Dreaming Vegetable Dreams

Yesterday I transplanted five basil plants by myself thanks to having an IKEA shelf on the porch now to use as a potting bench. The five plants greeted me when I looked out this morning and they look so pretty and cheerful.

Seeds for four kinds of tomatoes and some sage will go in the pots just vacated. These pots are deep enough to give any seedlings a good start and that will allow time for friends to prepare the bigger pots for the tomatoes. These are getting off to a late start, but we can still pick tomatoes into early November here. The leftover seeds should still be viable to plant in the Spring.

My package from Bountiful Gardens came Tuesday and it is so good to be connected again to Ecology Action, an organization that does such good work around the world to promote sustainable agriculture. We do not need to rely entirely on big corporations, making big corporate profits and taking away independence from small communities and individuals. In addition, intensive, natural farming respects the earth and is a form of shepherding and stewardship. Stewardship is foundational to the so-called "green revolution" (and we need to take care of the ways in which that will be commercialized as well.)

I have been eating the first beans from my garden; the first ever beans that have been grown on my land. They are delicious. Pretty too, as there are both green and yellow beans. I am blessed not only by the beans but by the friends who have planted, watered and now are picking them for me. In a very real sense my garden is a friendship garden.

Bountiful Gardens catalog is a temptation. More vegetables than I could possibly ever eat! Herbs and flowers--oh no, not again! This time, I hope that I will remember that each plant gets bigger than I think that it will and needs enough space. (On the other hand my rosemary that I joke is trying to take over the county began as a cutting and is now more than twenty years old.)

Gardening is a life-time avocation. It connects us to the earth--it felt good to have dirt on my hands and to smell the good smell of healthy potting soil yesterday--and to the past and the future. It grounds us in time while at the same time reminding us that we will not always be here. It invites us to be good stewards and to enjoy the bounty, not only of the earth itself, but of our work as well.

I wish that everyone could have a garden even if it is just one potted tomato and one pot of basil. I am grateful for mine.