I feel so productive (and sore): Part II

My weekends are filling up fast. Which is why, when I was planning what to do last weekend, it occured to me that if I didn't make some progress on the planting, I would be looking at a barren wasteland for months to come.

Back to the Union Square Farmers Market on Saturday, and a cool C-note (and a half) later, I have more plants than I can carry at once into my apartment. There are dahlias, and nicotania, and columbine, and coleus; sage, rosemary, cilantro, and three heirloom tomato plants (score!).

Trouble with such a bountiful harvest is that I'm the idiot who has to plant it all. Cut to Sunday morning, and I'm out at 9:00 am trying not to make loud scraping sounds with my trowel. Anyone who has ever lived on a quiet New York block understands that the garden area in the center is like a vast echo chamber. And lest I wake the Saturday night revelers or the moms being allowed to sleep late on Mother's Day, I am being as quiet as possible.

Of course, I ran out of potting soil for the tomatoes (trip to the hardware store), and I still have major bare patches in the shade areas (another trip to Union Square next weekend), but I think I made pretty good progress. Now if I could just get around to painting the chairs.

Barbecue anyone?