Brooklyn Backyard or Weeds- part 2

There were seeds to plant and one needed a place to do this. For some, living in Brooklyn would make it a challenge or an impossibility, as finding a secure place to explore the workings of a seed required soil. To the good fortune of a young Brooklyn "botanist" , he resided in a house with an attached backyard complete with soil. This 30' X 30' piece of real estate was all one could dream of. By city standards he was considered to live on a farm.
This young farmer now needed to spring into action. All his visualizing had to become reality. Possessing growing knowledge equal to Howdy Doody, research became Paramount. Having a box of unsold resource material, the seed packets became gospel.
They say ignorance is bliss. Farmer Boy was in a state of euphoria. Many years later he would learn such awareness as ,soil preparation, planting depth, , patience, what an emerging sprout looks like, more patience, weeding, and the need to actually stay in touch as a plant grows.
Seeds were in the ground and Farmer Boy was turning on the stove, ready to cook. He had gotten a late start because he had no idea when the last frost came and he didn't want to take any foolish chances. He was amazed at how fast ,what appeared to be lifeless soil can transform into a mass of green. He was quite confident some of that green were his seeds marching to the dinner table.
School was over late in June and City Boy was ready for the annual trek to the cottage by the lake. His family always left a week before school let out and stayed away until days before the new school year in September. A lesson soon was learned that planting a crop and leaving it to it's own resources, for two and a half months, is not recommended.
This ritual would continue for several years and City Boy never tired of planting, and plants never tired of growing into a tangled mass of something green. This phenomenon would have a great effect in City Boy's thinking many years in the future. But upon the yearly return from the lake the visions of bountiful harvests resulted in having a stove that cooked no dreams.