**Tonight's post contains some language that you may not want to use in church, around your grandparents, or-as parents know-in front of your children. My apologies...but I gotta f*ckin' get it out somewhere. Thank you.**
When I finished planting my garden yesterday, I did so in anticipation of rain. The sky looked gloomy, my head was aching, and there was the smell of rain in the air. I was hoping to get a hassle-free watering, since I do not have an outdoor source and am left asking my amazing husband John to fill up the husky watering can, which weighs more than a small child when full. Instead of rain, I was merely teased by Mother Nature and blessed with a beautifully crisp night. A night wonderful for walks around the block and riding the battery-operated mini-atv down the hill. A night not so wonderful for virgin-to-the-elements, newly planted wonders of life.
Normally, when sowing indoors, a gardener takes their seedlings through a period of 'hardening'; taking the seedlings outdoors for increments at a time allows them to acclimate to the natural climate. Remember, they were growing in the comfort of an indoor environment free of wind, animals, and temperature changes. [Seedlings that are sowed directly outdoors are done so once the weather has become warm enough for them to survive outdoors].
Anticipating a warmer weekend without downpours, I thought my plants would benefit from the expansion of roots and added nutrients in the bed, and decided to move them. I also was in desperate need of distracting my brain [severe migraine that day, of course] and being out in the garden is something I love no matter what.
To make a long story short [too late], I was worried about my babies. Yes, they were freshly planted in the warm soil, given a nice bit of hummus/manure to feed from, mulched, and watered right after planting. I spoke to them as I planted them in the earth. [Yes, I talk to my plants. Always. Sometimes it's words of endearment or encouragement. Other times I'm just talking to talk; those who know me know I sort of love to talk.] I tried my best to give them the start they needed, but I cannot control the weather. Thankfully, to my reading and education, I did something new to my garden...for my garden. I bought a covering [all natural, of course] to protect the wee little ones from strong winds, cold nights, and those bastard birds and squirrels who love to pull out bulbs, take a bite, and then piss off.
This morning, I went out to the garden as soon as I was finished my breakfast. It was very chilly last night, and I was worried that the smaller plants may have not survived. I peeked under their burlap blanket. All was well. I checked both beds and covered my lovelies back up; it was still super cold! Later in the afternoon, once the sun had warmed the air, I removed the cover and let the sun warm the ground. Everyone survived the night and was basking in the glow of the sun. Later in the evening, amongst the company of my children and a close friend, I watered my garden: checking on all the seedlings, dead-heading the flowers, and tucking everyone in for the night. My hands smelled like burlap and marigold, and I loved it.
Tonight, my post title was a little more obscure. I often say and whole-heartedly believe that it is the little things in life that make it so wonderful. I still get so excited finding a quarter on the ground. What the fuck can I get with a quarter?! You can't even make a god-damn phone call with that shit. That might buy me a drop of gas. At least I'll get my cart at Aldi. Anywho, as I was saying...the little things...
It really is the little things in life that make me happy, and my garden gives me tons of little things to love.
Tonight's definitions are brought to you by the letter F, for fucker...because I can say it. That's right, bitches...that's how I roll.
Good night, everybody!
Definitions*
Sowing: the act of scattering/placing/planting seeds in the soil. This can be done indoors in peat pots or small planters. It can also be done outdoors directly in the ground where you intend them to become full grown.
Dead-heading: removing the dead 'heads' of flowers on flowering plants. This allows the plant to allocate it's energy and nutrients to producing more flowers. This can also be done with yellowing leaves; it can be considered a facet of pruning.
*These are my own definitions; I do not take them from a website or dictionary.
One love,
Sara :)
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