…and pretty maids all in a row

Aren’t they beautiful?  The fancy french radishes, and black seeded simpson?  All lined up in a row, reaching upwards towards the warm sun.  Grow, babies, grow!

My grandparents immigrated to Canada from the Netherlands after World War II.  My grandfather was a gardener in Holland, but in Canada he stirred paint for GM to pay the bills.  When he was home he tended his magnificent garden.  Even as a child, my sister and I knew that his garden was magical.  You could walk out into the garden and pick yourself any wonder of things to eat: carrots, peas, beans, tomatoes, cantaloupe, cucumbers…  Don’t even mention all of the flowers that he tended just because of their beauty.  I loved that place.

In the years since my grandfather’s passing, I have come to love gardening myself.  It is one of the ways that I can provide for my family, much in the same way my grandfather did.  Digging in the dirt is also where I feel most connected to my ancestors.  Each plant in my garden has a story which comes flooding back once you start to wander through my gardens.

This year, I may have gone a little nightshade crazy.  No, seriously.  I have 11 different varieties of heirloom tomatoes that I picked up at the public market, and a ton of Matt’s Wild Cherry tomatoes seedlings that sprung up after the harvest last year, and I think a half dozen of some Romas from a friend.  And then there are the peppers.  My husband loves spicy food so we decided to dabble in hot peppers this year.  Now I have about 10 hot pepper plants too.  So stop on by if you planted some basil or cilantro… not so much if you are on a macrobiotic diet.

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