thai basil // packing the car // zucchini
I found Thai basil at our local nursery! The happiness and positive energy I feel when selecting herbs, vegetables and various pots for our small seaside garden is uplifting, at the very least. I float around the aisles of seedlings, towers of terracotta pots and walls of shiny garden tools with a vision of what my future, flourishing garden will look like. I imagine myself coming home from work, slipping into my soft apron and collecting fresh vegetables from my very own successful garden for our dinner. In this green dream, I am lost for choice from long zucchinis to plump tomatoes, fresh ginger and lime, bulging purple aubergines, carrots, baby cos lettuce, spicy red peppers and more herbs than I can point a trowel at.
We pack my small car to the roof. A nursery pot sale! Can you imagine the treasures we have found? We cart bags of mulch, potting mix, compost, pots, hanging baskets, wire hooks and a few tiny herbs to the car, packing carefully between old blankets. Byron requests varying lengths of treated pine to build a planter box. Once on the road, we manoeuvre around each bend in the road slowly, to avoid damaging our precious, fragile cargo. Once home, we unload the car with all the enthusiasm of children lining up their new toys after Christmas morning.
the keen husband // gardening break // spray
Several hours in, we break to water the neighbours slightly more established garden. Their open, gorgeous thriving garden is a flurry of busy bees, tiny spider webs, zucchini plants with impressive stalks, and tiny green tomatoes on their way to ripening into a bold red. We fertilise with diluted worm juice and return home to continue with our new garden. Unsuccessful, neglected attempts from last year are pulled from the ground and returned to the large compost bin. They will eventually contribute as plant food for our new vegetables.
repotting spring onions // baby limes // green tomatoes
My spring onions have taken off, thanks to the liquid gold worm juice in the bucket sitting next to them. We dilute the rich mixture one part worm juice to nine parts water that has collected in buckets from the previous rain shower.
The ground is watered, our fingers are dark with the soft earth, our torn jeans have grass stain on the knees, and our faces are sticky with the sweat of labour. We sip white wine and continue until the sun dips lazily in the sky. Byron sands the last piece of pine for his planter box, then we sit on our front steps marvelling at the transformed green space before us. We did this. We created a garden. We stretch our tired limbs as we gaze up at nature's light show before an impatient puppy drags us to the beach for our evening stroll.
This is living green. I love my green home.