This form of advertising must be very effective. Sometimes they don’t even wait for snow to thaw before they send planes over concerts and minor league games where, one assumes, parking lots are full of insured drivers operating oversize grills with open flames. So, no. No disasters there.
Does this wheelbarrow make me look fat? You’d tell me, right?
Left to right: carrots, radishes, beets where no critters molest and no neighbors can steal.
I do love an opportunity to make productive mischief.
What’s all this, then?
Somewhere, I read about folks growing food plants in potting soil bags. I was all LET’S SCIENCE IT! and here we are.
Someday, this mesclun will be fully grown and we will send it on its way, possibly with a peppery vinaigrette.
The squash plants pose like little girls in mom’s prom dress.
I’m a little under the weather. Fortunately, the potato plants are bursting through the straw cover with sunlight on their tiny minds.
Yesterday, Pete resurrected the clothesline, which was damaged during a fall storm and later snapped like a thing that snaps in two useless pieces. Today, it stands as a tribute to Pete’s ingenuity, in stark contrast to the still visible damage from when the renter kid next door accidentally set a fire with cigarette butts and stupidity.
Came up so fast I looked around for giants.
Poor Impulse Control 