I promised garden updates.

This is rather unfortunate.

I spent a whole day planning a garden. I researched all sorts of vegetables and thought about what I would want to grow, and then I made a plan for how I would lay out my garden. The next day I went outside and dug the outline of a rectangle and waited for my mom to tell me if that was a good place to put a garden. You probably won't be all that surprised to find that it wasn't--while the area was sunny in the mid-afternoon, it was really only sunny for a few hours during the day, and that wouldn't work well for actually growing plants that didn't die.

My mom suggested a new spot, on the side of the house, where there wasn't really much room but plenty for the small amount of garden that I needed. Unfortunately, digging my garden in this new spot was put off until after finals were over, because by the time I realized that I needed a new spot and where to put it, I was sort of overloaded with writing papers. Write write write write write. (Next semester will be so much worse--four English classes! AHHHH!)

Well, since my finals finished, I went outside the other day. I'd like to say that I was going outside to finally dig my garden and get it all ready for planting, even though it's sort of late in the season, but really I was going outside to sit under a tree and read and enjoy the weather. I did, however, glance over at the area that my mom said would be a good garden place--it was COMPLETELY shaded, and it stayed that way until it started getting dark out.

I glanced wistfully at the shovel and rake I've kept by my back door and realized that, well, this is just not the year for me to start a garden. There isn't a single area in my yard that gets more than a few hours of sun a day--or, if there is, I haven't found it yet. I'll be looking out for it, though. Maybe this summer I'll notice a sunny patch somewhere random that I wouldn't have thought to look and my garden will happen next year. I'd like that.

For now, though, I think it's time to buy some potted tomato plants and maybe some herbs. They can live on the big brick patio that, sadly, takes up all the sunny yard-space. And now, some Langston Hughes to capture my mood:



What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Should I be this sad about not having a garden? And, more importantly, will my lack of garden explode?

I mean, it's not like I'm ever home to take care of it anyway.