The Bloomin' Garden and other Mid-Life Crisis Moments of Note

Thank you God that tax day is behind us, and we can get on with our lives.  So this week, it's a little work and then taking some time out to smell the ocean and the berries.  Lucky me that my work takes me to beautiful coastal areas where the sun shines brightly, like Fernandina Beach, FL.  Lord, I have found the place that I want to retire. Incidentally, since it is Easter weekend, there will be some obligatory praising of the Christian deity.  I don't know how many times I have been to Fernandina Beach for work and never actually went to the beach.  Well, after the 8 hour drive out the day before, I was feeling a little reluctant to get back in my car for the reciprocal drive back.  A leisurely walk on the beach picking sea shells is just the thing.  Look at the shells and smell the salt air.  Ahhhhh. 

An hour later, back in the car, motoring west on Hwy 520, it's pretty boring.  It's pretty boring for at least 4 hours.  Wait, there is a sign with a big strawberry painted on it.  Quick, u-turn and cutting across 3 lanes of traffic, it's a u-pick strawberry farm out in the middle of nowhere on the side of a highway!!  Suddenly, I am not in such a rush to get home.  I look out over the small field - maybe only 1/2 acre and walk up to the farm stand.  "Sure, here is a bucket - $1.50 a pound, pick as much as you like!"  I'm in heaven.  A quick 25 minutes later, I am $5.30 poorer, but 3.5 lbs of berries richer and smiling like a kid who has both sweet berries and dirt in my mouth.  A little dirt never hurt us when we were kids.  Just because I am an adult, there is reason to think that it will now. 

Now, that I'm back home, I can concentrate on my own berries and such in our garden.  Well, there are a lot.  The cage we built was great - until a bird got in and then couldn't get out.  Luckily, someone was around to let the poor thing back out.  Only a few berries pecked, we have our own harvest ready to be picked.  Tomato, bean (wave 1 and 2) and pepper plants are growing in the ground.  Dill and basil are everywhere.  The corn is in, and the okra went in today.  Only the eggplant seedlings are left to strengthen a little before they go into the ground. 
While we were pulling some weeds this afternoon, my sweet hubby says to me, "Are all those tomatoes??" as he points to a frame full of seedlings that aren't weeds.  And I reply, "The two with the trestles around them are the climbing vine full sized tomatoes.  The rest are some form of grape or cherry."  And he says, "Um, I thought that we were going to go easy on the tomatoes this year."  And I start to explain that there are 3 varieties of miniatures, and I couldn't just plant one of each in case they didn't seed, and . . . nevermind.  So I just say that I got a little carried away.  For additional moments on getting carried away, please reference the last blog posting and pretty much everything that I planted last year.
Final 2 carried away moments this week that I am going to attribute to a mid-life crisis.  1.)  I just registered for my first half-marathon.  Pretty ballsy for someone who hates to run.  Training to start eventually.  All I know is that since I shelled out $155 for the registration, there is no way that I am going to not do it.  2.)  In a previous life, namely, my 20s, I had crazy short, buzz cut boy hair.  And then it grew to something that resembled a porcupine that mated with Robert Smith from The Cure.  More than a decade later, I'm goin' back in time, baby.  Someone send me some giant dangle-y earrings.