Bedtime | Pickles | Bichon Frise

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It's one of those nights. 

I'm getting ready for bed, my pillows are set, the blanket is waiting and I know that I'm going to hit that mattress and stay WIDE awake for the next 3 hours letting my mind say all the things and fear all the worst. Tonight, I decided to try something different. I ran downstairs and grabbed my laptop because I knew that when my ranting brain started I wanted to catch it all and keep it all. 

So what's the topic for tonight on the wide awake brain of the middle aged woman? 

Should I start that vegetable garden in our rental house or just wait until we move? 

If I start now I could transfer all of the plants in containers and maybe most of them will live and transplant well. But if I just wait then I won't have to spend as much on the materials or double up on anything if some of the plants don't make it. However if I start now then we can start benefiting from the garden, and if unforeseen circumstances have us staying in this house longer than we had expected then I'll have wasted time not starting a garden sooner. Oh, but wait the real question is; do I start the garden from seeds or find started plants, I mean avocados take 7 years of fruiting before you can eat it and I don't remember how to mix soil for cucumbers, but my grandmother had once told me that you have to plan ahead 2 years for the right ones to pickle. Also, it's important to plant some flowering plants near by for pollination, but not the wrong kind and what if we also get a beehive, or coordinate with the neighbors so we could all focus on one or 2 vegetable and then share...like a neighborhood co-op. Even better still we could all commit to one of us raising chickens and I could be the bread baker or the candle stick maker and we could have a weekly swap. Wait, wait, what if we started a neighborhood farmers market and people could come by and we could all have better neighborly relationships and maybe even make a few bucks. My daughter could sell her artwork and my son could play music. You know the guy a few houses down works on cars, we could even offer a clinic and everyone could get their car fixed while picking up eggs from the westhouse neighbors, bread from my house, jam from the lady with the volkswagon, lemons from the corner house and moonshine from the shady folks with the bichon frise. 

Shhh, brain. Shhhh.

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