gardening dependence

Some friends came over to help me with gardening stuff today. As i am 80% inept at things involving plants but not involving a stove, it was more like I sat there making question mark faces and pointing out things with fancy leaves and pretty petals and got a bit of dirt under my nails while the more knowledgeable types did all the actual work.


Cameron showed up just in time to do the heavy lifting.


I may not be terrible at gardening; my giant pot of basil and parsley has survived for several weeks since re-potting, and that was even before we had a hose to water.


My herbs are no longer in individual pots sitting in a giant tupperware storage box, either! I opted for strawberry jars because they are adorable, compact, easy to shift inside for the winter, and allow me to put multiple things in one pot but still keep track of what is what (see the 5 varieties of thyme in the one? amazing!).



We also tackled hanging baskets for my front porch; this was a bit more of an adventure due to the shoddy construction of the hanging chains that snapped almost instantly when we picked the first one up, comically spilling plant matter and dirt all over the steps of my deck. It was really too funny to even get pissy about--the plants seemed only moderately battered so we shoved them back in, fixed the chain, and crossed our fingers as we hung them up.


all of this was apparently too much excitement for Cameron. After generous helpings of leftover pomegranate iced tea, homemade potato salad, and awesome 6 layer dip (we couldn't think of anything to use for the seventh and final)from yesterday's BBQ he just rocked the fuck out on my couch. I took the hour of peace and quiet to wash the rest of the party dishes and meticulously clean my stove's glass cooktop. Now if you will excuse me, there are leftovers, beer, and Gerard Butler movies whose siren song is entirely too strong to resist.