The sweet smell of defeat

Before you, dear readers, is a picture of defeat. Yes, I know it looks like plants on a windowsill, but trust me, it's defeat. Despite all my fawning, pleading and grow light love, my seedlings are in a sad state of affairs. Actually I think it's suspended animation. They popped their little heads out of the soil, and decided they just couldn't go on. Maybe I brought too much talk of NYS politics home with me and my tomatoes and cayenne peppers thought there is no sense growing in such a crazy world. In my defense, lest you think me a complete horticultural homicide fiend, my peas are doing "ok" and the beans are trying their best. But give them time.

Whatever happened, I bought some tomato plants today at Honest Weight. I just can't count on a seedling renaissance - fresh tomatoes are too important. Just the smell of the leaves had me dreaming of fresh capri salad and BLTs. Too bad my basil is dying. Who would like to start the tomato deathwatch? There are six plants - I'll buy whoever calls the day number three dies some good beer. Heck, whoever picks the right week wins!

The other problem plaguing my garden is also in this picture. I always loved lilies of the valley as a kid. I remember picking them in my great-grandmother's yard and their smell still brings a comforted smile to my face. I was happy to see a nice row of them running along the border between our yard and our neighbor's. We moved in at the end of July, so the flowers were long gone and I tingled with anticipation as they started to pop up this spring. That is, until the invasive little bastards have not only taken over the yard but have laid siege to my raised garden bed. I have more lilies of the valley popping up within in my little pine board square than vegetables. Oh cruel irony.