Normally about this time of year I post a photo of daffodils. In California I had paperwhites, but regular daffodils always struggled. So it has been such a delight to see these guys popping up, all on their own.
I’m not over daffodils by any means. They come up every year, and still brighten these wet, gray days. So amazing. But I have moved on. I now have a kitchen garden.
I edged into it last year. I dug out old seeds and picked up whatever was on sale at the garden center. The stuff actually grew. So, what might happen if I got serious?
I ordered a worm farm, which has yet to arrive. To judge by the look of the guy above, that may prove to be completely unnecessary. I ordered fresh seeds, weird heirloom varieties, kindly delivered by an American friend who was fine with my small order turning into 30 seed packets. I signed up for Charles Dowding’s online gardening course and even got his written approval of my decision to cover the garden with permeable plastic sheeting. And, this is key, I got Julien to do the heavy lifting.
Granted, it’s not exactly permaculture. I can’t live on blue popcorn and orange eggplants. I still have to go to the market. My markets of choice feature locally grown food, but still. It’s fun and close enough for now, I think.
Julien is totally on board with the weird food, especially because he can collect the seeds. He took home everything that needed to be started in a container, so he can water and all as necessary.
And, I think tucked back in there behind the bricks, is a hedgehog, my little bug eater.
I am still such a city kid, but I think I’m going to enjoy this.
Francofoolery 