Hello! Come join us for a brief update on what’s happening at our vegetable garden here at the Veggie-Bed.
The young tomato plants are adjusting to their new outdoor home after being nurtured in the grow tent. Their leaves are beginning to stretch toward the sun, embracing the change.
The cucumbers, too, are in transition. They’ve left the shelter of the indoor environment and are now exploring the open garden. Soon their tendrils will reach out, seeking support as they climb.
Meanwhile, in the germination tent, the peppers await their turn. Their tiny seedlings hold the promise of future spice and flavor. Patience is key as they continue to grow.
Planted out in mid-March, the kale and collards have become dependable producers. Each week, we harvest their lower leaves, savoring the fresh greens. These hardy plants thrive in the changing weather.
The potato plants initially started indoors but have now embraced the great outdoors. Their roots dig deep into the soil, gathering nutrients for the tubers that will form beneath the surface.
Lastly, the sugar snap peas are on a mission. They’ve begun their ascent, winding their way up the trellis. Soon, their delicate white flowers will give way to crisp, sweet pods. Unlike the other vegetables, these sugar snaps were directly sown into the garden soil at the end of March.
As spring unfolds, the garden becomes a canvas of life, color, and growth, and we invite you to follow us. Happy gardening!
Writer/Digital creator/Prompt designer: Tom Myrick
If you would like to be a part of Urban Gardening’s mission of encouraging and sharing information about vegetable gardening throughout the world, please join our group on Facebook:
On a cold winter’s morning, a gardener – Poppa Tom – and his loyal hound – Lucy Lou – sat by the fireplace in their cozy cabin at the Veggie-Bed. The landscape outside was draped in a gentle snowfall, and a tattered crow clung to the wooden fence, its feathers ruffled against the cold. The bird’s beady eyes observed the cabin with curiosity and caution.
Poppa Tom leaned closer to the frost-kissed window, squinting to get a better look. “Lucy Lou,” he said, patting the dog’s head, “look at that crow. Ain’t it a sight?” Lucy Lou’s tail thumped against the floor. She had encountered her fair share of crows, but this one was different. Its wingtips were frayed, and its beak had a slight crook. Yet, something in its gaze—a hint of vulnerability—tugged at her canine heart, stirring a deep empathy within her.
Poppa Tom and Lucy Lou set out on their daily hike as the morning sun climbed higher. To their surprise, the tattered crow reappeared on the fence. Lucy Lou whined softly as if conveying, “The crow needs our help.” They approached cautiously, but just as they drew near, the crow took flight, disappearing into the woods. Perhaps it carried secrets or stories of its own, woven into the fabric of that wintry morning.
Upon returning to the Veggie-Bed, Poppa Tom moved an old wooden picnic table next to the fence. It had weathered many seasons, its surface worn and grooved from years of use. With a thoughtful expression, he gathered a handful of peanuts and pumpkin seeds from the pantry. These humble offerings, he hoped, would provide sustenance for the tattered crow that had captured their hearts.
Placing the food carefully on the table, Poppa Tom stepped back, watching Lucy Lou sit nearby, her ears perking in anticipation. The crow, ever cautious, observed from a nearby branch. Once ruffled and frayed, its feathers seemed to settle as it considered the unexpected bounty.
Days turned into weeks, and the ritual continued. Each morning, Poppa Tom replenished the offerings—sometimes adding a few breadcrumbs or a slice of apple. Lucy Lou wagged her tail, her canine companionship unwavering. And the crow? It became a fixture, a silent visitor who accepted the kindness bestowed upon it.
The cozy cabin and its surroundings transformed as winter gradually gave way to spring. The snow melted, revealing patches of earth eager for new life. Yet, there was a noticeable absence—the tattered crow no longer perched on the fence, its beady eyes missing from the morning tableau.
