is in the air. The tomato vines are beginning to brown and sag. The peas are now withered and yellow. The strawberries are tucked into their bed until next year. The peppers will hold out for another week or so but are beginning to blush a deep red.
Truth be told, it wasn’t a great year for the garden. I think the soil is pretty exhausted and needs an overhaul, but the girls (and Dash) thoroughly enjoyed it. It became a ritual to check the garden everyday when we returned home from day care and pick some things to bring in for dinner. Most things rarely made it that far. Ally was quite content to graze the rows popping in little cherry tomatoes, sucking out the jelly and seeds than spitting the skins out. She became alarmingly proficient, quickly stripping a plant faster than a hornworm, but that’s sort of the point to all this, so I had to learn to shrug and move on. Luckily, she can’t fit the heirlooms in her mouth.
It almost didn’t happen this year, but two months later than usual, we did finally manage a free Saturday afternoon (the birthday party circuit was brutal this year) to get the snap peas planted, along with (too many) tomatoes, peppers, strawberries, lettuces and herbs.
Five seems to be the right age if you are really looking for help. Cecilia had the routine down pat this year and had the fine motor skills to do an entire, straight row this year all by herself.
Of course her little shadow thought this was a great game. Let’s crawl through the big sandbox and hide these tasty snacks! A great way to spend an afternoon after a long nap. Peas ended up side by side with peppers. Snug up besides the basil and sharing fertilizer with the tomatoes. A Jackson Pollock veggie garden.
My dream of arrow-straight, manicured rows of crops will have to wait another year. I don’t mind.