Saturday, March 24, 2012

I give to thee, my beloved, a pile of dirt.

Since you're all aware of the odd gifts that Bubba gives me, it probably won't surprise you too much when I tell you that his most recent gift was a pile of dirt.

The covered part is the neighbor's. The dark part next to that was where mine used to be before the shoveling.

Like the day a few months ago when I came inside to find him proudly strutting around the kitchen smiling and pointing at me.

Me: Did you start cocktail time without me? Because that is rude.
Bubba: Nope! But *I got you a pressssssssssssssss-ent!* (*implies sing-songy-ness)
Me: Oh yeah?! Is it shiny?
Bubba: But *it's super coooooooooooooooooo-ol*
Me: But I like shiny things.
Bubba: It's dirt.
Me: What? Dirt? Whaddyamean? Are you sure you didn't start cocktail time already?
Bubba: Awesome Neighbor asked me if we wanted in on some mushroom compost and I said HELL YEAH! because I knew you'd want some.
Me:  *raised eyebrow*
For the garden.
Me: *looks at the dog*
The vegetable garden.
Me: *looks out the window*
Because that shit's supposed to be awesome.
Me: *smiles big*
Me: you're telling me that my present is a pile of mushroom compost for the garden? Present = dirt?
Bubba: Yes! Awesome, right?!
Me: YES. But also, I like shiny things.
Bubba: I know. But compost! Yay?
Me: Yay!

So, yeah, you probably didn't need to read that whole dialogue, but there you go. Bubba bought some awesomely earthy smelling (AKA Like shit) mushroom compost which was TAH DAH delivered to my front curb in a heap yesterday.

And then, just as quick as I could get my gloves on and the wheelbarrow to the curb, transported to the backyard and dumped in the beds.


But not before I waved bye-bye to the HUGE fava bean plants.

Remember the hugeness?

Peace out, fellas.
Yeah, it was sorta sad. The bees were finally starting to groove on the fava flowers and I got to watch them fly from the hive to the plants and back and forth, which was kinda lovely, but then I saw a bean on the plants and knew...MUST KILL.

So, I thusly killed.

And then we ate them like the monsters you know us to be.

In broccoli walnut pasta...
In a bizarre impromptu salad of my own devising.

T'wer delicious.

Red onion. Almonds. Dried cherries. Honey Dijon vinaigrette.

Doubly so, knowing that this nutrient heavy compost was out soaking into my soil and would soon be feeding four of my 150 tomato seedlings which BY THE WAY all germinated and are hardening off without fail.

I'm finishing the potting up of the rest of the three-to-a-tiny-cell tomatoes (on the right there) this weekend, which will bring me to around 150 total tomato plants. I'll have the final tally next week. 

Meanwhile, if you feel like nerding out on the garden, I'm on myFolia now (Well, I'm back. I started something in 2008, but haven't done jack with it until a few weeks ago.) and you can follow along there, too. 

If your Inner Garden Nerd needs something to do anyway.


  1. I wish I had a Bubba to buy me soil. I need some!

    Great gift! Way better than something shiny.

  2. Love your beds and seedlings! You know, out here they dump the garden compost right in the middle of our driveway. Doesn't that seem a little thoughtless?

    P.S. Sorry for the bees, but at least you are planting something that will eventually bloom and provide for them. xxoo

  3. I wanted to thank you for this great read!! I definitely enjoying every little bit of it I have you bookmarked to check out new stuff you post.

  4. Why, that's almost as good as maple syrup for Valentine's Day.

    I like shiny things too. But honestly, at this point I would be much happier with my husband mulching the garden for me around June. That's about as unlikely as something shiny, however.

  5. OH man, that man knows you well. And I want in on the fava feast! Did you save any to replant?

  6. My honey's gonna buy me some dirt too, he just doesn't know it yet. It's buried (ha ha) in the vegetable garden improvement budget.


[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.