What do I know about gardening?

So Sunshine had me order seeds today. Because once we make the move to buttfuck nowhere, we will be having to grow our own vegetables and some fruits.

Somehow, ordering seeds makes the whole thing more real than the epic shopathon I engaged in on Friday. I mean, how different, REALLY, is shopping for stockpiles of necessary things than shopping for groceries or clothes or whatever? Not so much.

But shopping for seeds? That’s different.

Stockpiles of necessary things? Those will get used regardless of whether we move to buttfuck nowhere or stay right here. Seeds? Well, those will be a source of food.

That’s scary. If we fuck up the vegetable garden, there is no food. And what the fuck do I know about gardening? Not much. I mean, we had gardens when I was a kid, but mom and dad were in charge of that. All I knew about gardening as a kid was “here’s a bucket, Cindy, go pick some squash.” Or “here’s a bucket, Cindy, go pick some beans.”

I don’t know when to plant them or how to plant them or jack shit else about planting and harvesting a garden. And that’s when the fear kicks in.

Most days, the best weapon I have against fear is education. So I guess I’ll be hitting the internet to read up on how to grow a squash, and how to grow a carrot, and how to grow a fucking pumpkin because Sunshine seems to believe that moving to the middle of buttfuck nowhere will magically transform me into a domestic goddess who bakes him pumpkin pies.

Whatever he’s been smoking, keep that shit away from me please.

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