I pretty much post about this same thing every Memorial Day because I pretty much do this same thing every Memorial Day weekend. No matter what the weather, I find a time when I can get my tiny vegetable garden planted.
This is a somewhat better shot of the garden from above–at least the shadows are consistent.
Before you start thinking that that’s the weirdest Memorial Day tradition you’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you why I do it. Probably my earliest gardens that I remember planting were tiny little vegetable gardens at summer homes at the Jersey shore. They held nothing but tomatoes–I don’t even know how many nor do I recall where we got them but I remember helping my Dad tend them–or tending them for him since he was one of the Dads who worked elsewhere during the week while my Mom and I and my sister got to spend the week at the shore. Then he’d come down every Thursday or Friday night for the weekend and go back on Monday for the week.
Much later on, when I was growing my own gardens from seed, I would start my tomatoes, and tomatoes for my Dad (and for a neighbor, too, in later years). Both my Dad and the neighbor, coincidentally, are WWII veterans.
My Dad is no longer alive but I still grow seeds for my neighbor and me. And so it seems fitting to plant on Memorial Day, not only to honor the memory of my Dad but to try to preserve this day as something other than “just a day” when it might be used to go to the beach or the mall.