Today I picked a variety of lettuces. So much lettuce. Bags full of lettuce! And it was thrilling to the soul.
Not just because I love a good, crisp salad on a hot day.
And not just because I've been watering this little plot every day and waiting with child-like anticipation for it to bear the fruits of my labour.
No, not just that.
It was thrilling because last year it was not at all thrilling.
Last year, a crow made a nest out of the beans I forgot to water. The one tomato that actually grew was stolen. The herbs were brown. The cucumbers wilted. I overheard a stranger call my plot "The Garden of Doom." I was a green-thumb-wannabe with a brown, uneducated thumb.
So I cried a little.
Bought a "How to garden" book.
And set to work.
By the time Spring rolled around in 2010, my thumb felt slightly greener, my commitment to nurturing was stronger, and I had a vision (and, much to my own surprise, a hand-drawn map of how my garden would be planted.)
Of course, on the day I started planting, it was obvious that I was about 2 months behind the other, more serious green thumbs in our little garden community. I had flashbacks of the cawing crow that I shooed away from last years dried up bean crop. "Garden of Doom" repeated over and over in my head. I thought: "Maybe this is wasted effort."
But, still, I carried forth.
I planted.
I watered.
I monitored.
I even named our garden (Gary, by the way.)
And the more love I gave, the more Gary grew.
"Wow, looks great!" said a passerby on week two.
"Those strawberries are going to be plump!" said a fellow gardener last week.
"Can I take a picture?" asked a tourist.
My head started to swell with my new found garden fame.
And I liked it.
And so, today, Gary gladly let me pick the leaves of some healthy, strong, and scrumptious lettuces.
I made a mesclun mix for M and I, and more bags for our friends.
Lettuce lettuce everywhere!
And I am so happy!!!
Come over for a salad.
It's delightful.
