Hope Springs Eternal

In the Pacific Northwest, a little sunshine can go a long way to making people do crazy things. Like, say, plant tomatoes before Memorial Day. The recent atmospheric phenomena has brainwashed the cynicism right out of me. Memories of last summer's incessantly rainy and cold June and July have given way to that sense that maybe, just maybe this will be the year. So I trot out the walls of water and dig and turn and rake and voila! before me is a fledgling little garden with big dreams.

Carrots and yellow wax beans are still slumbering under the soil; sweet onions lie dazed on the ground as if they just got hit by a sudden nor' easter; snap peas and sweet peas are just learning to climb the netting; the peppers are looking around asking, "where's the heat?" The garlic planted in October wants to know what happened to all the peace & quiet in the neighborhood.

Walla Walla Sweets trying to muster the
strength to stand up on their own.

A jalapeño settles into his tanning bed.

Getting these things to grow is one thing; Mother Nature will come through sooner or later--she always does. The bigger hurdle is getting the Daughter to consume that which has come from the earth. To borrow a sentiment from Chicago Cubs fans, this could be the year!

Author's note: This was drafted two weeks ago, and the greenery is starting to take hold as we head into the Memorial Day weekend. Beans have put up their first set of leaves, the carrots have grown to a towering 1/4-inch sprouts, and the tomatoes are fighting their way out of their winter blankets. As for the Daughter...well, she ate some lettuce tonight. It's a start.