It Finally Happened . . .

I had nearly given up.

It felt like I was being thwarted at every attempt I made,

One step forward . . . three steps back.

But I didn't give up.

I kept up the dream,

the hope,

and the work.

And it finally happened  . . .

MY GARDEN IS PLANTED!

WooHoo!

feel free to join me in performing the happy dance

Oh, she is such a beauty!

Here are the seedlings I bought at Kredl's the other night.  (I must add, I do feel a slight twinge of guilt over the fact I did not grow my own seedlings this year AND that I did not incorporate it into our homeschool lessons.  Ugh!) I have corn, sugar snap peas, brussel sprouts, green peppers, cucumbers, and romaine lettuce in there!

And here is my baby . . . my potato patch.  You do not understand how giddy I am over the fact that I am growing potatoes.  It makes no sense, but ask Mr. Level-Headed, and he can attest to how ridiculously in love I am with the idea of growing my very own lil' spuds.  I know . . . crazy!!

I also planted some zucchini and pole beans from seed so we'll just have to wait and see if they are a go.

I am in complete and utter shock that it is finally planted.  I keep checking on it and basking in a job well done.  I can't believe I almost didn't put one in this year!

It was with great sadness on Sunday evening that I told myself to give up on the garden.  I had it in my head it was too late to plant one and too unrealistic to think that I could find the time to put it in.  So I chalked it up to one of my many failings this year and decided to try again next year.  It really saddened me because I remembered how much I loved my garden last year, how excited I was at each harvest, how proud I was when my family enjoyed a meal from the all of our hard work, and how satisfied I felt after a long day of playing in the dirt.

I am still a kid at heart!

Then, like all the other times when I feel overcome by defeat, my inner Tiger Mama kicks in and roars . . .

Girl, quit your whining, pick up some plants, and get to work . . . NOW!

And I always listen to her because, frankly, she terrifies me.

She shuts up my inner perfectionist and my inner nervous Nelly and pushes me to become the woman I want to be . . .

Yes, you've guessed it, this is no longer just about my tiny little garden.

This year has been filled with disappointments and challenges, and I have come very close to throwing in the towel, saying goodbye to my hopes of becoming a mama again, and closing the door on our homeschooling adventures.

But I didn't, and I won't.

Instead, I am going to take my three-steps-back in stride and make sure that my one-step-forward is a giant leap, and then, by the grace of God, I might just make it.

And, oh, how sweet it will be.

Irene, Irene, Irene . . .

Shenanigans Inc. is back online!

Woohoo!

Typically, I love a good storm, but I am definitely not a fan of Irene.  Most of the storms we get here in New Brunswick are snow storms, and I love them because a good blizzard means lying in your bed waiting for the radio broadcaster to announce that school is cancelled, which he almost always does, rolling over and falling back to sleep, wearing your jammies all day long, watching movies, and drinking hot chocolate.  They are awesome!  But hurricanes, or post-tropical storms, which is what Irene devolved into by the time she greeted us, are a whole different story.

 

Knowing my kids and Scout were sleeping soundly in Zoe's room, I curled up beside Mr. Level-Headed, burrowed myself deeply beneath my duvet and drank in Irene's spectacular feast for the senses.  I was soothed to sleep by the sound of her pelting rain on my sky lights and her howling winds outside my bedroom window, the sight of her erratic light show, and the smell of her moist, southern air. 

She was magnificent! 

Two hours later, though, I was awakened out of my blissful revelry by a crying child, who is terrified of the dark and who was startled to learn that the power had gone out.  He crawled in between Mr. Level-Headed and I, and we fell back to sleep.

CRASH!

Pumped full of adrenaline and fear, I jumped out of bed.

What was that?! 

I guess I was the only who heard it because the two sleeping bodies beside me did not budge.  I peered outside my bedroom window to see what had happened, but it was too dark to see.  At this point, I had envisioned one of the large trees that surround our house to have fallen on one of the cars, or even worse, our roof.  By now, I am not sleeping and there is no way I will be sleeping with the dynamic duo coursing through my veins.  Ugh!  It was going to be a very long night.

