Buggies, bubbles, and curious boys

Tucking seeds into their dark beds
Blowing the fluff from dandelion heads
Pointing and jumping at baby buggies
Watching spring peas shoot up
Curiously wrapping
Ourselves around
Each wonder
Each day
Blowing bubbles
Digging dirt
Baring feet
Whispering prayers
Each night
Thankful for growing things
And sunshine
And tiny wings
And wonder
At the waking of God’s world
In Spring

The boys have devoted themselves to dirt and digging this spring. Helping daddy drag and dump mulch around the flower beds. Pouring water until our poor plants are overwhelmed, and I have to call a ban on watering cans. So the boys busy themselves turning on the faucet when I’m not watching and marveling at the water flowing down the drainpipe.

Beds I despaired at a month ago, now flirt with fullness: peas, peppers, beans, greens, tomatoes, basil, thyme, onions, and all the squash cousins: summer, butternut, crooked-neck and pattypan. Not to mention radish and cucumber.

I have a project in mind for my little herb plot. If the plants do well, I’d love to get the boys involved in our local farmer’s market. This is my wish as I tuck the plants in with a little extra dirt, water, and a prayer.

Strawberry plants ripple over the front bed, and I already see green berries that give me hope for a shortcake.

We’ve repurposed the parts of our gazebo that imploded last summer in a late summer rainburst … now they do service as makeshift greenhouses, trellis, and fencing for our little green charges.

The boys have their fingers in every pile and pot of dirt – which made developing seeds into seedlings particularly challenging this year! Fortunately, the offer of bubbles keeps them away most of the time. Our boys love chasing bubbles until their mama is out of breath.

Our baby is particular fascinated to simply whack the dirt with any shovel or rake he can find. I caught him standing atop the mulch pile yesterday, wind in his little blond curls, and singing a baby-song heartily, rainboots firmly planted on his own personal mountain.

To every creeping-crawling-thing, the baby shouts, “Buggie!” with all the enthusiasm of Adam naming the animals. (Thankfully Adam had a wider vocabulary!). We spied a baby grasshopper one day, and have had numerous conversation about whether ants bite, what they eat, will they come in the house, and why Mommy screams when she sees spiders.

And then there’s this hilarious video, when he started copying me. He’d observed carefully as I set out marigolds in various locations for future bedding, and hung pots up. Then he set about putting the flowers where he deemed fit. Even if that required a little throwing action!

This is gardening. Suburbia-style!

What’s in your garden so far!?