Here's my gardening plan thus far - rip up a bunch of used tissues, scatter them in the wind, watch some 'Rob Dyrdek's Fantasy Factory' and call it a day.
Not at all, really, though. Gardening has consumed me, and not in decent ways. For one, my plans have outsourced - my original, space-friendly "All by myself" idea of containers was nixed, and the original "Hey, could I use some of your land?" query has turned into "I hope you don't really like that tiny dogwood tree you planted as a memorial for our dead dog when I was eleven, because I've got crops to get in." No. The cardboard coffin and dogwood are staying. Probably. Yeah, no, totally, they're staying.
Yeah.
But now other family members are in on it, who are renting or have limited space and suddenly "I'd like to grow some cherry tomatoes" has turned into "Well, why has no one talked about chickens in a serious tone of voice yet?" Come to my farm, guys, except it isn't mine and it isn't legal and don't bring your children because I don't even think there are any band-aids in the house, on the land, that isn't mine.
This is what we all want, though, right? When obsessions become group efforts they are way less creepy. I can talk about the difference between organic seed and basil strains with someone at a normal volume, and not just sneak it in to the conversation like "That's great she's going to be making 45K right out the gate, at 23...I would just like to know your opinion on beets."