Eventually, I did fall back to sleep, and I was shocked to wake up to the sun streaming through our window.  With the power still out, Mr. Level-Headed and I went around to assess the damage.  It turned out that the crash outside our window was from a piece of the fascia on our roof, which had been torn off by the wind and blown onto a nearby tree.  All-in-all, our home fared pretty well in the storm, and so with some fear and trepidation, we walked around to check out the garden.

GASP!

It was destroyed.

My  bean plants.

My corn stalks.

My tomato plants

It was devastating to sift through the damage.  The low-lying plants like our zucchini and cucumber were unharmed, and, luckily, the tomato plants only had to be secured back up, but the corn stalks were broken and many of the bean plants were uprooted.

 Due to the remaining high winds, the ferry was down, which meant Mr. Level-Headed could stay home and help me salvage what was left of our crop.  I was most upset over the corn because prior to Irene's post-tropical wrath, it was flourishing, but after being hewn down prematurely, there were only three corn left that were ready to be eaten versus the ten that had to be discarded in the compost bin . . . weep, weep.

But, they were awfully tasty!

This is what my garden looks like today:

It's pretty bleak.

Thank heavens I have found some good recipes for zucchini because, guess what kids, that is all we've got to eat until next year's crop comes in . . . 

tee hee!

Garden Calamities

Our garden has been doing so well.  Each day, the kids and I are thrilled with the new growth and our harvest.

This is what we brought in the other day: zucchini, peas, beans and lettuce.

Between this and our basket of homegrown goodness from Harmony Growers, I haven't bought vegetables from the grocery store in, like, forever, and that makes my wallet very happy.

Check out our progress:

Our first head of broccoli popped up this week:

Our ill-fated corn blossomed:

And our cucumbers finally sprouted:

Can someone please tell me why my cucumbers are prickly?  Is this normal . . . will they outgrow it like Mr. Level-Headed suggests?  Or, have I created the next weapon of mass destruction in our humble, little garden?  I can see it now, hordes of ruffians rampaging Shenanigans Inc. to nab their very own lethal cucumber in order to prick their arch-nemesis(es) to death.  Hmmm . . . interesting plot line or simply the ramblings of one soggy, housebound housewife desperate for a little sunshine and beach time with her kidlets?  You decide.

Anyhoo, I digress . . . as usual.

Ooh!  And our tomatoes decided it was time to spring forth . . .

 

Can you tell I am not an expert photographer?



All was well until I, the clueless gardener, decided to head out in the rain to tend to my garden. 



Photo taken by Zoe dearest from the safety of our warm, dry kitchen.
I have no idea what I am doing with my hands, or why I included this photo.



 Okay, who I am kidding, I was taking a breather from the hi jinks of my wee minions, when I decided it was  time to choose the fate of my pumpkin plants.  You see, I had two strong pumpkin plants growing side by side, and I knew that if I wanted an actual pumpkin to grow then one of them had to go.  I kept putting this decision off because it seemed so Darwinian, only the strong survive, and I hoped that nature would intervene.  But in a state of soggy-brain delirium, I mustered up the courage and took matters into my own hands.  From my observations, the plant in the back was the strongest so I grabbed the other plant and yanked her out.  Then I began to pull and pull and pull because, you guessed it, all those lovely vines that were growing along the backside of my garden and I had assumed were growing from the other plant, had, in fact, originated from the plant in my hand.  Oh, the horror!  Then, I discovered the beginnings of two little pumpkins on one of the vines.  I felt sick to my stomach.  I dragged the once lush and lovely plant to our compost pile and wept a silent tear.  As I entered the house with my head hung lowly, I told Zoe about my massacre and like, the loving, understanding daughter she is, she soothed my aching heart:

"Well, it only makes sense that the front plant would be the strongest, mom . . . duh!"

I love you too, dear.

