I shook down my vegetables that went to seed. I spread the seed far and wide over the garden. Part experiment, part lazy gardener style, but all toward a master plan of establishing some year round veges that take care of themselves and provide shelter, a living mulch, and, of course, fresh veges for the table.
It was sad to see, when the mild winter began, the tomato seedlings come up, all proud and with perfectly formed leaves, sometimes purple in colour. Full of a promise never to be fulfilled. I felt bad for them. Wished they'd waited till Spring, or Summer. They disappeared quickly, reabsorbed into the soil and maybe feeding one or two of the 1000s of Paris Cos lettuces that are growing like micro-greens. Thinning these out is a fun job because, though but babes, they make a tender salad. I'll let some of the bigger ones get more light, more space, and allow them to take part in their biological destiny beyond the table: to bring in the bees, to provide pretty-ish flowers, and to reproduce; grow forth and multiply.
I do not begrudge the speedwell that grows at every bare patch, but I'd rather eat my weeds.

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