Undeterred by the crow’s disappearance, Poppa Tom persisted in his daily ritual. Each morning, he replenished the wooden picnic table with fresh offerings. The peanuts and pumpkin seeds were now joined by slices of ripe pear and clusters of grapes. Lucy Lou watched, her tail swishing in approval as if she understood the unspoken commitment.
The seasons shifted, and the air carried the scent of blossoms. Still, the crow remained elusive. Poppa Tom wondered: Had it found a new home? Was it nursing an injury? Or had it moved on, leaving memories etched in frost and kindness?
Poppa Tom noticed movement near the fence one morning as dew clung to the grass. His heart skipped a beat—the crow had returned! But it wasn’t alone. Perched next to the crow was a fledgling, its feathers were shaggy and eyes wide with wonder. Lucy Lou’s ears pricked up, sensing the shift in the familiar routine.
The tattered crow hopped onto the picnic table, its beak picking at the assortment of food. The young one chirped, its hunger insatiable. Poppa Tom smiled, realizing that their acts of compassion had rippled beyond themselves. They had unwittingly nurtured not just one life but two.
And so, spring unfolded—a tapestry of renewal. The crow family became part of the cabin’s lore, their presence a reminder that generosity transcends seasons. Poppa Tom continued to replenish the table, now with extra care. Lucy Lou sat by his side, her gaze shifting between the crow and its fledgling as if sharing in their journey.
As the seasons flowed into years, the tattered crow—the one that had once clung to the wooden fence with its frayed wings—gradually ceased visiting the Veggie-Bed. Maybe it had found a quieter corner of the forest, where it could rest its weary feathers and watch the world from afar.
Yet, life has a way of weaving intricate patterns. The fledgling that had once perched on the fence next to the old crow now stood tall and proud—a beautiful crow in its own right. Its plumage shimmered with iridescent blues and blacks, a testament to the passage of time and the wisdom inherited from its parent.
The ritual persisted, albeit with a new friend. The beautiful crow returned faithfully, its beak deftly picking at the offerings on the weathered picnic table. Poppa Tom, now a little grayer at the temples, continued his daily task. Lucy Lou’s eyes filled with canine understanding sat nearby, her tail thumping against the ground.
And there, at the table, the generations converged. The fledgling now grown—bold and curious—brought its own offspring, a tiny ball of fluff with wide eyes. Together, they pecked at the bounty: peanuts, pumpkin seeds, slices of apple, and the occasional crust of bread. The old crow’s legacy lived on, passed down through seasons, and whispered in rustling leaves.
Poppa Tom watched the crow family as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the cabin. His heart swelled with gratitude—for the lessons learned, the quiet companionship, and the way life unfolded in unexpected circles. The old picnic table, now etched with countless memories, bore witness to this quiet miracle.
Perhaps the tattered crow had taught them more than they could ever teach it. In the quiet moments, when the sun filtered through budding leaves, they found solace—a connection woven from frost, trust, and the simple act of leaving food on an old wooden table.
And so, the unlikely trio—a gardener, a foxhound, and a crow—had formed an unspoken bond, united by compassion and the quiet magic of a snowy morning.
A Note from Tom: While the stories are fictional, they draw inspiration from events that occur at my vegetable garden. A blurred line – To create a desired story, the process begins by outlining my concept, and constructing a storyboard. After that, AI is used to refine and enhance the narrative while producing a complementary image. The story is extensively rewritten, and the image is carefully edited until they meet my standards. At times, it can be challenging to distinguish between my contributions and those of AI. This intricate process takes around six to eight hours to complete, resulting in a final product that perfectly reflects my original vision.
Writer/Digital creator/Prompt designer: Tom Myrick
If you would like to be a part of Urban Gardening’s mission of encouraging and sharing information about vegetable gardening throughout the world, please join our group on Facebook:
In the heart of a sun-kissed meadow, where dew-kissed leaves whispered secrets, Poppa Tom and his steadfast hound, Lucy Lou, tended to their cherished garden—the Veggie-Bed
In a quaint little cottage nestled at the edge of a sun-kissed meadow, lived Poppa Tom and his faithful hound, Lucy Lou. Their bond was as strong as the roots of the vegetables that grew in their small but cherished garden—the Veggie-Bed.
