A Garden should be planted with Love

Because the weather has been getting all perfect and warm lately I've been getting the itch to plant my very first garden... ahem, our very first garden, sorry love; especially since the guys I work for told me I can take a plot outside the office and plant as much as I want. I've been thinking about it lately and I've decided that the one thing I insist on putting in the ground is watermelon, and zuchini... oh and definitely peas, and corn maybe, ohhh and cantelope, and herbs and... well I think you get the point. I mentioned my excitement to the guys I work with as I'm having little delicious watermelon dreams in my head.

"Well now," one said cutting into my dream state, "a garden takes time you know, it should be planted with love."

Now, you have to understand, I work with construction guys. You know, the type that grunt and have cool indian tatoos and grow ridiculously long intimidating beards during the winter to "keep warm". So when they say a garden needs to be planted with love - it must be true.

All I could think of was the one other garden I've had in my life. I'm the youngest and smallest of five which meant I got the last two rows of our family garden. These two rows just so happened to be right next to the wild raspberry bushes also known as: The Dead Zone. Nothing grew there, well I guess some things grew there: gobs and gobs of weeds.

To make a long story short, I never weeded, and my garden turned into a cemetary.

You can see my worry now that i've explained my gardening history. I need a book, I need to research and I most definitely need a few really green thumbs. Because I know that if I plant this garden and I don't follow through, I'll look like a puppy kicker.

And no one wants to be a puppy kicker, especially when that puppy belongs to your boss.