Spring has Sprung in New Orleans and I’ve got the bug- gardening bug (I’m feeling fine).
The flower bed has been raked.
The Roses have been pruned.
The Clematis has a new path to climb.
The fertilizer has been dug in.
The veggie pots are… I can’t stand the pots. There are too many of them and their different shapes and materials look like a girl going to prom in her sneakers with a piece of tissue stuck to the heel and a seriously bad zit on her chin.
“Ben. I can’t stand the look of the garden!”
“I think it looks fine.”
“Fine? Can’t you see the mess? Nothing looks organized and I don’t have enough planting space! I’m bumping into everything and I can’t grow enough vegetables! I need carrots! I need brussel sprouts! We have to eat! My life is ruined.”
“Well, maybe you need more pots.”
Insert: silent wife laser-eye stare
“Pots I don’t need. I NEED space! Buy me a weekend house across the lake with a yard and birds.”
And so it was, boys and girls, that eight beautiful cedar-lined elevated garden boxes showed up at my door, were magically assembled by fairies, and placed in a torrential down pour.
It was Ben’s idea to put on the castors…
The Gardener’s Supply Co.