M's grandma's house has places with great sun exposure for vegetable growing. It also has places we're allowed to put a pot. It also has places where the dogs won't destroy everything. Nowhere, however, has all three.
So M and I spent today managing a semi-peaceful takeover of the end of my mother's garden bed at the other house we hang our hats in. It's a railroad-tie bed with organic fully amended soil in a side yard with southern exposure, the Holy Land of vegetable growers. There's dark green plastic fencing laid over the soil to discourage cats from doing what cats do in fresh dirt, so planting involves snipping away the one-inch squares until there's room to reach through the grid and dig.
We put in six red onions, three cloves of garlic, a zucchini, two muskmelons, Nantes Coreless carrots, red-cored carrots, Snowbelle radishes, and three bushes of edamame/soybeans. The soybeans are supposed to like this climate. The pot of lavender along the side of the bed is another story. The inside of the packet says that if they don't germinate in four weeks, we should pop them in the fridge for three weeks and try again. Seriously?
So I have dirt everywhere. This is good. Also, Etsy sales picking up, which is fantastic. Listing daily really does make a huge difference. Of course, at this point I'm selling something like one item for each twelve I list -- which is a weird way to do business, let me tell you.
And apparently the bridal store I'm consigning to didn't actually take my $1100 dollars retail worth of jewelry and take off running with it. In that week of total radio silence I was getting worried.
Learning experience, I keep telling myself. It's a learning experience.
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