I have a love/hate relationship with my garden, as many of you know. Mostly it’s love. Really. I love growing my own food, and I love the excuse to go outside and graze like a cow. (Ummmm. Maybe not like a cow. I don’t stand out there and eat grass, or anything. But I’ve been known to park myself by the cherry tomatoes, is all I’m saying.)
On the flip side, I do hate bugs. All bugs. Many, many bugs. And I’m not super-fond of my yearly “quality time with the children” fantasy being disrupted with petty concerns like “It’s HOT OUT HERE!” and “I’m getting eaten by mosquitoes!” and “Why do you hate us?” Is a little help in the garden so much to ask? Oh, well.
Regardless, I do think there’s enormous value in growing food with kids, no matter how whiny they are. (The kids. Not the food. If your food is whiny, you’re doing it wrong.) So I wrote about it for Alpha Mom, and I hope you might try it yourself if you haven’t already. There’s nothing quite like a salad from your own back yard, trust me. (Also there’s nothing quite like a child gazing up at you in adoration and saying, “I thought this was a really stupid idea but I guess it’s okay after all because you made those dumb zucchini into brownies.”)
My children actually learned to enjoy vegetables – fresh from the garden is the best. Absolutely the best. Gardening, as you know, is cheaper than therapy, and you get tomatoes instead of a bill.
Teach me your ways wise one, I’m the Grim Reaper of plants it seems. With the exception of lavender. I managed not to kill that.