Assemble the tools.
You'll need a shovel, a hoe and a pick. Snicker at the word "hoe."
A bucket. A trowel. One of those diggers that has lots of screwdrivey looking fingers on it. A pair of real leather work gloves, not the pink ones your wife uses to plant the crocus in the front yard each year which survive for ten minutes before being set upon by fearsome, drooling rodents.
A wheelbarrow would be good as well, as would a good supply of cranberry juice, which acts as a fine re-hydrator as the day progresses. It may be a bit bitter, but we can worry about that later.
As we consider our first foray into the wonderful world of gardening, let us not forget that fine old joke, "You can lead a horticulture, but you can't make her think." Classic. I laugh myself stupid every damned day.
You'll also need clippers, shears, a knife, a square end shovel, different sizes of pitchfork (four three-tine pitchforks, three four-tine pitchforks), a water bucket, hoses, fertilizer, pesticide, deer/rabbit deterrent that smells like working in an industrial chicken coop, Popsicle sticks to remind you where you planted everything that your children will move so that later in the season you're convinced that while your Romas look like Beefsteaks, your Beefsteaks look like Romas, PVC pipe for making hoops over which you can stretch plastic sheeting (see below) during adverse weather (hail, snow, The Rapture), plastic sheeting (see above), twelve 4x6x8 railroad ties with which to build the raised bed, sixteen 1/2"x3' chunks of rebar to hold ties in place, $75 of weed fabric, which after having bought and used, you find in brand new condition in your garage, 18 bricks to hold the fabric in place, 20 bags of 2-cu-foot garden soil (GUARANTEED TO GROW EVERYTHING EXCEPT YOUR BANK ACCOUNT!) to hold the bricks in place and five cubic yards of top quality garden soil to be delivered because you gave yourself a hernia lifting bags of dirt.
Now, you are ready to begin.
Wait. Seeds. Get some seeds. Now, you're ready to begin.
You have now spent $3481.23. If you had gone to Costco, you could have bought all the vegetables you'd ever need for $48.50.
But where's the fun in that?