We have planted a small garden at our house--three little beds with herbs, tomatoes, squash, pumpkins, beans and peas, radishes, carrots, red onions, peppers and very sad lettuce. So far I'm doing a good job taking care of it; watering, weeding, observing, keeping little feet from stomping the plants back into the dirt. Today was a momentous overcast morning...we pulled up our very first veggies. Radishes. The kids thought they were amazing and beautiful, even if covered in dirt. I was suspicious because they were all split and weird looking and was afraid they would taste terrible (radishes already taste odd anyway). We brought them in and they tasted pretty good as far as radishes go, to me at least. MC and P spit them out into the trash. Ah, well, it was exciting nonetheless.
I started this blog today because, as I was pulling weeds, I thought about what a pervasive metaphor my garden was for my life. So much involved to keep it healthy; a little neglect and you're in trouble. I never liked to blog, worried it was narcissistic--who wants to hear what I have to say anyway? I was always the girl in the back of class who never said anything unless I thought it was really relevant (which wasn't often), and got annoyed at people who seemed to talk because they liked to hear their thoughts. So I'm beginning a blog without expectations of "readers," but it helps to record my musings with the thought of an invisible, if perhaps imaginary, audience.
So, we'll see how it goes.
(And yes, Patrick is wearing Mary Clare's shirt...not my doing, not that I really care)
beautiful radishes - even though i think they taste like poo. and i wish you would blog more - i like to read your thoughts :)
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