All the seed catalogs have been delivered and I find myself salivating over pictures of luscious vegetables. I am lured by the pictures and descriptions and find myself tempted to buy enough seeds for a garden twice the size of what I have. This year I have promised myself to draw a diagram of my garden and measure the reality of space against my hunger for fresh tender green, orange, yellow, and red things. I will not rely on memory to determine how many seeds are saved in the freezer. I will stand firm because I know a family of four does not need 10 varieties of tomatoes, 4 types of green beans, 5 types of peppers, 4 types of squash, or 2 or three types of eggplant unless they are setting up a roadside market, and we are not.
Before the ground is tilled, before the seeds are planted, before the weeds begin growing, and before the summer temperatures rise above 100 and the mosquitoes are out for blood, an enormous garden seems so easy.
I will not be tempted. I will not be tempted. I will not be tempted.
But that Sweet Valentine lettuce with red ruffled leaves looks so delectable, and so does Tango lettuce with frills of green. How about a sweet pepper with the irresistible name, Lipstick? Can I leave it off my order? Wouldn't that Green Zebra tomato look fantastic with my German Stripeds. Should I try an orange tomato like the Valencia? My husband requires daily salsa made with three different tiny tomatoes - the yellow pear, Matt's Wild, and Sungold (orange). Should I deprive him?
I need help. I truly have a sickness.