I’d shared with Cameron some of my memories of gardening as a kid. We had a huge garden, and my sister and I each had a small bed in it to call our own. With guidance, and within reason, we were allowed to plant whatever we wished. So when he wistfully asked if he could have a garden of his own this year, how could I refuse?
Er. Well. At first, it was easy. Where? We’ve got garden space, but none of it is really the right size or location for small gardeners.
But Cameron made it clear, he’d take anything.
So, I expanded a little strip of dirt I’d had zero luck with last year, pulled out all the buttercups and other weeds (I’m starting to have a serious dislike for buttercups), augmented the soil a bit, and lined it with wood to try to create a line of demarcation between “lawn” and “garden”. Cameron and Kate each got half, and with some guidance planted a little bit of everything we had on hand.
They took their job very seriously.
Kate was meticulous about exactly where to place her strips of carrots and beets. She was distressed at the lack of space – how could she fit it all in there? She still has a lettuce plant she got at a street festival that needs space, but … where? Cameron was just thrilled to be putting seeds in the ground, and tended to take my instructions as nothing more than very loose suggestions. But that’s okay. They’ll both see. Gardens are fairly forgiving, as long as the right elements are there.
Now, two weeks later, things are looking pretty good!