Digging in the Dirt...Indoors...in Queens

This time last year, the "creaky bones" were protesting as I knelt knee-deep in weeds and mud, beginning the fruitless battle of The Garden.  Happy days and sunny, cool spring afternoons were spent at the community garden planting onion bulbs, sprinkling carrot seeds, and transplanting tomatillo plants.  Although I knew it was doomed to floods, weeds, deer attack, and drought even before I began, I loved that little oasis of quiet experimentation.  The redwing blackbirds would sing in the trees as the wind waved the protective walls of sunflowers, and I poked around in the dirt, soaking up the warmth of the earth into my hands.  

Granted, my garden was the most forlorn of the entire community (although the crop of onions and tomatillos was astounding)- but it was my patch of land to cultivate, evaluate, and care for.  It was a reason for me to spend time in the sun, and even though the creaky bones meant I moved slower than the other gardeners, I miss it so much.  The people at work call me a "transplant", and sometimes I really feel like I'm going through root shock.

There are no gardens here in Queens (although there is a surprising number of tulips and daffodils in our neighborhood).  But I just can't imagine not growing at least a little bit of our own food, and I don't even know how to cook with dried herbs, so I decided that I would be a window box gardener this year.

The plants were sold on the sidewalk, and the dirt came from a bag, but they're alive and fragrant, darn it, which means that at least a little bit of a world I understand is here in our new home.

This is me taking a window-box-selfie leaning out of our living room window- I'll post a better picture later ; )

How are all of your spring plants coming along?
Lots of love,
~Mersydotes