Where my love of gardening began…

I am five - maybe seven - my little fingers deep in the dirt - not uncommon, but now in a purposeful way. My dad’s hands along side mine, as we dig trenches for potatoes, little mounds for zucchini, and thin lines for carrot seedlings. Now I see myself in the greenhouse, my eyes peering over the tall table top, my nose filled with the musty earthiness of damp soil, to see shoots of lime green leaves emerging for the first time towards the sun. The warmth of the greenhouse always brings a gleeful anticipation of the becoming. And oh the wonder! As these little lime green leaves became huge as we put them down into the earth! Spiralling tendrils filled with green beans (as I would merrily hum “beans beans the more you eat the more you toot!” and giggle to myself), bushes full of red tomatoes, and treasures underground of bright orange crunchy carrots. Not that I always liked my veggies at the time, but it gave me a deep appreciation for where food comes from, my dad’s hard work and love for us as he prepared his green beans with his famous “green bean sauce” (essentially a lemony, mustard butter sauce). Maybe it was the time I got to spend with my dad, the connection to the earth or just the wonder of it all, but just like those lime green shoots - my love of gardening started growing and has become quite… expansive, to say the least.