Children are like a complicated equation. Or maybe more like a recipe.
Take four cups of adorable, add two sprinkles of defiance, a solid reflection of my own sin, plus twenty tons of the best hugs you’ve ever had, and a dash of stinker…I’ll quit now…
Know what else is a complicated equation?
THIS DIRT.
{Not the dog. She’s complicated for other reasons.}
I’ve been googling. I’ve been reading. And that Chemistry class I just barely squeaked by in college is coming back to bite me. You see, I have a faint memory of a pH scale. It’s filed away right beside the dialogue to Grease {was anyone else able to quote along during the Fox live broadcast?? Considering I haven’t watched that movie in 20+ years…CREEPY WEIRD}.
As it would turn out, that pH scale has a wee bit of impact on my garden. And neutral is out.
Acidic is in.
{I feel like an episode of Top Chef.}
{Ok, just one meme for fun…}
{That’s all, I promise.}
I looked up the ideal pH ranges for everything in the plans for this coming season, and they all require lower pH’s than I expected. As in several things can tolerate as low as 5.5, and they all prefer way lower than 7.
I’m preferring to invoke my selective memory about last year’s disastrous score of all 7.0’s…even from the Romanian judge. This year it’s gonna be different.
When bitty E learned to count, she had a thing for leaving out the 7’s. Now I’m beginning to think she was on to something.
This is a whole lot of build up to tell you I added some soil acidifier yesterday.
This is not a good color.
One of the beds read flat neutral, but the others read more acidic. Still, I added some acidifier to everything.
This is a better color.
The blueberries had the best results, which is great since they prefer SUPER low numbers, but I still added some more for good measure.
Hope my recipe works. We’re still awaiting results on the children.
