Okay, for those of you who were impressed by my early, grandiose descriptions of my garden... this is what really happened.
The flower house was a bust. I planted too early while everyone was still starving. The bugs ate the morning glories and the birds ate the sunflower sprouts. I planted again and nothing came up. Now it's getting too late. I give up.
Here are the edibles growing in the yard as I write:
One Honeycrisp apple tree, wee but busting out all over in healthy foliage;
A healthy and productive raspberry bush, with a bumper crop starting to form;
Some rhubarb from John's mom's yard struggling to survive its transplant;
4 varieties of Garlic from Salt Spring Seeds. Only the 'Quebec' strain is thriving (unless the others are supposed to be teeny and yellow, not too likely) but 'Quebec' is doing great--it practically looks like corn;
Several random patches of parsely;
The usual vibrant chives;
A pot of rosemary on the porch;
Some small spring onions in a raggedy circle out by the tent;
Wild strawberries on the front lawn;
A plot of something Charlie planted. We're not quite sure what, but I'm starting to suspect broccoli. Whatever it is, it's growing well.
Okay fine, so it's not the permaculture smallholding I envisioned, but for only my second year of gardening (not to mention the year I started a business and learned what it's like to have an extroverted 3 year old) I'd say I'm doing okay.
And am I ever grateful for our local farmer's markets? Hell, yeah.