I've seen the future and it contains pie

I'm not sure how this happened, but I'm slowly turning my back yard into a farm. I've even started looking at urban chicken websites.

The tomato seeds I planted in March are now 8-inch plants, almost ready to go into the sunniest, warmest part of the garden. Beside the tomatoes, in the laundry room windows, a herb garden flourishes beside eight geraniums I cultivated from cuttings. They'll go into the flowerbeds in a week or so. The rhubarb I transplanted from the family farm a couple of years ago is now huge and lush. This afternoon I'm planting my 'salad table', a couple of weeks late, but I'll have my own fresh, homegrown spring mix in about two weeks, and if I'm smart and careful, it will last all summer long. This weekend, I'm bringing home some of my brother's cast off everbearing raspberry bushes.

Lest you think this bounty is just for looking at, on Tuesday, I served pasta with sauce that began as tomatoes in last year's garden, lovingly 'squeezed', bottled and stored. It was delicious and comforting to know exactly what was in it. (or to be accurate, what wasn't in it: no chemicals, no colorings and hardly any salt.)

I might try my hand at growing garlic this year, too. Just for fun. Oh, and for the taste, which is really the reason behind all this digging in the dirt. Beyond the accomplishment of saying, "I grew it myself!", I think food from my backyard actually does taste better than the stuff from the store.

Rhubarb pie, anyone?