You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you. – Psalm 128:2

Tons of rock. Yards of soil. Comparing the relative values of heirloom seeds vs. organic starts. Six trips to the nursery to puzzle together a jigsaw of drip irrigation in order to conserve water. Recognizing the necessity of planting a patch of softly flowered ground cover for the puppy to poop on instead of the peas.  Hours and the dollars involved in ripping out my tiny side yard and moving, Novella Carpenter-style, toward my fantasy of gathering the ingredients for a salad fresh every evening and never having to use a plastic bag for lettuce again. Finally, my new garden is starting to flourish.

Within the first couple of weeks, thanks to the organic starts, we were able to eat a couple of romaine lettuce salads, toss bits of arugula and mixed greens on hot grilled pizzas, and steam tilapia on fresh kale and bok choy. But I’m been most gratified, not to mention touched, so see literal fruit blossoming from my labor:

cherry tomatoes:

pickling cucumbers:

squash blossoms:

Meyer lemons:

and strawberries. First like this:

then like this:

The unseasonal rain showers we’ve had certainly have helped. So have the liberal sprinklings of Dr. Earth I’ve been adding. Even at the risk of turning into the crazy zucchini lady, pawning overgrown fruit off on unsuspecting neighbors, I’m looking forward to what comes next.

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