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?)