Banishing my "Black Thumb"

Charlie always told me I had a "black thumb."  I've murdered so many houseplants, I should probably be in some sort of horticultural prison facility. 

I was a little scared when we moved into this house, just because there were so many places to grow things.  I was excited to have flower beds and a garden, but scared that I wouldn't be able to overcome my planticidal past.  It's taken a while, but I'm finally there (I hope!).  Gardening has become my number one pastime.  It really took hold at the end of last summer, and early last fall.  I was working full time at the job from hell, and poking around in the dirt was my way of releasing stress.  Things went okay, but I didn't accomplish as much as I would have liked.  It's hard to do when you're putting in 50-60 hours a week at work and taking care of a small baby.

Fast forward six months, and it's a whole different story.  I can't even put into words how nice it is to have the time to really, truly GARDEN.  Like, not just shove some plants in the dirt and hope they live for more than a week, but to grow things from seed, watch them flower, collect seeds to grow next year, enjoy home-grown produce; to see worms invading my compost bin, happily eating up our discards; to see my backyard turn into a combination micro-farm and bird sanctuary.  It's amazing.

Look at this!  Teeny, tiny basil!

I've planted enough stuff to get us through a few months of winter, if I can preserve it all.  Herbs, tomatoes, squash, onions, watermelon, strawberries, corn, peppers...whew!  It's going to be an interesting summer.  If I show up at your house with pounds of fresh veg, just smile and let me in, okay?