The weather was to be terrific, so said the forecast. I had planned for it, and I was ready to clean out the garden... Then it froze. Huh. Not so great for my wanting to do anything outside. I cleaned house instead.
The next day, it was so much warmer. After the light frost in the morning, it was pleasant. So, I forged forward with grand plans of attacking the- Oh, Holy Crap! That's a lot of weeds! I stared at the raised bed, that I could not see the overwintered plants in, because of the weeds and grasses... EEEK!
Ok, one thing at a time. Get wheelbarrow. Check. Gloves? Check. Weed popper? Check. Knife? Check. Off to the races!
I proceed to pull weeds. And pull weeds, and PULL WEEDS! Filled the wheelbarrow twice with one raised bed. The chickens were waiting with bated breath for me, I dump the load, and it's tossed like a salad, for the seeds they want.
Grasses, probably could have had a fair hay bale, from all the crud I had in there. BUT, pull, pull, pull, got it down to the soil again, except for some tiny greenery, that shall be hoed and raked away later. I was able to get rid of everything but the curly dock weed...
That monster was not leaving without a fight. It had all winter to get nice and huge. I dug, picked, pulled, and was even trying my menacing glare, when Husband walked up. I mentioned that the dock weed was going to be a bear to remove.
He shrugged, just a second, I have the shovel back here.
I watched as he scooped out the weed like it was a hand in a glove, toss it in my wheelbarrow, and then repeat with 2 others he saw.
I was grateful, I would have been there for, well, a LONG time, trying to remove the crud. And even with the shovel, I doubt I could have removed it as thoroughly as he did. But, can I say honestly that I really wish I wasn't envious of him being able to DO that? I would probably jump up and down several times before the shovel would move. No leg strength... Sigh.
But now I have the big stuff cleaned out, and I can start adding compost and new soil, and get things ready for planting, soon.
Oh. And the potatoes I planted? Remember I mentioned there was a freeze? Well, I had waited to where I remembered the last frost being, and Mother Nature LAUGHED! Anyway, it burned the tops of the tall ones. They all had been attacked by some little round bug, and slugs. Loose translation, I have to replant them. Ah, the joys of gardening.
Snarl...
1 comment:
Just like the joys of childraising, or taking care of farm animals, or having pets, or writing for publication, or i could go on -- there's always a pot that goes with the plant and sometimes i think i should have stuck to goldfish.
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