I suspected my husband was going to be rather surprised at my online expenditures on seeds for our spring veggie patch. I know I was surprised when I finally added up my total.
Somehow I had forgotten that step. I remembered only after all my purchases had arrived in the mail from the three online retailers where my search for specific seeds was successful.
I had succumbed to fantasies of fresh lettuces, tomatoes, squash and other goodies marching in lush and tasty array from our garden to our dinner plates. The work to start some of the seeds, to sow others, to transplant seedlings, to weed, weed, weed, and to pick and wash the produce was not part of my fantasy.
I also blissfully ignored the reality that our available sunny garden space is miniscule. There is no way that we have the sunny space or the stamina to deal with nearly $40.00 worth of seeds in a single season.
And only Mexico Midget was a variety we had experienced growing. It was
our favorite of four cherry and currant tomato plants we planted last year.
Yesterday after I started this post, I ’fessed up about my online shopping. Husband Walter already knew. I had forgotten that he checks our credit card accounts almost daily.
“What farmer are you going to hire to deal with all those seeds,” he queried. I presented my case: We would have spent that much on four trips to the movies providing we went for the less expensive matinee.
“But we don’t go to the movies and you didn’t factor in gas, popcorn and Coke,” he fired back.
“Exactly,” I replied. “We don’t go to the movies, so I am counting the seed purchases as entertainment.”
And entertainment it was. I had spent quite a few hours during the recent icy weather salivating over enticing photos of vegetables, reading descriptions full of promise, making selections, and savoring the prospect of getting grubby from working in the garden plot.
Garden fun--The little tomatoes of dime-sized diameter are Mexico Midgets, a favorite from our 2013 summer garden.
Hubby was a good sport. How good was he?
- He engaged in discussion about the veggies he wanted most to see in our garden this spring. I love gardening conversations;
- Later, on a quick shopping stop for other items, I picked up one of those little nine-pack trays of red sails lettuce. He just paid and said not a negative word;
- Then he planted them for me;
- He covered the baby lettuces for two below-freezing nights; AND
- Even though he had cautioned me about the unfavorable weather forecast, he hasn’t said “I told you so” a single time. . . yet.
Now that is being a good sport.