Last week, on Wednesday, I planted peas. It was glorious warm and Holly for din and there was a debate, as the day stretched to evening and I chopped with the hoe and the girls spun the swings, about how they should be tied, 'this way or this way,' in which Zelda helpfully participated by wondering if we shouldn't just do them 'this way and this way.' I rolled them in their black bath and plopped them into bed just as the darkness descended.
Yesterday I moved the two trays of starts from their schizophrenic basement environment to the plant buffet by the North window. Just today they grew a new leaf each. They are pale and wan. That horrible basement. There are cabbage, escarole, lettuces of many sorts.
This evening, after hot dogs on the deck, I began to make a space for them in the third bed by pulling out and gleaning the bolted kale.
Today I made a bouquet.
Perhaps tomorrow a few seeds, raked in hopefully? Spinach, radishes, mache, arugula. Perhaps.