Wildflower Writes

I don’t know what it is about a breeze through my hair and dirt between my toes that makes me wax philosophical, but here I go again! This afternoon I was standing at the corner of the “garden” I had reluctantly agreed to start a month ago. I was reluctant because the only place I have a green thumb is on the online game Farmtown, and I think all my crops have wasted away there, too. When a friend recently asked me to water her plants while she was out of town, it took me five days to remember (Sorry Lisa!). I kicked off my shoes, there at the corner of the garden, and rolled up my sleeves to avoid a farmer’s tan, as ironic as that is. Then, blade by blade, I began pulling grass and weeds from around my tiny, fragile, carrot plants. I began to think how I needed to start pulling some weeds in my life. I have some bad habits. I like to eat, pretty much whenever food is available. Sometimes I’m actually hungry, but other times I’m looking for comfort or somet...

Dirt. Sunshine. Children’s laughter. It was a perfect recipe for starting a garden. I don’t grow things. I can’t even keep cut flowers alive for more than a day. I bought one of those already planted strawberry plants once. Somehow, it grew mold. And not one strawberry. My friend doesn’t grow things either. But she rents from a farmer who gave her a huge area to use for a garden. She invited a few of her friends to plant stuff. I bought some seed packets on a whim at the grocery store. I’m not even sure it’s anything I’ll eat if it grows, like yellow beans and a kind of lettuce I’ve never heard of. My friend was smart. She bought tomato plants, so she doesn’t have to make sure the seeds actually germinate. She inadvertently bought 48 plants, however. It’s good thing tomatoes are so versatile and healthy for you! I have fond memories of “helping” in the garden. My mom had this little plot in the backyard. She always bordered it with marigolds. She planted rhubarb, whic...