This year I'm trying to grow things ... on purpose.
So, after I dug up the dirt and Skimbleshanks and I took turns sifting out most of the rocks and other junk, my big bruddah installed those posts and the lattice. (Very cool: the lattice is plastic ... no painting! However, once the gate is installed, that will have to be painted. Oh, well.)
So far, I've planted lettuce, carrots, and, green peppers (seedlings).
I've planted some peas, pumpkins, and cantaloupes in a different spot, again hoping 1) that they actually grow and 2) that they'll send their vines up, over, and around a preexisting structure (swing set/fort combo). If they cooperate with my plan, the result should be pretty cool. I believe that the squirrels have been raiding the pea spot, but that's OK. What they haven't figured out is that there's another row of peas planted on the other side of the structure. We shall have to see who wins this battle of wits. Stay tuned.
On the other side of the shed I've planted some herbs. (Yeah, yeah, I know it's messy; I don't have the "tidy" gene, so sue me.)
Time to share one of my favorite growing-thing secrets. It may not be a secret at all, but when I was a kid, I just thought it was the neatest things around. So, here we have your basic honeysuckle.
The flower shown here is a bit too open, but you'll get the idea. Anyway, once it's open, you hope for rain. After the rain, you have to climb the tree and make it out to a blossom. Look inside and you'll find a very small puddle of sweet, sweet nectar. Climbing the tree, shinnying along its branches to the flowers, and sipping that sweet liquid is one of my favorite childhood memories. Of course, as an adult, I feel a bit queasy at the thought of just how high I climbed and how far out on those branches I went. Oh, well. Isn't there a saying about God watching out for kids and idiots? Buddha must have been exhausted every night when I was a fearless little tomboy.
Oh, one more flower. Here's a rose. This little guy just keeps hanging on by the skin of its teeth from year to year. I've decided that the kindest thing I can do for it is to just keep my distance.