It was the perfect distraction while we picked up plants, seeds, and soil amendments. Which, by the way, usually means manure. Gardening is so glamorous.
We got home and dumped the left over popcorn in with the chickens and got down to the serious business of planting. We raked and turned the soil and then added manure and compost. Then we watered. And by watered, I mean both kids were completely soaked and insisted on running through the house to change into swimsuits.
In January.
Thankfully, we live in a part of California that is currently experiencing a very spring like heat wave. Their lips, while trembling, only turned the palest shade of blue.
But the soil was watered down.
Satisfied we weren’t going to kill anything from the lack of moisture, I got out my bulb digger – which, by the way, is the perfect size to dig holes for four and six pack plants. I filled the area with holes while the kids loosened the plants from their plastic packs and gently separated the roots. They plopped them in the holes not caring that strawberries were mingling with bok choy. Then they patted them down, stuffing dirt in all the small spots.
Which meant they had to wash their hands.
Which turned into a water fight.
As everyone got dried off, Joseph looked at me and said, “When Mrs. G asks me what my favorite thing to do with my family is, I’m going to tell her it’s gardening.”
And that made the muddy footprints, the slimy leaves tracked across the house, the soaked rug, and the piles of misplaced dirt totally worth it.
