The last few years we’ve dabbled in gardening. My husband likes to refer to himself as the urban gardener. He has a penchant for giving himself nicknames so we just go with it.
We’ve had mixed results and near all-out failure last summer. After a false start in March, we seem to be on a roll.
Our spinach, kale, arugula and mixed lettuce greens are thriving. We see great progress from our beets and soon we’ll have just about every herb at our fingertips.
A first foray in to growing cucumbers also is showing hopeful possibilities.

Interestingly, we get quite a lot of enjoyment from our container garden. Already, I was able to get a full bowl of lettuce from our garden to make a salad. And yesterday, I was able to add some of our harvest to our green juice.
As the next few weeks go on we should have more and more. Every day we are called to see how our garden has grown. There is something therapeutic about growing a garden, even one as small as ours.
It keeps me tuned into the weather and Mother Nature in a way I am not otherwise.
I find myself welcoming rain so my plants can “get a good soaking” or thankful for a hot, sunny day because I think it makes them “happy.”
It’s less about how the weather affects me and more about my humble garden.

It reminds we how we are all connected.
We all need the food supply, we all need the rain, the sun, the wind.
Having a garden of my own keeps my eye keen to my neighbors as they tend their plots of land at the community garden across the street.
It’s a diverse area and it’s not uncommon to look out and see older ladies in saris and young kids in t-shirts and flip flops working their land. Again I am seeing we are all connected.
When I see this each day it makes me smile.
Not only is our garden growing but so is our community. We are growing together.

Sunshine & Sarcasm,

Lowi & G