Lucy Lou was no ordinary dog. She had a purpose beyond fetching sticks or chasing her tail. Her duty was to protect the Veggie-Bed from any intruders—especially the pesky varmints that lurked nearby.
Every morning, Lucy Lou would rise with the sun. Her keen eyes scanned the dew-kissed leaves of the lettuce, the plump tomatoes, and the vibrant carrots. She knew each vegetable by name, as if they were her own kin.
The squirrels were her sworn enemies. They would dart across the garden, their tiny paws digging into the soil, stealing seeds and nibbling on tender shoots. But Lucy Lou was vigilant. She’d chase them away, barking fiercely, her tail a blur of determination.
The rabbits were trickier. They’d hop in, their fluffy tails twitching, and nibble on the edges of the cabbage leaves. Lucy Lou would give them a stern look, as if saying, “Not on my watch!” And off they’d hop, startled by her authority.
Occasionally, a raccoon would venture near the Veggie-Bed. These masked bandits were cunning—they’d tiptoe silently, their nimble fingers plucking ripe strawberries or digging up potatoes. But Lucy Lou had a sixth sense. She’d catch their scent, her nose quivering, and then the chase would begin.
Through rows of corn and beanstalks, Lucy Lou would sprint, her ears flapping like wings. The raccoon would zigzag, desperate to escape. But Lucy Lou was relentless. She’d corner it near the old apple tree, her bark echoing through the orchard. The raccoon would surrender, its eyes wide with fear, and retreat into the woods.
Lucy Lou wasn’t just a fierce guardian; she was also a sweetheart. After each chase, she’d return to Poppa Tom, her tongue lolling, and nuzzle his hand. He’d stroke her velvety ears and say, “Good girl, Lucy Lou. You’re the Veggie-Bed’s true hero.”
And so, the seasons danced. Spring brought tender lettuce and fragrant herbs. Summer painted the garden with sunflowers and zucchinis. Autumn draped the pumpkin vines in orange, and winter whispered secrets to the dormant soil.
Lucy Lou’s loyalty never wavered. She’d curl up near the Veggie-Bed, her eyes half-closed, listening to the rustle of leaves. Sometimes, Poppa Tom would sit beside her, sharing stories of his youth and the magic of growing food from the earth.
For Lucy Lou was more than a hound; she was the Guardian of the Veggie-Bed—a title she wore with pride, her eyes shining like the morning sun. And in that sun-kissed meadow, love and loyalty blossomed alongside the vegetables, creating a tale that would be whispered for generations to come.
A Note from Tom: A blurred line – To create a desired story, the process begins by outlining my concept, and constructing a storyboard. After that, AI is used to refine and enhance the narrative while producing a complementary image. The story is extensively rewritten, and the image is carefully edited until they meet my standards. At times, it can be challenging to distinguish between my contributions and those of AI. This intricate process takes around six to eight hours to complete, resulting in a final product that perfectly reflects my original vision.
Writer/Digital creator/Prompt designer: Tom Myrick
If you would like to be a part of Urban Gardening’s mission of encouraging and sharing information about vegetable gardening throughout the world, please join our group on Facebook:
In a sunlit garden, the vegetables—tomatoes, greens, beans, and potatoes—share stories of their gardener’s care. Poppa Tom, with his green thumb, tends to each plant with love. He waters, supports, and protects them, creating a thriving garden family. As the day ends, they feel grateful for Poppa Tom, who makes their world a beautiful place.
In a verdant garden, bathed in the golden glow of a warm summer day, a lively conversation unfolds at the Veggie-Bed. The tomatoes, plump and radiant in their red attire, chat with the crisp leafy greens, the robust beans, and the earthy potatoes. They all share tales of the tender care they receive from their gardener, Poppa Tom.
