The tomato plant is out of control. I'm pruning that one, too. It's stretching across pretty much everything and well beyond the stakes. Happily, it's growing tons of tomatoes, but sweet Jebus, it's startling how massive the thing would get without intervention. And I hate pruning. It makes me feel like I'm amputating a living thing against its will because it has the audacity to thrive.
The green beans are already being harvested. It's like every time I go outside there's more beans. My immediate future is going to contain beans. Beans, beans, beans.
I spend a portion of every day out in the backyard tending to the garden. I weed, water and prune. It's relaxing and pleasant, but the Dude and I are already making mental revisions to our garden for next year.
For starters, no onions or carrots, fewer pepper plants and in a different area, only one pumpkin and zucchini plant (They come in pairs, so we planted both), relocation of spices, relocation of beans plus proper structures for them to grow upwards, and the addition of potatoes.
And what does all this mean? It means we're staying put for once. I finally feel satisfied. I've moved because of neighbour issues, and now we're below a terrific lady. I've moved for office space and now I have one. I've moved for more affordable rent, and this place is well in our budget. I've wanted air conditioning, the right to paint, a bigger kitchen and outdoor space and it's all here!
It's taken many a move, by George. From the Annex to the Village, to Parkdale, to Christie Pitts to here, first upstairs and now down, all in 7 years. Everyone's always on my case about moving, and rightly so, teasing me about needing my current address since it's been a few months and I may have a new one. But this place has been worth moving for. And I think it's the backyard that's done it for me.