Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Garden time.

I told Ben that I would prep/take care of the garden this year.  He's been pretty busy lately, and I'm sure the garden was the last thing on his mind, so he was more than willing to delegate the job to me.  I have more time at home to get this kind of stuff done, anyway.  And, I kinda wanted to do it on my own, just to see if I could.

I'll probably have a failed harvest, but sometimes you just have to do something and fail so you can learn how to make it better the next time.  We'll see.  I have the mistaken view (I'm sure) that somehow the garden will work better because I did it all myself.  Hah! Who's a control freak now?

If it fails, I'll thank my lucky stars that I'm not Ma Ingalls on the prairie who depends on her own food source.  That would be a gamble:).

Today was the day.  Most people plant on or around Memorial Day in southeastern Idaho (except for a few of the hardier veggies, like peas).  Annie was standing-by to babysit AND document the journey.  As you can tell, I was channeling my inner green thumb through my subconscious shirt-choice.

Last winter, the kids used the back half of the garden to build a--no joke--luxury log home.  They stacked logs just like lincoln-logs, dug a fire pit, surrounded it with brick, put shingles on the roof...the whole nine yards.  You can imagine my excitement at clearing away said creation.  Not fun.  At all.  But in order to till the garden, it had to be done.  I gritted my teeth and got to work.  I have scratches all over my chest to prove it.

(Only smiling on the outside, my friends.)

You can't believe the power I felt tilling that garden!  I was an ANIMAL!  I only lost control twice (hah)...the first time I plowed through the discarded pile of bricks from the luxury-log-cabin-fire-pit.  It was a sight, I'm sure.  If my dad had seen me screaming and chasing after his tiller...well, let's just say, I'm happy he didn't.

I tilled the garden twice and guess who showed up?  Dad to the rescue!  The timing couldn't have been more perfect.  Sammy was about done being so-very patient and needed his momma.

Super-Dad tilled the garden twice more.  By the time he finished, the soil was airy and soft and BEAUTIFUL!  He really went the extra mile for us (as in everything he does).  He's always so willing and excited to help with this kind of stuff (can you tell?).  I'm very, very grateful.

(There's some serious Grandpa-adoration going on here)

I managed to make about 16 furrows before the weather turned bad.  I plan on finishing tomorrow.  My dad's bringing me his new contraption, a seeder, that plants the seeds for you as you push it down your rows.  Should be fun.  You can change the setting to whatever seed your planting, so it spaces them evenly.  How cool is that?  I don't think I can mess that up too badly.  "Think" is the operative word here.

Check out the weather just a few minutes after I finished!  Holy cow.

As much as I hated smelling like a sweaty body the rest of the day, it sure felt good to work hard.  And with all those burned calories, I'm refusing to feel guilt about the Oreo milkshake Ben made for me at 9 o'clock TONIGHT!!  Yikes, that was good!


Honey said...

How precious is that picture of your Dad holding the tiller in one hand, and Annie's hand in the other. I love it.

Good work, Lanette. :)

Debbie and Bobby said...

Love your Dad's happy and willing pose :o)

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