I almost forgot my tomatoes

In all my endless jibber jabber about all the crazy ass stuff I pile on my to-do plate I almost forgot about one very big very satisfying thing I get to do this time of year. My garden.

I’m not a pretty bulbs and flowers kind of garden girl. To me a garden isn’t worth the work if I can’t eat it. Don’t get me wrong I love other people’s beautiful and carefully planned gardens, wild gardens, natural escapes, you know pretty gardening things, but for me, If I’m going to take the time to grow it, I want to nurture it, water it, sing to it (torture it) and then kill it and eat it.

Last year was pretty much the first time in my adult life that I succeeding in growing anything more complicated than a mint plant. If you bring a plant inside my house it will pretty much die, but I discovered that for whatever reason I can make a vegetable garden thrive.

Suddenly I find myself in the midst of planting my peppers, zucchinis and tomatoes. My herb garden is still in full swing from last year and I am contemplating planting pumpkins, green beans, broccoli and maybe a few other veggie treats as well.

I love my garden. It’s a quiet place to run away from the world and talk to my plants like I’m the only person on this crazy planet that is making any sense at all. Oh, and if they piss me off, I can hack them up into pieces, grill them up and serve them to my friends…

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