Garden Separation Anxiety

Why is it that when you know you're going to be away from your garden for any period of time you feel such separation anxiety. My greatest inclination right now is to fall to my knees, hold on to my boxes, and reassure them I'll come back. I want to whisper to my broccoli they'll be just fine for four days, kiss my half sprouted beans goodbye, love on the okra with thoughts of true leaves emerging while I'm gone, and encourage my cucumbers to climb with all their might so I'll be proud of them.

It's also at this point that I begin looking for a 12 step program to suit my needs.

Yes, I'm being neurotic, but it's all (okay, mostly) warranted. Things are at a precarious stage. Most plants are just emerging and my broccoli is almost ready to come off. I'd pull a head probably Saturday and I'm worried that two more days out there will start letting the head loosen. I just pulled a green caterpillar off of my broccoli that had built himself a cocoon. He was not in the least bit happy and made a run for it. I caught him, but you know his buddies will come looking for him soon.

But how exciting is it going to be to come back and see how things are going now that the temperatures are where they should be for this time of year. Imagine the mass upsurge of growth from things that have been next to stagnant unto this point...carrots, I'm talking about you. You can't continue to drain me of my space and give nothing in return. Where's your sense of responsibility. It's time you think about maturing...

It will be fun to see family, I'm going to a wedding in St. Louis. The man, the boy and the girl are staying home, and I'll truly miss them more than my garden. To keep them close to my heart, I'll most likely take pictures of them to show the rest of the family and delight in their oohs and ahhs at how much they've grown. And...I might just throw some pictures of my garden in the mix as well for good measure. I wouldn't want the little, fuzzy tomatoes to get jealous, you understand.

:)

The morning comes early.
Sweet gardening dreams.