When my friends and I first started a garden last April they asked me what I wanted to plant. I hesitated. 

"Lettuce, and peppers. And pumpkin sounds good." I hadn't thought about it as much as they had. My friend ordered seeds online back when there was still snow on the ground. 

Since they had gardened before they had a better grasp of planning. They had created a map, which included beds for peas, carrots, squash, and onions. They also chose a few things I am not very familiar with, like okra, hot peppers, and eggplant. I kind of ignored them.

As the days for tilling and poking came and went, I spent more time thinking about the weeds than I did the vegetables that were prominently displayed on little paper packages. It was like when I was first pregnant. I read a stack of books about gestation and labor. The actual baby was an afterthought.

This week the harvest is bountiful. I brought home ten ears of corn, as many tomatoes and potatoes, carrots with ostentatious greens and a huge green pepper. I stepped over the okra and eggplant though I did water them.

It turns out that what you plant has a strong correlation with what comes up.

When I contemplate what I have planted in my relationship with John I notice that some of the things that come up are not delicious. Probably I could put less effort into things like well timed complaints.