Poppa Tom, a man with a green thumb and a heart full of love, is more than just a gardener to them; he is their guardian, their nurturer, and their friend. Every morning, as the sun peeks over the horizon, he arrives with his watering can, greeting each plant with a smile and a sprinkle of water that glistens like diamonds in the sunlight.
The tomatoes speak first, their voices ripe with admiration. “Poppa Tom always ensures we have just the right amount of water,” says one, “Not too much, not too little, just perfect so that our skins don’t split.”
The leafy greens nod in agreement, their leaves rustling softly. “And Poppa Tom is so gentle when he harvests us,” adds a kale leaf, “He always leaves enough so we can keep growing strong.”
The beans, hanging in clusters, chime in with their own praise. “He built this trellis for us to climb,” says a young pod, “It’s sturdy and tall, and it lets us reach for the sky.”
Lastly, the potatoes, nestled comfortably in the soil, share their gratitude. “Poppa Tom mulches around us to keep us cozy,” says a small spud, “And he’s so careful when he digs us up, making sure not to bruise our skins.”
Poppa Tom is busy at work as they speak, his hands moving skillfully through the soil, pulling weeds, and checking for pests. He hums a tune, a melody that resonates with the buzzing of the bees and the fluttering of the butterflies.
In this garden, every plant thrives under Poppa Tom’s watchful eye. They are not just vegetables in a bed; they are a community, a family of sorts, brought together by the love and dedication of a gardener who sees the beauty in every leaf, stem, and root.
And as the sun sets, casting long shadows across the Veggie-Bed, the plants whisper among themselves, “We are the luckiest plants in the world, for we have Poppa Tom, and he has us.”
A Note from Tom: A blurred line – To create a desired story, the process begins by outlining my concept, and constructing a storyboard. After that, AI is used to refine and enhance the narrative while producing a complementary image. The story is extensively rewritten, and the image is carefully edited until they meet my standards. At times, it can be challenging to distinguish between my contributions and those of AI. This intricate process takes around six to eight hours to complete, resulting in a final product that perfectly reflects my original vision.
Writer/Digital creator/Prompt designer: Tom Myrick
If you would like to be a part of Urban Gardening’s mission of encouraging and sharing information about vegetable gardening throughout the world, please join our group on Facebook:
Yes, plants can indeed communicate with each other. They do so through various means, primarily using chemicals and sound. Here’s a brief overview of how plants “talk”:
Plants release different types of chemicals to send messages. For example, when attacked by pests, some plants emit chemicals that can alert nearby plants of the danger. These neighboring plants may then produce their defensive chemicals in response.
Below the soil, plants are connected through a network of roots and fungal associations known as mycorrhizae. This “Wood Wide Web” allows them to exchange nutrients and even warn each other of potential dangers.
Plants can also use electrical signals to communicate internally and with other plants. These signals can travel through a plant’s system in response to external stimuli, like damage or environmental changes.
Recent studies have shown that plants might make ultrasonic sounds to communicate stress. This fascinating area of research could reveal more about how plants interact with their environment.
Unearthing plant communication piques our biological curiosity and significantly impacts agriculture and environmental management. This burgeoning field of study continually reveals the intricate and sophisticated ways plants communicate with each other and their surroundings.
Writer/Digital creator/Prompt designer: Tom Myrick
If you would like to be a part of Urban Gardening’s mission of encouraging and sharing information about vegetable gardening throughout the world, please join our group on Facebook:
Imagine a landscape where sleek, metallic stalks of corn rise from the earth, their leaves shimmering with a holographic sheen. At the top, instead of tassels, there are intricate circuits and glowing LEDs that pulse with life:
After humanity’s sudden disappearance, the world changed. Cities were empty, and the sounds of technology were replaced by the natural symphony of the wind and waves. Two survivors emerged – corn and technology. Each went their own way, unaware of the other. But both left their mark on the world without humans.
