The tree falls not far from the acorn

If you would like to meet the person who created the redfox you see before you, I am delighted to announce that my mother has discovered the delights of foodblogging. It is filled with recipes and her reflections on life and food, and is in every way a pleasure to read -- much better than mine. Go see!

Meanwhile, we have just had a long weekend, which means that I felt a strange desire to engage in physical labor in the out-of-doors. Many of my relatives, being English, have absurdly fantastic gardens, dense and gorgeous in that tidy-untidy way that is characteristic of the genus. They are also always apologizing for them. "Oh, well, I haven't really had the time to keep it up this year," they say to you as you stare at the beauty. Perhaps as a result, I have always been a little nervous about gardening, and sure I would have a black, black thumb. And indeed I may well; it remains to be seen.

This weekend I have been planting things for my new kitchen garden, such as it is: three kinds of basil, cilantro, marjoram, tarragon, thyme, and lemon balm in pots on the back porch; lettuces in the window box outside our bedroom window; and cherry tomatoes, eggplant, and catnip in a little strip next to our fence. (Catnip is supposed to be a good companion plant for eggplant.) Fortunately, our landlords live on the other side of our duplex and garden in pretty much the whole backyard, so I don't have to feel responsible for any more plants than I want to.

The back of our house is a southern exposure, so both the containers and the little strip against the fence get plenty of sun with no problem. The window box with the lettuces, on the other hand, has a northern exposure. Whether this will mean that it's too shady for them to grow at all or whether it will just protect them nicely from what would be excess heat and sun of early summer is an open question. It is an experiment, and if it works out I will be amused to walk upstairs to the bedroom every time I want to make a salad.

The best bit is now: the plants are all in their places, and I am changed out of my muddy clothes, drinking a fine bottle of beer, and feeling unjustly but throughly virtuous. Happy Memorial Day.

Posted by redfox at May 30, 2005 06:38 PM (etcetera)

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