As desperate as all that sounds, I have moved on and now congratulate myself for being a gardening superhero, or an advocate for all things tiny. I laugh in the face of bully plants, who plot an evil garden coup by unleashing their tentacles in all directions to usurp the sun's energy, and I stand up for the little guy.  I gave the tiny pumpkin plant a chance in his hour of need before he could be blotted out beneath the shadow of his oppressor. 

Grow, little pumpkin plant, grow!

Unfortunately, the devastation does not end there. As I headed out to my garden the other morning for my daily check and daily zucchini retrieval, I was greeted by this . . .

Toppled bean plants and fallen peas.  One huge, green mess!

Ahhhhhh!

What happened?  My guess is one, brief but very intense game of tag between a pesky little chipmunk and this guy:

"Who me?  I would never do such a thing". 

But upon further interrogation, his tune changed . . .

"Yeah, I ran through your garden.  Watcha gonna do about it?"

Yes, what am I going to do about it?  The bean plants are easy to stand up again, but my peas are so heavy and so entwined with the mesh I used for them to grow along, the plants snap each time I straighten them up.  Grrrrrrr! 

By now you are probably desperate for this tale of woe to come to its happy conclusion, but we are not through yet.

Picture this.  A happy family sitting around the dinner table with three young missionaries from their church enjoying a spaghetti dinner and garden fresh salad.  Being the gracious host I am, I waited until everyone else had served themselves some salad before I took my portion.  As I placed the salad tongs in the bowl, my eyes were drawn to a grayish brown blob on one of the salad leaves.  A SLUG!!  I looked around the table at my guests to see them happily shoveling salad into their mouths, and I cringed.  What do I do?  Should I warn them, or should I scoop up my tiny friend in a napkin and nonchalantly escort him to our compost bin without anyone being the wiser?

"Um, just a reminder to everyone that the salad is garden fresh, and although, I washed it REALLY well, it has been pretty soggy out there so just be on the look out for any hidden sources of protein in your salad.  Ya know, just saying."

Ugh!

And there you have it, my week of garden calamities.  Hopefully, this rain will finally come to an end, and life here at Shenanigans Inc. can go back to being all sunshine and unicorns.  Hmm, perhaps this is what Scouty was chasing?  Just a thought.

tee hee!

The Garden Coup

I didn't even see it coming.

I was caught completely off guard.

I was tending my darling little garden all in my lonesome, enjoying the sun on my face and the cheerful chirping of my only companions, the birds, when all of a sudden I was being swarmed by armed wee Websters with the desire to usurp my title as "Queen of all Things that Grow" and relegate me to the lowly position of field hand.

I guess I should have seen it coming.

Initially, I tried to involve the children in the planting of our garden.  I asked them to choose the seeds they would like to grow and tend to over the summer, but they quickly brushed this idea off.  "No, thanks, mom, we have more important things to do".  Really, I couldn't blame them.  Their only experience with growing vegetables up to this point was "planting" bean seeds in wet paper towel back in Kindergarten and watching them grow until that fateful day when mama couldn't stand them cluttering her kitchen window anymore and threw them in the compost.  Aahh . . . the horror of it all!  So, I suppose when they saw this large plot of dirt and were told we were going to grow vegetables in it this summer, they thought I was crazy.  "Whatever, mom".

Then, once school came to a close, I assigned them the duty of watering the garden each evening.  They were less-than pleased with this new assignment, but they begrudgingly grabbed the watering can and gave the plants their much-needed drink for the day.

Then, I pushed a little further and asked the kidlets to help me weed the garden.

They were not pleased!

But then something happened. 

Our garden began to grow!

Our plants were growing tall, and we were harvesting some lettuce for our salads.

And they wanted to be a part of it. 

So, on that fateful day, they joined me out in the garden with rakes and hoes in hand, and tended to what is now lovingly referred to as "our garden". 

They even picked their own rows of vegetables to be responsible for.  Avery, who reminds me of myself more and more each day, posted everyone's vegetables-of-choice on the pantry.

I got the leftovers.

I was thrilled!  They caught the bug, and we were toiling side-by-side.  This is what families are all about.

