I’m afraid I’ll never get the water figured out and the garden will drown all spring and shrivel all summer.
I’m afraid the weeds will grow over my head.
I’m afraid diseases will strike and I’ll never figure out why because they will never match the pictures.
I’m afraid I’ll neglect everything in August (I bolt like spinach when the weather gets hot).
I’m afraid I’ll get too absorbed working the garden and D4 will make a dash for the road.
I’m afraid I’ve done all the wrong things in planning my beds and creating my compost and they won’t grow right at all.
I’m afraid I’ll never find a way to obtain and haul mulch.
I’m afraid the mosquitoes will be terrible again and I won’t be able to take the kids outside for fear of being eaten alive.
I’m afraid the whole thing will be a colossal waste of time and money and we’d be better off sticking with shrink-wrapped broccoli from Aldi’s.
There, now I have that out of my system.