The rain the weatherman predicted never came, but Friday dawned bright and beautiful and warm just like he said it would. A perfect day for planting my snow peas and for a couple of before pictures in the garden.
This is our squash garden, waiting oh so patiently. My husband picked up several used cattle panels, bent them at the ends and used PVC to support them in the middle. We’re going to stake down the ends as well. I’m going to plant my salad garden under the panels. By the time the squash is large enough to shade out the lettuce, it will be about time for my lettuce and spinach to bolt, anyway.
For the peas and tomatoes, we’re making a hedge-type support system with used cattle panels. Using my trusty warren how, I ran a nice furrow along the base of the fencing to drop the peas in. I’d like two more by tomato planting time, but for now the “make do” side of me is thinking about planting the tomatoes down the center of the row. By the time they are big enough to need the support, the peas should be dying back, anyway.
I actually felt sort of sad turning under so much of my clover already, but was happy to see it had a nice dense root system, doing the main job we were looking for in a cover crop this year: pushing out the weeds.
Bear saw I was working in the garden and came down to chat.
“Can I help?” he asked.
Warmed my soul. The children were disappointed in the morning when I told them they couldn’t plant their sections until I had a way of marking off their squares, but they seemed to get over it as soon as they had the day and the sunshine to themselves.
But a voluntary helper? Makes me feel like we’ve done something right in this outdoour country lifestyle we’ve chosen.
“Don’t forget to leave some peas for me!” He interjected as I poured out the last of the package in my hand.
“Sweetheart, I still have two more packages. I should have enough for a fall planting and still have plenty for you guys.”
He smiled. He really likes gardening, and it always surprises me how hard he is willing to work. He can throw a temper tantrum over picking up a few legos, but out here he will work until his muscles are sore. I don’t know if it is the sun or the soil or the warm spring air, but it just feels right. Like this is how we are meant to live and how children are meant to be raised.
Hard work, free time and the great outdoors. For a fleeting moment, I feel just a twinge of the excitement I had when we moved here.