This year we have two gardens. Our flower beds surrounding our apartment, which are the home to: zinnias, cosmos, calendula, Hungarian Breadseed poppies, nasturtiums, maiden pinks, Columbine, cardinal climbing vines, Morning Glory vines, yellow pansies, hostas, ferns and a few mystery perennials.
Our vegetable patch is situated a couple blocks south, in the community garden. It measures 10 x10 and does not receive ample sun which is why we joined our local organic CSA farm, located a couple blocks north. So far, it has been great fun being part of our CSA. We have been picking beautiful strawberries and eating delectably tender mesclun mix, arugula and garlic scapes. And it feels good to walk down a busy street and end up in a tiny eden that you somehow feel part of.
Our garden plot houses: lettuce mix, arugula, basil, cilantro, dill, blue lake beans, yellow summer squash, 10 varieties of tomatoes, sweet peppers, hot peppers (our own and our neighbors'), sunflowers, cucumbers, eggplant, garlic, leeks, a tiny watermelon variety that I don't have much hope for, and a pumpkin plant. Sometimes, after an early dinner, we will find ourselves on our bikes cycling down Pleasant St., watering can banging, on our way to our little garden. Is there a sight more wholesome?
The boys climb down the muddy slope towards the shallow creek with an old bucket and the metal watering can. They emerge muddy and wet and spill half the contents before they return to the garden. We have little conversations with our garden neighbors. Sometimes these conversation are non-verbal, in the form of gestures. As in the time I defended myself against the teasing scolds coming from a Chinese grandmother who was questioning my beans' sad lack of trellises. Somehow I explained to her that I was going to build some, and soon.