Water Water Everywhere

My gardening has mostly consisted of last minute throw-stuff-in-the-ground techniques, as I came to the end of the weekend knowing full well I didn't yet have one seed in the ground. Sunday afternoon I haphazardly scattered the poppies, sunflowers, and Chinese lanterns, and quickly poked the paired-up beans and sweet peas around my beanpoles. Then it was night.

Monday a coworker gave me some strawberry runners, so I slapped them in the ground, and - in complete darkness - shoved the poor asparagus starters in too-shallow holes. These are the ones I had purchased a month and a half ago and left to alternately bake and freeze in my garage, still tightly bound by their rubber bands and encased in plastic. I think I planted them upside down.

I realized today that my morning waterings with the amazing sprinkler system my dad helped me set up might, in fact, not be helping my little seeds, but drowning them.


We'll see. The 90 degree weather yesterday concerned me, and since my indoor plants usually are on the brink of dehydration, I figured that too much water was better than none.

But the complete chaos that is my vegetable bed is counterbalanced by the very detailed diagram I have made of where I will (eventually) plant each seed.


My herbs are alphabetized (aside from the catnip that I didn't want to bury in the center of the garden, attracting the entire neighborhood of felines to parade through). I have noted the date of each planting (so as to help me practice my successive summer planting and ensure a theoretical continual harvest).

Maybe by the end of the week all my seeds will be in. And soggy.