January thaw. The garden beckons. Spring is coming. I’m buying seeds to suit my garden dreams.
Gardens have a finite size. No matter how many books come out about squeezing more plants into less space, the only way to have more space is to make a bigger garden. Bigger gardens mean more work. Mine is big enough.
Rationally I should calmly assess how last year’s garden worked. What grew well? What did we eat? What did we like? What was a waste of time?
Buying seeds is not done rationally. Not by me. Well, a little.
The catalogs make everything look fantastic. Those gorgeous vegetables look delicious.
We love corn. Corn takes lots of room. Raccoons love corn. I don’t grow corn.
Winter squash is wonderful. I love growing pumpkins. Both take lots of room. How many can two people eat? The goats don’t mind eating the extra.
My diet needs more greens in it. Not everyone in the household agrees. However, I have friends who love the extras.
Rutabaga is one vegetable I rarely have any luck with. I love this root crop. It hates the Ozarks. I persist.
Spinach, snow peas and peas are on the early list. Yard long beans are on the later list.
Potatoes are definitely on the list. They grow so well. I do plant fewer as we can’t eat them all.
Four summer staples are on the list. Okra, summer squash, sweet peppers –both colored bell and long ones – and tomatoes will be in the garden. I always seem to end up with many more plants than planned for.
Buying seeds is such fun. Garden dreams are so wonderful. Reality sets in about June. By then it’s too late for rationality. The garden will again become a jungle, a delicious jungle, a frustrating jungle.
And I will do it again next year.