It snowed 3 inches last night. I guess the thing that irritates me most about snow, is when it never gets in the forecast till just before it snows. Somebody at msn weather needs a paycut.
So I want to move. We live in a condo, and this summer I really want a garden. Last summer i had some potted stuff, but its just not the same.
We always had gardens when I was growing up. Massive. Intensive. Rewarding. We’re talking an acre. (trust me, an acre is big when you do everything by hand). I remember hot days in July the summer I was 7. Sitting in the middle of the rows of potato plants picking out potato beetles; the creases on the skin of my knees deeply lined with dirt. We had to get all the beetles out of the plants and then squish them between two rocks. Nobody told us that rhubarb was poisonous when raw, so you’d find us out in the middle of the garden; weeding, picking beetles, whining, and eating stalks of red rhubarb. Good hard work never killed nobody. You can quote me on that one. Later when I was 11, watering the garden meant carrying bucket-fulls up from the river and splashing precious drops on the acorn squash plants that would later feed us in the frosty months of fall and winter.
Sometimes just because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s better for you. Sometimes the best parts of life can only be found by dirty feet dangling over a river bank after a long, hot day in a garden.