Growing up, we had intricate landscaping put in by a previous resident. With black lava rocks and evergreen bushes, it was very dark and retro-70s, like much of the house. My experience with gardening consisted of Mom handing us shoeboxes and telling us to pull weeds on hot summer afternoons. She would pay us a set price per box we filled – usually a dollar or two.
In my apartments during and after college, I started quite a colony of houseplants, sharing cuttings with friends. I abandoned most of them when I got my cat, since it turned out most were poisonous to her.
My last apartment had a great little balcony. I installed planter boxes on the railings and tried to grow a variety of flowers and vegetables. I got a bit of basil out of the experiment, but not much else.
But in the house, my latent green thumb has come to life! From my first stab at zinnia seedlings the first spring to a series of ceramic pots lining the driveway, each boasting a different herb or vegetable, I’m starting to get the hang of it. And this year, I realized that waiting we’re past the danger of frost to plant outside means no blooms until mid-June at the earliest.
In addition to my tulips (now in their third year!) which are starting to come up of their own volition, I started a bunch of seeds in egg cartons out on the front porch. There have been some cold mornings but I think it’s just warm enough to foster life.
And I’ve got my first attempt at lettuce, going gangbusters. The zinnias and nasturtiums are starting, too, as is the basil. I can’t wait to get it in the ground.
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