I don't have much space to garden at our home. There's a little bit of a soil along our front walkway. I planted hostas along it the first spring after we moved in, and 9 years later, they completely fill in the space. That's wonderful, because it means I don't have to weed or plant flowers in the spaces between the plants, like I used to have to do.
About 5 years ago, Greg made me a small garden in the backyard that's surrounded by landscape timbers. I've always grown tomatoes, and I've tried peppers and basil. For the last two years, I've worked late most weeknights, so I haven't kept up well on my weeding. This year, I still haven't gotten any plants in my garden. Earlier today, I finally planted something in the pots on either side of the driveway.
I may get the garden worked up later tonight or tomorrow, after it cools off outside, but this is definitely the latest ever that I've gotten my planting done. I tell myself it'll just mean that after everyone else's tomatoes are all finished, we'll still be getting gorgeous homegrown beauties. Pure rationalization, yes, thank you.
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