Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Apocalypse

I've been remiss in my blogging duties. All I can say is it's been a heckuva month. End of school, parental visit, launching a grog, turned in a book, plotting another series...I've been *busy*.

My friend Martha believes in being prepared and her comments a few weeks ago totally spurred me to take action. I started my apocalypse garden. Prior to this awakening, I had a couple of tomato plants in a pot and some herbs by the back door (which if I don't say so myself, for a plant killer are looking pretty good) I've discovered a secret--fertilizing them regularly makes a really big difference. This isn't to say that I didn't fertilize before but clearly I didn't fertilize enough. Now look at these tomatoes!



So this past weekend we (and I use the term 'we' loosely, I picked the stuff out, figured the dimensions, and how to construct then left the actual construction to the husband) built a 3 x 3 planter box. Then today I forced, er, asked the kids to go with me to pick out food plants. We planted green beans, lemon cucumber, zucchini, cherry tomatoes (someone stuck those in the cart when I wasn't looking), green bell pepper, and cantaloupe. And look how great it looks.




Now I just have to convince the family that they will love eating everything in that box. And since I'm prepared for the Apocalypse, I can get back to writing...happy Summer!

3 comments:

Martha Flynn said...

whoa whoa whoa.
until we work out a rainwater barrel collection and irrigation system, you are not in the clear.
and you need to figure out where you're going to put the poop. there's no plumbing in the apocalypse.

Adrienne Miller said...

So I see Martha's particular brand of crazy has rubbed off on you. Happens to most people. Nothing to be ashamed of. Just breathe deeply into a paper bag for a while and you'll return to normal in no time.

Lisa Hughey said...

A-Actually, I think it's more my farming roots shaming me into becoming some sort of gardener. My great grandma was a kick butt farmer. Isn't it genetic?? Shouldn't I be able to *not kill* plants?

M-everyone knows you bury the poop. Just not in with the plants....