By the end of March, we were ready to be working outside. Those rare rainless days caught our enthusiasm.
Things were blossoming. Regardless of how small, I was fired up. Time to start the potatoes, weed the strawberries and returning onions.
For a month, I dodged rain showers and gardened as much as I could. I was right on schedule. Well, the usual schedule. This year with my fall and twisting of right ankle and knee, the gardening schedule is way off schedule. Usually my entire garden space is planted and starting to take off.
Last year, my corn was knee-high by the fourth of June. This year I don’t have any corn planted, but I do have outstanding crops of grass, thistle, and who knows what kinds of weeds. Who knows what kinds of volunteers are trying to push through.
When it comes to weeding with a leg injury, I’ve learned to be creative. If I could get myself onto the ground and back up again without too much pain, I was able to weed the raspberries. Slow going. But I’ve got a schedule to keep.
The problem with gardening, even if I had the entire area cleared, is that there’s always something to be attending. Grass and thistle are invading my potato patch.
The greatest part about this year’s garden is the introduction of raised beds. I’ve always wanted raised beds since the soil for the most part is basically clay and a lot of rock, and with my leg injury, the number of beds installed increased beyond expectations; they are high enough to allow me to sit on the edge. But it still takes work to get the area prepped for the bed, and I still have quite a bit of area that is planted in the ground.
When I first started this massive gardening project seven or eight years ago, maybe more, I told myself that the day I stop having fun is the day I stop gardening. I refuse to be a slave to a task. I have to remind myself that this year is just one of those times that changes the time table. Maybe I won’t use the entire area this year, though I’ve not accepted this reality yet. It’s just a thought.