Peas in a Pod

When we bought our house seven years ago, we planted a garden. It was a disaster. We planted everything too close together, our dogs ate all of the peas, and all we were left with was 264 squash. Black thumb, check.

 

Since then, David has been committed to giving gardening another go. Most of our friends are some version of urban farmers and they make the whole thing look quite easy; from my perspective, this alone is the biggest indicator that we are going to fail.

 

I wanted to capture a few images of the plants before they died were in the ground, only to discover David and Morgan were already hard at work.

They had laid everything out,  being careful to give the tomatoes plenty of room.

David would dig a hole, Morgan would place the plant. They took turns filling in the gaps, talking about the vegetable that will probably never eventually grow.

They went through each of the plants they'd chosen, David repeatedly reminding me that he did not plant any squash or zucchini. Morgan told me that the soil was full of worms and did I know we were planting in ACTUAL COW POOP?

As I watched the two of them work, I couldn't help but notice just how much Morgan's becoming like her dad. They share the same passion for the outdoors, the same interest in learning how things grow, the same excitement to make our own food. They share the same mannerisms, the same voice inflections, the same facial expressions.  Morgan even made me stop taking pictures so she could go get her baseball cap. "Mom, hold on. I need to match dad while we're working together." Of course you do.

Oh yeah, and they look identical. The more Morgan grows, the less I see myself in her and the more I see little bits of David in everything she does. The apple clearly didn't fall far from that tree. Let's just hope she doesn't start growing a beard.