365 True Things: 75/Garden

And while we're talking about good intentions . . .

Pretty much every spring, I go to the garden center and buy many packets of seeds, as well as plants—peppers, tomatoes, eggplant, strawberries, &c.—in six-packs. I then contentedly set about planting and watering, and more or less daily go out to see how my seedlings are doing.

But once they get going . . . I kinda sorta forget to check on them.

Or—ostensibly the point of the whole project—to harvest.

This year, I got discouraged when seeds didn't sprout: one pea out of a couple dozen; no green beans; two lettuces out of a gazillion seeds.

No, wait: many lettuces sprouted—but they were immediately munched to the ground by otherwise invisible bugs. Earwigs and sowbugs are the main culprits, and they cleverly hide during the daylight hours. The only evidence I have of their existence is my crewcut seedlings.

And even though I know who's the problem, I refuse to use insecticides. I expect there are nontoxic ways of controlling them; I should find out.

So right now in our garden—where David is assiduously setting up the drip irrigation as I type—we do have some very healthy tomatoes, one healthy and one struggling artichoke, some healthy-enough strawberries, zucchini and crookneck squash, pumpkins, maybe canteloupes, fava beans, some carrots, some onions, two lettuces, an eruption of flowering arugula. And one four-inch-high snow-pea plant.

And a fennel plant that is about to take over our town of two thousand. That, however, is completely unintentional.

So, as long as I'm thinking about returning from vacation and developing new habits because after vacation all things are possible!, I hereby vow to attend to the garden and enjoy its bounty to the fullest.