The peas that crossed the Rubicon

"I feel like I've crossed the Rubicon" I told Leah as I waltzed into the living room carrying a bowl of freshly shelled peas.

Peas were what I dreamt about all winter long. If only I could get them to grow, then, just maybe, I'd officially make it into some type of "successful gardener" club.

Today I harvested my first batch of peas.

Tomorrow we shall eat them in our stir fry.

I had a lot more respect for my parents this evening as I sat on the deck and shelled these guys.

What I remember from Dad's garden regarding peas was a huge "farm and fleet" type of a bucket sitting on the kitchen floor filled with peas waiting to be dealt with. All of us got roped into the massive task of shelling them. I asked mom tonight how many rows we used to grow. She told me three or four, which, considering the size of that garden, was no small amount. Thinking of my tiny patch, I was very foolish in thinking that I'd have enough to freeze. I am maybe going to get enough to add to things like fried rice, but probably never enough for the three of us to have adult sized helpings at one meal. It would've helped if I would staked them properly (I used two tomato cages and random sticks I found in the yard), but even then I am not sure it would've been enough.

Oh well. At least they grew. And hey, it's a start.

I was joy filled as I picked them this evening. They smelled like 202 Elm Circle and brought back memories of stained green fingers underneath the nails and my brother who liked to eat the pods straight off the plants (ew). They also make me feel as if I have finally arrived as a gardener.

Hello world.