Then, last night, after we came home from a wonderful dinner with lots of friends, Avery and I performed our routine check on the garden to see what new growth or damage had occured that day.  Much to our surprise and delight, this is what we found:

Look closely.  Beneath the flower and to the
right you will see a tiny pea pod growing.

I screamed, "My zuchini and my peas are growing!  They are growing!"

To which Avery responded, in a very serious tone, "Ah, mom, that is my zuchini plant.  Remember the list".

"What?!"

This is where the childish me took over and I began to list ALL the things I had done that out-weigh any authority "the list" may carry.

"I tilled the soiled (okay, Mr. Level-Headed did this job, but I cheered him on), I bought the seeds, I planted the seeds, and I weeded, nourished, and pruned the garden every day.  THAT is my zucchini plant!"

"Sorry, mom, but the lists says it is mine", and he slowly sauntered off back to the house leaving me to rant to myself and the chipmunks.

Ugh!  Sharing is not one of my strengths.

As I stood out there in the dark, hearing the kids plead to their father for just one more hour before bed, I realized that this is exactly what I wanted.  I wanted the kids to feel some ownership over the garden.  I wanted them to experience the excitement of watching something grow and knowing they were instrumental in that growth. And they have worked for it.  They have waterered, weeded, and whined almost as much as me.  So, I guess this is "our" garden.  And like I remind the kids everyday, one person's success is a success for the entire family. 

Ugh!  Sometimes even I can't stand myself!  Who says stuff like that?

I went back into the house and asked Avery if he told daddy the big news.

This time, I didn't even flinch when he squealed:

"My zuccini is growing, dad!".

But, just for the record, I am not changing the sign!

Tee hee!

   

How Does Your Garden Grow?

 Do you know what this is?

Well, besides one devilishly handsome man trying to enjoy his supper, while his slightly neurotic wife takes photos of him. 

Come on . . . take a guess!

That's right!  This is Mr. Level-Headed enjoying his first home-grown veggie from "Krista's Garden".   Oh yeah!  I can grow things!  I can grow things!

And you know what that means . . .

CHICKENS!!

(See here if you really have no idea what I am talking about or simply need a reminder)

I actually did it.  I actually stuck with my project and produced nourishment for my family.  This is huge for me.  There is no end to what I can do now.  First, I grow lettuce and next I will take over the world . . . . muhahahaha! (evil laugh)  oops . . . perhaps I shouldn't let anyone in on this part of "the vision" . . . ha, ha!

In all seriousness, though, I am really enjoying my garden.  I love to watch it grow, to weed it, and to water it.  It is a great escape!  Whenever the piercing squeals of my darling munchkins become too much for my tender ears to bear, I simply put on my galoshes and tell the kids: "mama's heading out to the garden". It's perfect because they know if they even think to come out and find me that I will put them right to work so I am guaranteed at least a good hour to soak up some sun and contemplate even more grand ideas.

My biggest source of happiness these days is watching my two broccoli plants thrive.

In the beginning they looked like this.  They were the only two broccoli seedlings to survive transplant day, and even then it looked like they would need a miracle to make it.

Over the past two months I have treated these plants better than my own kids (tee hee! . . . just kidding. Please don't call Social Services on me), and look at them now.  They are big and beautiful!

I will lose my mind if these plants actually produce broccoli for my family to eat.  I will not be able to contain my excitement, and then there will be no living with me. I will be a master gardener, a master of all things and I will let everyone know it . . . tee hee! (Here is where my siblings shout: "but she already does this!")

These are my tomato plants.  They started out like this:

and have become this:

Here are my pumpkin and zucchini plants:

And my corn, which I later learned will probably not grow because I put it in a singular row.  Since learning this little tidbit of highly important information, I have planted a few more rows of corn, but I don't know if it will work.  Please pray for us . . . I  know I am!

My peas and beans, which seem to grow more and more each day:

And finally, my cucumbers and carrots, which of all the plants seem to be taking their time to grow. 

There you have it . . . Krista's Garden in full bloom!  Did you ever think I would get this far?  I know Mr. Level-Headed didn't, and in all honesty, I am a bit shocked myself.

But, oh, it feels good!