There was no plot.

...or at least it appeared that way until I showed this weed-o-rama to the compost pile.

A dream of mine is coming to realization this spring. I have space to garden! I am splitting a community garden plot with someone in Evanston. It's a 3 mile bike ride, and totally worth it.

This is the first time I've had anywhere but containers on the back porch to plant since my Grandma gave me my own row of carrots to tend approximately 18 years ago. You might remember those days--when you plant the seeds one day, and show up the next expecting to have a carrot waiting for you. I'm a little more advanced now, and thankful to Grandma for teaching me how to uproot a dandelion intact and step on a shovel to dig deep.

 I went out there for the first time yesterday and spent a couple hours taking out thistles and other unwelcome growth. Here's the garden before I did anything to it.:

 

And here's my first bed, weeded. Except for that one plant, which I thought might be an herb, and didn't want to uproot until someone with more knowledge declared it useless. I totally love weeding--in the same way I relish scraping paint (maybe it's even akin to picking scabs??)--getting rid, getting rid: it's so satisfying.

I cleared my other, larger bed today. Now I need to fertilize and decide what I'm planting--I know tomatoes and herbs for sure--and flowers because I got several packs of flower seeds as a wedding favor recently. I need to do some research.

This garden spot is something at the top of my "Joy" list lately--I am very excited about the whole thing. I love being out there, working with the dirt, doing physical labor in the out-of-doors. Learning to grow things is an essential, perhaps even the most central, part of "relearning the wheel."