Gardening and parenting: a note to self
Mirrored from Twisting Vines.
If I intervene with horrified shrieking when Leon plays with dirt and hoicks things up now, he is less likely to be positive about the garden later on, at an age when he can learn the difference between ‘weed’ and ‘not-weed’. It is therefore worth sitting on my hands as dirt and plants go everywhere. (The volunteer broccoli raab from the satsuma tree pot may survive; the rocket certainly won’t but there is plenty of rocket.)

Scattering dirt is fun!
A corollary: any potentially vulnerable plants that I really seriously care about are going to need some form of defence. I’m thinking in particular of my carefully-nursed autumn olive seedling, the sole survivor from a handful of seeds I stratified last winter and planted out in the spring, currently overwintering on the windowsill.
It was a lovely afternoon to be out in the garden, though. I planted peas by the fence, and Leon ate moss and dirt and threw soil around by the handful. Happy times.
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Not to say you have to uproot anything that might be bad for Leon, just put it where he can't get at it (like behind some chicken wire or netting).
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Scattering dirty really is fun, too!
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**FIXME and **TODO have a fave game at the moment called "potions", which is filling the paddling pool with water, mud and weeds, stirring and laughing. Appropriate-sized long-handled tools help, as well as hand tools. **FIXME is doing actual useful weeding as a part of the process (he's done more than I have this year) which is great. But them enjoying it is even better.
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