Flowers for the Kitchen Table

One of the little reasons I wanted a cutting garden in the first place.

Earlier this spring, like everyone else who dreams of having a cutting garden, I diligently picked out the prettiest cottage garden seeds I could find at Lowe's and planted them in my little seed-starting trays.

I checked on them every day. Made sure they had enough light. Kept them watered. And after the last frost, I finally planted them outside.

The deer pretty much helped themselves to everything.

Everything, that is, except the zinnias.

And somehow I ended up with a lot of zinnias. Two patches of them, in every color.

So i'll take what I can get this year.

Because now I can finally do one of the things I pictured when I planted all those tiny seeds months ago: walk outside with a pair of clippers, cut whatever looks good and bring an armful of flowers into the house.

There is something ridiculously satisfying about arranging flowers you grew yourself. Mine aren't particularly sophisticated. I trim them up, put them in whatever vase I can find and move things around until they look about right.

Then onto the kitchen table they go.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the big projects I want to do here—the gardens, redecorating rooms, the horseshoe driveway, the orchard.

But sometimes getting that rush of making something go from ugly to pretty really only takes ten minutes and a pair of garden clippers.

And maybe that's the whole point.

Little by little.