Anywho. When Mr. C and Mr. J got home from school, I was hit with the most important gardening question ever known to the short people...."when are we planting the watermelon seeds?". And when they say "we" that usually means, mom- you totally don't mind that I volunteered you to do this by yourself...k, thanks. To answer them I acted like I didn't hear them with my aggressive tilling style. Mamma's got goals to meet.
Surprisingly, they both started helping me flip the last of the boulders and pull out tree roots. Mr. J eventually wandered off when he realized the watermelon seeds were not going to happen *at this very moment.* Get off him, he's 8. He had a bunker to build.
So, it was up to me and Mr. C.
Mr. C being our token autistic kid, read every seed packet and measured for our row spacing. This was pretty neat to see him take part in something and I could use the help to make this whole process go by faster. Silly me. He's the very structured rule follower. Once I hoed (the BFF is right, I kinda giggle when I say that word) the rows, we started to put the seeds down. Mr. C with his measuring tape began to measure his seed space. JUMPING JESUS ON A FREAKING POGO STICK. It took forever. And the whole time he's telling me he may need to know how to do this later in life. For what!? The apocalypse? End world hunger? Mid day snack? All I know is, if you have a seed packet with 50 seeds in it, and a kid measuring said seeds out 3" apart with his measuring tape.....YOU WILL BE THERE ALL FLIPPIN DAY.
At the end of the day Mr. C and I had planted
- strawberries
- sweet peas
- cilantro
- parsley
- bell peppers
- mixed peppers
- lettuce
- brussel sprouts
- corn
- jalapenos
- cayenne pepper
- green beans
- garlic
- cucumbers
Huh. I really thought the lines would have been straighter.
ReplyDeleteGuess he's not autistic after all.
hahaha...i wondered why mandy asked if i clicked on the link on her blog...now i know why! i'll add you to the list of blogs i stock every morning...oooh something to look forward too!
ReplyDelete