Small Things

Small Things

We arrived home from our Hawaii vacation this weekend, and it was obvious that the sunny days Washington has been experiencing of late has done our garden good. The microgreens and spinach had sprouted and our pear tree is in full bloom. It’s a multi pear, so each branch has different blossoms. The pink blossoms are my favorite…because I’m such a girl. 
While feeding Sam lunch yesterday, I noticed (for the first time) that he is starting to show a preference for certain foods. I scattered turkey meat and strawberries on his tray, and after tasting the first strawberry he began carefully picking each strawberry piece off his tray, bypassing the turkey meat. Only when he had finished his strawberries did he begin eating the turkey. I don’t know why I found it so fascinating; maybe because it was the first time I’ve ever seen him establish a clear understanding of the difference between two items…it’s not rocket science, I know, but as his mother, I feel like this makes him the next Albert Einstein. I’ve become THAT parent. 
Here Comes The Sun…

Here Comes The Sun…

We had our first grouping of sunny days last week and I jumped at the chance to work in my garden. I only have one raised bed, because the yard is too small for anything else. I like to think of it as my “practice garden.” That way, when we move onto the farm, I’ll be a professional gardener who produces a beautiful and bountiful crop every year without any mistakes (Don’t knock my fantasy, please.)

I mixed in fresh compost and planted my first crop of mixed greens, butterhead lettuce, baby carrots and spinach. Once it’s warmer I’ll add basil, parsley and cilantro, but here in Washington, that won’t happen until mid-June.

This was Sam’s first time playing in the grass and he had an amazing afternoon (or so it seemed anyway). He played in the raised bed, ate dirt and leaves, (even though I pulled everything out of his mouth, I’m pretty sure a few pieces escaped my prying fingers), and most importantly received instructions from his father on how to use his pushcart. The last part didn’t interest him too much. He was much happier crawling inside and letting The Man push him around. To each their own, I suppose.

(BTW, did anyone else notice my knees look about twice my age? How did that happen?)

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