Murder and A List of Dreams

I have a confession to make.

...

I’m a murderer.

I kill with alarming regularity... One could even say, seasonally.

Yes, I kill plants.

Every year, I say, “This will be the year! This year, my seeds will sprout, my basil will live through the season, and my plants will not wither and die!”

Every year, I’m wrong. Woe-fully wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

But this year...

To be fair, last year I almost made it. I used my basil plant on more than a couple occasions, half of my seeds actually sprouted up, and I even bought a palm tree for the porch. 

Then Ryan was born.

We were doing really well to keep both of us alive on a given day. Leaving the house with both of us wearing pants was victory worthy of an endzone dance. The plants never stood a chance.

But this year...

Ryan’s older, pants are overrated, and we’re going to make it!

So I’m researching plants, what’s worth starting from seed, what I can grow with the sunlight I get on my porch (mid- to late-afternoon) with the amount of space I have (approx. 10 x 13 feet), what zone we fall into (8b), what in the world that actually means, and whether or not I want to attempt a potato drum or tea garden (yes to both!!).

The list of things I wish I could cram onto that porch is astoundingly long... Truly impossible. Visions of home-canned tomato sauce dance in my head, I want to brine our own pickles, and the cats have to get their organically grown catnip from somewhere other than the streets. (Seriously, you can grow catnip. It’s hilarious.) 

Hopefully, as the season progresses, I’ll be able to share how we’re using the space we do have to it’s greatest potential. Think vertical, my friends.

This is the year!