Community Garden

Last year, I discovered the magic of the westside market, and suddenly my fresh vegetable options were endless... or mostly fresh anyway. Now, I'm going to have my hand at gardening. I've helped out in the garden since I was very young. There is, in fact, an infamous family story about the time my cousin Jesse and I wandered out to grandpa's garden and picked all of his green tomatoes. He was less than thrilled, obviously. Even so, I have never had the chance to plant a garden and labor through the whole gardening process.

I did try at indoor winter herb garden in the window sill. Some mint, some oregano, and a pot of basil. After all the long weekends we do in Michigan, however, not even the mint survived inevitable dehydration. I'm not good with indoor plants as a whole. In junior high, I even managed to kill my mother's cactus given to her at her high school graduation. I think I overwatered it. As a plant caretaker, I have something of a black thumb.

But then, indoor plants aren't really a gardening. And maybe my thumb won't get in the way too much.

The Episcopalian church I've been taking my son to for Sunday school has decided to open a community garden out back. Four inch by fourteen inch plots. To be planted by early June. I'm thinking heirloom tomatoes. I'm thinking eggplant, zucchini, cucumber, red pepper. I'm thinking Kale for the fall. I'm open to other suggestions and rather excited about my first attempt as an honest-to-god gardener. By this time in July, I hope to be swimming in nightshades. Olay!