This weekend Nathan and I had the opportunity to play outside, since grandparents were visiting the baby, I mean us. I re-sowed cucumber seeds where Sam dug them out last weekend; this time I planted straight eights instead of mideast prolific cucumbers. And Nathan devised a solution to keep Sam out of the beds, at least until the veggies are sprouted and grown up a bit. He cut sheets of wire mesh fencing to lay over the beds. The weave is wide enough to let plenty of water and sunlight through to the soil, but the fencing should still make the veggie beds less attractive to dogs. *fingers crossed*

After re-seeding the cukes, I planted a couple of African irises in a bed against the house. With a name like that, they’re obviously non-native, but I think I have a good case for planting them anyway. The bed I planted them in doesn’t receive much light, and African irises are supposed to tolerate shade reasonably well. Their 2-foot-tall, sword-shaped leaves contrast nicely with the purple and white trailing lantana that I’d already planted in the bed. African irises aren’t on any of the lists of invasives that I’ve seen, and they’re supposed to have low water requirements, too. So I’m being a bad nativist and giving them a shot:

Finally, I planted herbs in a set of square containers that I picked up at The Great Outdoors last week:

I planted chive seeds in the large green container. The lavender container holds chocolate mint, and the small mustard container holds peppermint. (I wanted some mint plants, but wasn’t brave enough to unleash them unfettered in any of the beds.)

Thank you for all of your kind comments on my last post–it’s helpful to hear words of encouragement from other gardeners who plant things in spite of their dogs, and the perspectives of other mothers who have survived the experience of parenting young children with some of their own interests intact. I look forward to meeting many of you at Spring Fling this weekend.

I’d like to share a quote from an essay I was reading this morning on reconciling Buddhist meditation practice with parenting; sometimes a little validation goes a long way, and I have a sense that many of you may appreciate the sentiment expressed in the essay, too:

The work we are doing as parents is often on the scale of picking up toys or cleaning scraped knees, yet it is joyous and vitally important. Our children will shape the world to come, and especially at this precarious time on earth, what is more vital than raising sane children who are compassionate and have an inkling about the world’s interconnectedness! 

-Amie Diller, “Practice at the Hearth.” In Dharma Family Treasures, edited by Sandy Eastoak.

May all children be happy and free from suffering, and may all mothers find the time to plant some veggies (or herbs, or whatever it is that they want to plant).