It all started with a need for produce.
When I worked at the circus, I had the illest produce hook-up. It was plentiful, it was punctual and it was free (well, except for payments I made in pieces of my soul).
After leaving the circus I was unable to figure out how to get my bean-and-berry hook-up. Go to the grocery store? Nope. No way dude. YOU go to the grocery store.
After a winter of surviving on frozen, tasteless misery that was shaped like vegetables, I decided it was time to buck up and hitch my wagon to the cheapest veggie scam I could find.
Luckily, Cougs was on her way to Chicago when I got the brilliant idea to plant myself a garden and she was able to help me get through the first steps (like buying a trowel) without anyone getting hurt.
Now it's been a month - and I am so gd. impressed with myself. I made things grow! Look at me!
Let's take a garden tour! (This is more for Cougs. than anyone else - but its the internet, and I do what I want).
While I would not say that any of my fingers are green, I am, clearly, full to the brim of pride over keeping all these little guys alive. And now that they are starting to actually show the promise of being edible in the not-so-far future, I'm starting to understand why people do this.
Growing veggies is one of those things that feels very grown-up. Like having a job in a tall building and making plans more than 6 hours in advance. Like making dinner more than two nights a week and waking up before 8:00 a.m. almost every Saturday. Slowly these grown-up things seem to be taking the place of all the things that felt so normal.
In an effort to not be too practical, I also have some very lovely flowers. When they bloom I feel like a frickin' magical fairy princess. I made you bloom with my long flowing locks, my sweet disposition, and my magic. Bloom you stupid, gorgeous flowers. Bloom.
Sadly, the dahlia that should be visible in the middle picture is between blooms right now. Which is a damn shame, because it is the prettiest. See you for part 2 in July.
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