Well, I've done it. I've "thinned". I can't say the euphemism makes me feel better about it. Here I planted these seeds and they, in good faith, dutifully sprouted. And how do I reward them? By hacking them off at their tiny little base. I can't even cry 'survival of the fittest' as I was the one choosing which ones to eliminate and I have no idea how to choose the best seedling. Should they be taller, or not? More leaves or bigger leaves? I don't know. But, it doesn't help to dwell. They're now in the compost bin, and, as such, they may have a chance to be parts of tomatoes and broccoli after all.
The other victim of my weekend gardening attempts was my skin. While I was fighting to tame the landscape, it launched a covert biological warfare operation presumably in retaliation. From my eyelid to my fingertips are sporadic raised red itchy patches. This delayed irritation method leaves me to believe the responsible party is hoping to keep the broccoli for itself. Either that, or since I was so determined to make a mark on the landscape, it kindly returned the favor.
Luckily for my pottery (and my remaining healthy skin), the rain came today. Dutifully, I started a series of bowls. Unfortunately the benadryl (you didn't think I was just going to stoically suffer, did you?) slowed me down quite a bit and threw me (if you will) off center. So like the seedlings, several would-be bowls didn't make it either.
Tomorrow the dirt is coming to fill raised beds my husband built for me out of wood from our old deck. I have tried to strategically map what should go where in each of the six plots but the data is overwhelming. Compatibles, incompatibles, space between, height, sun, etc. I'm done thinking. I want to get out there and make some mistakes already. Let's do this thing!
I like to throw things.