Basil

I think I wanted to take at least one blog to talk about the whole experience of planting the plants in our garden bed.  It was the moment we had been waiting for. So as we walked over to Carlton, I was full from my falafel at Horns and buzzing with excitement to plant our new, well I guess you could call them babies. Their small stalks stretched toward the sun in their small black boxes and white sliver tags exclaimed what veggie they would produce in the future summer months. When we arrived, it was the first time that I saw our two, fresh garden beds. At first all the tile mosaics distracted me across the garden. Their bright colors adding color to the primarily brown and green color palate of the garden. Each of us picked a plant of our own, mine being the Black Krim Tomato (Sorry, if that is wrong Sara) and dug a eight-inch hole into our garden earth with tools supplied by Courtney. On a side note, I would also like to thank Sara for providing the plants and our local Linderman Humanitarian Librarian. Back to the subject, other than realizing that planting and gardening is the most relaxing study break in the world. I also realized the connection I had to these plants. When Sara explained that the basil might not make it (although come to find out from Sara’s most recent blog it will, hooray!), I felt sad and kind of upset at Mother Nature for throwing us this weird weather patterns of warm evenings and frost bitten nights. I wanted the basil to survive, one so I can make pesto, but two it felt that I had a new found responsibility for keeping that basil alive. I won’t go as far as saying that the basil was like my newfound child, but whatever I can do to help the basil survive, I will.