Preparing and assessing

I'm waiting anxiously for my safe-to-plant-in-the-ground date and wondering if there's something I'm supposed to be doing out there that I haven't been doing. My outdoor preparations have involved a lot of staring and trying to decide if things are weeds or plants, which I think I'm getting a little better at.

Indoors, I've planted seeds and I must admit I was a little surprised when they actually sprouted. It was like a small miracle on my back porch - tomatoes and cucumbers rising up into the world. I tend to them by talking to them softly and checking to see if the soil is light brown, which would mean it is time for me to add water to the tray.

I was surprised at how miniscule the foxglove seeds were and indeed, the foxglove sprouts are thin and wispy little things, almost invisible. The cucumbers, on the other hand, look strong and tenacious.

Outdoors, we've had two frosts since things have begun to sprout and grow. Both times, I covered my beds and that seemed to keep everything safe. There was one crinkly looking leaf on my butterfly bush, but a lot of new growth has sprouted since then, so she's fine.

I've noticed that something has been digging in the flower beds. The holes remind me of the time I planted tulip bulbs one morning and came back that afternoon to find them every one dug up and spirited away. This time, I don't know what the digger was looking for - no harm done, but I don't like the way this is starting out.

It's led me to consider building an ugly wire contraption around my tomatoes. I'd prefer not to do that, but the squirrels and I need to come to some sort of an agreement. I like them just fine and I realize they need to eat like everybody else, but I don't want them to think of me as the proprietress of their very own late-night, all-you-can-eat buffet.

The time is coming to figure it out because last weekend we built the raised vegetable beds. Tracy made some measurements and drew up a plan, but when we got to the store, they didn’t have lumber in the size we needed. We improvised and ended up with larger, squarer beds than we’d imagined, but I think that’s just fine, especially since I’m going to be growing melons.

After the building process which, I confess, involved a lot of me just standing there while Tracy swung the hammer, we set out to look for dirt. Last year, when I grew tomatoes in a planter, I filled it with a few bags of organic potting soil. Having no concept of the price of such things, we happily returned to the garden store to buy what we knew would be a large number of bags of the same soil to fill our beds.

"Wait," Tracy said as I reached for the first bag. He pulled out his handy calculator and informed me that enough soil to fill our beds would cost roughly $500.

Bags of organic topsoil were noticeably cheaper, so we agreed to do a little research and left without making a purchase. Fortunately, we have plenty of gravel at our construction project next door, so we can put that in the bottom of the beds for drainage, and a gardening neighbor is going to send us some information about soil mixes. We should have them filled by the end of this weekend.

Intuitive gardening in Kentucky

Last summer I walked into my backyard in Lexington, Kentucky, looked around, and decided to become a gardener. Along with assorted flowers and a butterfly bush, I planted Big Boy tomatoes. I got a late start with them, but green-thumbed friends assured me that I could put the plants in the dirt and have tomatoes by the end of the season, so that's what I did. I chose a container that I thought would be big enough and bought some stakes and even tended my plants through a drought.

The flowers and the butterfly bush flourished. The tomatoes, despite growing much taller than I anticipated and desperately needing a larger container, did okay too. I watched in wonder as my plants actually produced tomatoes. I watched the tomatoes get bigger, go from green to reddish. And I watched as one by one, every tomato I grew was plucked from the vine and eaten by a squirrel.

This year, I’m eager to get back into the dirt with lessons learned from my first run. In central Kentucky, "Derby" is not just a horse race that takes place the first weekend in May, it's a season, and everyone tells me that's when I can start putting things in the ground. So I'm starting my seeds indoors and planning to plant in a raised bed that I have yet to build.I have a list of non-violent organic methods for keeping the squirrels away, and I plan to use them all.

We’ve been recently pummeled with rain but as soon as it let up a few days ago, I pruned my butterfly bush and weeded my flower beds (I may have accidentally pulled up a perennial or two) and I’ve spent a lot of time lately just walking around out there communing with my space.

You may have gathered by now that I’m an intuitive gardener. I love books, and I consult them, but when it comes right down to it, I feel my way around the outdoors and hope for the best. I tend to choose plants because I like their names (thus the moon and stars watermelon seeds that I recently purchased) and flowers because they look like something a fairy may want to sleep in.

Last year, my goal was to attract hummingbirds and butterflies, and to have a nice place to sit while I enjoyed my fresh tomato slices. The hummers and butterflies didn’t let me down. This year, I welcome them back and add to my dream the prospect of meals of homegrown veggies, with watermelon for dessert.