I need to learn a lesson in quiet contemplation from this garden goddess in my friend Andrew’s yard… between my work travel (70%+ of my time) and the CRAZE that is spring garden season it feels as if I’m always running around and never getting enough done. And the unpredictable Chicago weather doesn’t help either… it always wants to rain on the weekends when I want to dig.

If any of you are mothers out there you may detect that I’m winding up to something…

Yes, you’re right, I haven’t planted my Spitfires yet.

HOWEVER, to be precise, I haven’t planted them in MY garden yet. I did plant some in my friend Andrew’s garden on Sunday so let me tell you about that instead.

Andrew and Rolo are having their first garden ever and like many new gardeners there is a lot of excitement, and a bit of apprehension, with this new hobby. They’ve been very good about following my instructions for amending the soil, spacing the beds, putting the paths in, etc. They have also been very resourceful in reusing materials they’ve found. When my husband, Peter, and I toted over the seed stash and the garden tool caddy on Sunday they were ready to go.

They contemplated the stash and made some preliminary selections while I messed around with the spade to flatten out the growing area. After a brief discussion I realized I have a thing against growing carrots but that’s the subject for another post. And then, as we got to planting, I realized how many bad habits I have acquired as a gardener.

Andrew: Should we mark everything?

Me: Nah. You’ll know what it is when it grows. (We were planting three types of beans in turn in a long row against a trellis covered chain link fence.)

Andrew: Not even the first one? (A little disappointed.)

Me: OK. The first one of three.

This went on a bit as we continued with the salad bed (mesclun mix and New Zealand spinach) and the root bed (arugula sandwiched between a beet assortment and French breakfast radishes). In terms of the markers we compromised somewhere between the beds looking like a porcupine and unmarked graves.

Peter and Rolo had since disappeared to talk about the stereo system and eat more leftover paella (will garden for food). Andrew trailed up to join them and that’s where the Spitfires came into action (I hope he’s not reading this.)

We’d already put two mounting types of nasturtium at the ends of the beds (I have mentioned before that I’m a nasturtium freak). And while I was looking at that chain link fence covered with Home Depot lattice I wanted nothing more than to cover it up so I figured the beans could use a little help. And how pretty the Spitfires would look between the purple, Italian and asparagus pole beans (maybe that’s why I never mark things – I have a photographic memory for plantings. Right.)

I was able to push aside all the lovely compost they had so tenderly applied and made a spot with the regular old garden variety dirt so the Spitfires would have lots of flowers.

And then I wandered upstairs for a piece of orange pound cake.

Instructions were left (between mouthfuls of cake) to not pull anything until I can inspect the week I get back and we put in the “hot” crops – tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, melons. We can argue more about markers then… and I can be giddy explaining the unmarked stealth Spitfires.

“I’m growing Nasturtium “Spitfire” for  the GROW project. Thanks, to Renee’s Garden for the seeds.”