I am so excited about our Farmer’s Markets waking back up for the season. The delicate Easter radishes, baby lettuces, and freshly cut ranunculus woo me in with their beauty. I immediately have visions of tea parties with radish and salted butter tea sandwich.
I admire all the little baby plants poking all their green shoots up asking to be taken home and put in a pot of dirt. But this is when I must have an intervention with myself. The skills I have in the kitchen ABSOLUTELY do not translate to the garden; my thumb is not green in the slightest. When I fail to remember this about myself because I am lusting for green after a chilling winter I will get flats of flowers and herbs to plant. This is just the first step in the plant massacre to follow. Apparently, plants don’t enjoy being seriously over crowded in pots to the point they must competitively kill each other. Another thing that plants don’t thrive from is erratic watering- as in don’t wait for the dirt to become Sahara dry before you decide to unleash the gardening hose monsoon.
All this being said, my utter lack of gardening skill is what makes me so grateful for the farmers in our community. It is a luxury to be able to walk the stalls of the market and collect the beautiful bounty of other’s efforts. So I will forget gardening and instead love spring in all of its glory with the flowered trees raining petals in the breeze pronouncing the arrival of picnic season!