I am growing

My garlic and my tulips have come up! They live! I planted them roundabout Thanksgivukkah. (Thank goodness for En, or I would not have known that garlic is supposed to get in before first frost.) The tulips were a housewarming gift; the garlic — I selected from our CSA box one varietal (we get several) that I hope is hardneck, so as to produce scapes. (Softneck varietals don't scape. Scapes are the whole point of our growing garlic. We don't need more bulbs than our CSA provides. We need more scapes!) I separated the cloves and stuck them into the ground.
   Minutes after I planted my garlic I found little mystery sprouts elsewhere in the garden. I dug one up ... they'd planted garlic already! Ha ha! If their planting was hardneck, we'll have scapes aplenty. I doubt it is.

I was newly pregnant then. I didn't work in the garden again until after the miscarriage.

On the first good day in February, I ventured to survey the garden. Not too daunted, I cleared the raised beds, preparing them to be turned. Most of the beds were already emptied when we moved in (in October, remember), but I didn't plant cover crops, and I didn't cover the beds (with burlap, e.g.). I didn't know to. Blessedly very few weeds took purchase and clearing the beds was a work without dread.
   On George Washington's birthday, a traditional pea-planting day, I planted peas (securing a trellis!) after I turned over two of the beds. I learned from a book last year that one is to turn one's beds. It was a mystery to me until I did it. Here's how. I took our garden shovel (a Hannukah gift) and upheaved the dirt — upturned clods happy with worms. Then with another gifted tool I raked until the clods were clods no more. You might say I rotated and fluffed the dirt. In analogy, the dirt in the garden bed is like the pillow or the mattress in the sleeping bed. Now it is a known mystery; I have been through that door of the universe. Or it has been through me.
   Last Friday, I planted lettuce from seed in the greenhouse. My lettuce is a little late, but the way I figure it, if I fuss over dates overmuch I won't have fun and I won't garden. I'll learn what's worth a fuss as I go.

So far, everything I've planted has been from seed or bulb. It's unusual; I am used to the starts mentality, not the seed mentality. It is pleasant for me to work from seed. Maybe as I get used to having a greenhouse it will become the new usual. The holy grail is using seeds I've saved myself. Imagine gardening without needing to be at someone else's mercy or mercantile for seeds!

When we moved, I was concerned about how much it would co$t me to garden. So far, it's about $3. The only co$t to me has been buying the peas and lettuce seeds. Tools = borrowed or gifted. Da (Bjorn's dad) bought us a Costco set of his favorite gardening gloves. Bjorn found overalls and a flannel work shirt for me at the Free Store.
   I need a hat. I discovered this happily on Friday. I was two+ hours working in the sun and my eyes felt it a little. A hat — and more plants. Co$ts will rise, but I am not concerned about them any more. What shall I plant next!?