Let me give you a little background: I'm sure I've already covered this so I will make it short. My father is a farmer. Like a REAL farmer. That is his occupation. He grows crops for big companies that we all eat. I'm not sure if the stats on this are still true but as of a few years ago if you ate any granulated sugar there was a high chance that it came from a sugar beet my dad helped farm. Cool beans huh? All my life I remember my dad getting up at some AWEFUL rediculous hour in the morning to go to work. Rain was either good or bad depending on what was growing but I made sure I didn't comment on how much I liked it in case it was bad. He's done it for 25+ years and is a natural at it.
I, on the other hand, am a curse to my genetic heritage. I CANNOT keep plants alive. If I touch the roots, leaves, or even sneeze in the direction of a plant it will shrivel up and die. True story. Therefore when I decided that in order to cut back our grocery budget that I was going to plant a garden, my husband looked at me like I was a blue smurf that had just fell out of the sky. With a few chuckles and a "yeah right honey" look. Aaron agreed to help me get the soil all ready and we planted the next day. Aarons sister and littlest brother came over and helped us plant. It was a fun little bonding experience!
The last one was a personal request of Emily. She just HAD to have corn in her garden. We don't eat enough corn so it wasn't originally in the layout for the garden but since a garden wasn't a garden without some corn I made a special trip all the way to OSH to buy some corn for Emily to plant.
Here's the pictures:
What's gardening without a little mud between the toes?
P.S. my garden is starting to sprout. Well...the basil, peppers and squashes that I didn't touch are sprouting....we will see how "Farmer BlackThumb" does.