I do not have a green thumb. If the Mother's Day flowers I got at church are any indicator, I'm going to kill the garden I just planted. Those flowers, despite watering them every day since last Sunday, are laying prostrate against the ground. Poor, poor, pitiful flowers.
When we found out that we are hopefully going to sign another lease here (the only drawback to living where we do is the commute to church) we--and by we I mean, of course, I--decided to plant a garden. The extent of my gardening was watching my mom's grow when I was a kid. Occasionally she would send me up on the hill with a bowl to fetch some tomatoes. And that's about it. But with the rising cost of groceries and the rising appetite of my toddler, I decided that we should plant a garden and live off of zucchini. I'm assuming that's even possible. There is, after all, no sugar to speak of in squash. And you all know how I like my sugar. Troy and I spent the majority of yesterday and today weeding, tilling and then planting tomatoes, zucchini, strawberries, corn and butternut squash in the main garden. I have virtually no idea what to do with a butternut squash but I like lots of other members of the gourd family and Troy really wanted to try it. We'll probably hate it and it will be the only thing that doesn't shrivel right on up and die. We also planted watermelon seeds in another section of our yard. The package said to plant them six feet apart and, since we didn't have six feet to spare in the main garden, Mr. Watermelon had to be planted all alone. Mr. Watermelon also does not have a fence around him to keep the dog out. I fear for his little life.
If you know me at all, you know I pretty much loathe yard work. I have a feeling that keeping the weeds out and the plants in is going to constitute a great deal of manual labor. Also, being that I am a daughter of Eve, I received my punishment with that whole pain during childbirth and my husband will rule over me thing. (Genesis 3:16) It is my husband, the son of Adam, who received the whole cursed is the ground, through painful toil you will eat of it bit. (Genesis 3:17) But somehow I have the feeling that this garden will prosper or fail based on my doing. I'm betting on the second one.
And really, to steal a line from Kerri Pomarolli, "I read Proverbs 31 and it did not speak to me at all. What would I be doing in a field? I don't plough." This is the problem. I mean, that Proverbs 31 woman is like Wonder Woman or, at the very least, She-Ra. Not only does she consider a field and buy it. She plants a vineyard. She has strong arms. Her trading is profitable. She selects wool and flax. She rises when it is still dark. She extends her hand to the needy. She wears good clothes and, apparently, even makes her own comforter. Her children called her blessed and her husband praises her. Her lamp does not go out at night--neither would mine if I did all that. I'm still standing there staring at the field, wondering if maybe, without any effort on my part, it will just sort of take care of itself.