Woodchuck Gardening

Time for another garden update! Wheee! You know you're excited.

When we last left our seeds, they were newly-planted and still a mystery. Would they germinate? Would they sulk in the soil like angry teenagers refusing to come out of their rooms? Or would they bravely poke out of the soil and start growing, only to be cut down in their prime by a stupid cutworm, IN THE BATHROOM?

All three, as it happens. Most germinated; some, like that bastard hot pepper mix, never came up at all; and more than one seedling was snipped off by a cutworm, despite the fact that the seedlings were still inside. Totally bizarre and frustrating. So I decided the only way to save them was to re-plant them in different pots and different soil. I needed to do it anyway, because the ones that survived that asshole cutworm were getting too big for their little toilet paper roll pots.

Now. I have heard tell of people who go to Home Depot or wherever and stock up on all the supplies they might need for gardening: pots, soil, plant markers, etc. I know these people exist, but I am not one of them. Here's how a woodchuck plays it.

Leftover potting soil from when the MiL planted flowers for the wedding? Check. Old pots in odd sizes retreived from the chaos of the barn, plus some saved sour cream and yogurt containers with holes poked in the bottom? Check. Plant markers made from cut-up cottage cheese containers and a permanent marker? Check. Thirty-year-old trowel? Check.

And there you have it. I didn't actually have to buy anything to pot these things up. And despite the admittedly trashy supplies I used, I still think they look awfully pretty after their transplanting.

But then, a mother always thinks her babies are beautiful.

I am fond of standing there gawking at these tiny little plants in their small pots and imagining the pounds and pounds of tomatoes and eggplants that will eventually come from them. I have a lot of spare time on my hands, obviously.

So, let's just all keep our fingers crossed that nothing else mounts an attack against my defenseless seedlings and they all manage to make it into the ground. It's the uncertainty that makes gardening exciting, right? Right.