Turning The Garden

I decided to finish “turning the garden” myself today. I figured it was a bright sunny day, not too hot and I felt good.

How wrong I was about to become.

You see “turning the garden” does not mean that I have decided to switch ends for planting or anything really easy like that. “turning the garden” means using a pitch fork, stomping on it to get the forks in about 6 inched then lifting the wedge of dirt (and rocks) and turning it over. The first few stomps were actually pretty good. I felt strong, you know, like, “I am woman, hear me roar?”. But by the end of the first row I realized why I prefer to be known as the gentler sex. This is tough work.

Now I did not want Hubby to see me give up. He does enough around here, mowing the lawn, spraying the fruit trees and all, that I certainly don’t want him suggesting that he switch off one of those jobs with me. We all remember a year ago when he was laid up with his bad knees and I was doing all his work. Not a pretty sight!

I worked for 2 full hours. I did do the smart thing and stopped twice to down copious amounts of water. I also threw the ball for Fritz and checked on the dachshunds. Then I headed straight back to work. I was determined.

I have to tell you that you would be amazed at the size of the rocks I was pulling out of the ground.

When I think of the men and women who made homesteads here in the early 1800’s and had to do all this work like I am doing it right now, by hand, I have a real appreciation for what they did. I have a little garden, these people probably had a garden 5 times the size of the one I have. And if it didn’t do well, they were mighty hungry.

So the garden soil is “turned” and we raked it too, so now this weekend we will plant a row of corn and then, the last day of May I’ll be planting my seedlings.

My helper, Arnie.

Meanwhile, I can be found in a hot bath soaking away my aches.

Yep, I am woman, hear me croak!