Anticipation

Planting tender garden flora in the springtime is always a game of Russian Roulette in the upper plains. Our finicky temperatures can be down right hot for a spell, luring us into an early planting session. Days later, the weatherman starts squawking about freezing temperatures during the evening hours. The seed babies under the ground usually fare quite well as long as they haven't poked their heads above the soil level. The seedlings, however, need temperate conditions to get their little bodies acclimated to their new environment. 

My husband is a master gardener and I give no advice other than suggestions for the vegetables I want to work with for the upcoming season. He has a favorite greenhouse that is about a forty minute drive from our house. I usually do not go with him because my ability to focus on all that greenery is rather short-lived. This year I decided to accompany him in desperation for an outing. After a year of isolation, it is time to take baby steps back into reality. The drive to the greenhouse is through the countryside so the scenery is always pleasant. 

My plan at the greenhouse is straightforward. Follow my husband around just long enough to look interested. Upon reaching the herbs I make a few suggestions as I check out the different types available and enjoy sniffing their different fragrances. After that burst of interest, I usually notice my husband getting lost in what I call his "garden zen". He has his nose buried in the plants, carefully selecting just the right seedlings for a hardy start to our garden. Soon enough, it is time for my exit and I head to our vehicle where I am prepared for an hour or two of waiting. It was a beautiful day so I rolled down my windows to take advantage of a comfortable breeze. I was prepared with plenty of reading material, a bottle of water and a few snacks. 

There is also a fair amount of people watching for entertainment as well. My favorite was the older gentleman who was stationed by the entrance of the greenhouse. His job was to make sure the plant carts were ready for the shoppers. This job seemed to be perfect for him. Nothing too physical but plenty of human interaction. I heard him say he was 89 years old and I found myself hoping I might be fortunate enough to have my wits about me at that age. My guess is that his job was flexible enough for him to come and go as he wished. Not a bad gig.

One characteristic all the shoppers seemed to share was a general sense of joy and anticipation. I do not always witness this in other retail settings. I may personally experience some joy as I put a bag of Cheetos in my grocery cart, but as a general rule, my shopping is often a git-'er-done experience. It was refreshing to see so many folks excited about their purchases. 

The amazing element in the whole greenhouse process is the risk factor. If I buy a can of beans, I have a high likelihood of enjoying them with a meal at some point. A bean plant, however, is facing a number of challenges before ever producing a single bean. Hail, drought, soil, insects, fungus, rabbits and birds are just a few characters in the on-going drama of gardening. But, any gardener or, in my case, harvester can tell you that the final show is work the risk. I am already salivating over the first plate of fresh beans and sliced red tomatoes. 

Happy gardening!