Summer of Strawberry. The beginning.

Last summer was an epic gardening experience but at, like, a third grade level. When it arrived, everything was already actually a plant. Mom did most of the repotting for me.  All I had to do was not kill them for a summer.  Something I just barely managed to do.

This year, Cougar thought it was time to take it up a notch and sent me basically a pile of stringy dirt (which are apparently roots) -

And a fancy jar.

And I was like, "erm."

Luckily, the internet has its uses, which are to tell you how to do things your mom thinks you are capable of (but you are not even close to being able to do).

Here's a solid video, although this woman gets zero dirt on her pretty blue shirt. Zero.  How is that even possible?

I found a new use for the green wellies I can't bear to part with. They're mah gardenen' boots! I cannot manage to go 30 seconds without completely covering myself in organic potting soil.

This whole process of planting teeny tiny strings of nothing was incredibly stressful. And what will make it even worse is I have ages and ages before I know if I did it right or wrong.  Despite my mother's insistence that strawberries are hearty plants and basically weeds - I cannot help but feel an enormous amount of pressure for them to survive.

If you are planting your own strawberry pot, and are wondering what they're supposed to look like when they're all planted - I have no idea.  But Mom said this was "good enough" -

At any rate, it was a gorgeous Spring Sunday, and I am happy I got to spend it in the sunshine. Its the summer of the strawberry!