In the Midwest, cornfields stretched as far as the eye could see. Corn had been the faithful companion of humans for centuries, nourishing generations with its bounty. It didn’t mourn our absence but continued its life cycle. The wind carried pollen from one tassel to another, ensuring the next generation. Without plows or tractors, the soil rested and rejuvenated. Weeds crept in, but corn held its ground, competing for sunlight and nutrients.
In nearby forests, animals roamed freely. A curious raccoon nibbled on a fallen ear of corn. Hidden in forgotten barns and seed banks, corn seeds slept, holding the promise of renewal. Fresh corn on the cob lay abandoned in roadside stands and grocery stores, wilting within days and losing their sweetness. As Earth healed, corn persisted, its golden waves dancing under the sun and moon. Animals grazed, spreading seeds. And when the time came, new civilizations—perhaps not human—would reap the harvest.
Far from the fields, the remnants of human ingenuity struggled to survive. Power plants and communication networks failed. The once-vibrant internet servers blinked out, their digital archives slipping into oblivion. Yet, some artifacts endured. Skyscrapers, monuments, and bridges stood as silent witnesses. Durable materials—plastics, metals, and glass—resisted decay.
Technology, once our servant, surrendered to entropy. Yet, in its decay, it gave the planet relics and warnings. A rusted smartphone lay buried, its screen frozen on a forgotten selfie. The internet, once a web connecting minds across continents, unraveled. Servers blinked like dying stars. Yet fragments remained, and a cat video looped endlessly, waiting for an absent audience. Deep underground, nuclear waste repositories held their breath, warning future civilizations of our atomic hubris.
In Earth’s grand timeline, corn and technology played their roles – one whispered of resilience, the other of impermanence. And the world turned, indifferent to our absence, weaving stories in soil and silicon.
A Note from Tom: A blurred line – To create a desired story, the process begins by outlining my concept, and constructing a storyboard. After that, AI is used to refine and enhance the narrative while producing a complementary image. The story is extensively rewritten and the image is carefully edited until they meet my standards. At times, it can be challenging to distinguish between my contributions and those of AI. This intricate process takes around six to eight hours to complete, resulting in a final product that perfectly reflects my original vision.
Writer/Digital creator/Prompt designer: Tom Myrick
If you would like to be a part of Urban Gardening’s mission of encouraging and sharing information about vegetable gardening throughout the world, please join our group on Facebook:
Amidst the shifting diurnal temperature range, the tomato sprouts embarked on a transformative journey from the grow tent to the open garden.
With the stabilization of extremes between daytime and nighttime temperatures (diurnal temperature range) at the Veggie-Bed, we made the decision to move the tomato seedlings -once baby sprouts- from the grow tent to the garden outdoors.
Here are the essential steps to successfully grow tomato plants outdoors:
Choose a sunny spot with well-draining, fertile soil and a pH between 5.8 and 7.
Start tomato seeds indoors 6 to 8 weeks before your area’s last frost date. Alternatively, buy transplants. Transfer the plants outdoors when the soil warms up.
Stake, trellis, or cage the tomato plants immediately after planting. Use sturdy tomato cages 5 to 6 feet tall—space small bush tomato varieties twenty-four inches apart and larger ones 36 to 48 inches apart.
Water tomato plants regularly, aiming for deep watering once weekly. Once they start flowering, feed them with high-potash fertilizer.
Look for pests like spider mites and aphids and use neem oil spray to control them. Prune the plants to remove suckers and prevent fruit-rot.
Gently harvest ripe tomatoes with pruners. Enjoy them fresh or preserve them for later use.
Remember, each variety has unique characteristics, so explore diverse types and enjoy the flavorful fruits they bring to your garden!
If you would like to be a part of Urban Gardening’s mission of encouraging and sharing information about vegetable gardening throughout the world, please join our group on Facebook:
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