The Story Of A Garden

I think that most of my readers know that almost exactly two years ago my husband and I moved from the Southwest desert where practically nothing but tumbleweed grows to the lush, green grass of the Southeast.   (You can read about our move here.)   Quite a number of years prior to moving, we purchased our farm and waited with bated breath for the day we would make the move. 

Because we were moving in the Spring, all I could think about was, for the first time in my adult life, being able to have a garden without watering day and night to get a few cucumbers and tomatoes.  So...  I sweetly asked begged, pleaded, bribed my son and son-in-law to please put my garden fence up for me before we moved.  They agreed and when asked where I wanted it I said, "The hilltop, of course.  I want to be able to look at the view and get that great cool hilltop breeze while I'm gardening".  They spent hours putting in the posts, the wire, the gates and a few times they mentioned to me on the phone, "It sure is rocky on the hilltop".   How could it possibly be rocky - the grass on that hill is just about the most lush stuff you've ever seen. 

We moved, we bought a tiller, we started tilling.  And there were rocks EVERYWHERE.  Big rocks, huge rocks, and some tiny rocks that grew overnight into boulders.  We tilled, carried buckets and buckets of rocks to the tractor loader where we filled it up and hauled them off.  Over and over and over.  How could that fertile hilltop soil be so rocky?  Finally Eldon said, "You've just got to plant the garden and hope for the best".  So, I did. 

Every morning, Jillian (my little three year old grand-daughter) and I drove up to the hilltop where we bonded working in the garden. 

 

And the garden grew and grew.

I had bushels of squash and cucumbers every single day.  Who knew you could get so many vegetables from a garden that didn't even need to be watered?

The end of the season came and Spring rolled around again and the rocks had multiplied times ten.  Eldon said, "We have to move the garden.  There is a perfect spot at the bottom of the hill by the pond."   So we pulled the wire off, dug up fence posts, and started over the next Spring at the bottom of the hill.

I thought the soil was fertile and the garden did great on the hilltop, but the bottom land was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.  I went a little overboard with tomato plants... and they grew and produced like crazy.  My okra plants grew to the size of small trees.  Before I knew it I was almost sick with dread at the massive amounts of produce.  And living in a travel trailer isn't very conducive to canning! 

I took some zinnias and bags of produce to the little cafe down the country road and they happily took them off my hands.  I gave produce to everybody I could think of.  I said the words I never thought I would hear myself say, "I am really sick of this garden."  Well, guess what?

Its spring here in the South and we tilled the garden this weekend and I'm excited to plant again!  I say that I'm not going to plant as much this year, that I'm not going to overdo it again.  But, I know it will happen again and I'm excited!  (I'm even very tentatively holding my breath that by harvest time I'll have a nice, new kitchen to can in!)  My daughter and I bought heirloom seeds and I have darling little tomato plants that seem to be growing nicely in the window of the house.  The owner of the little local cafe has expressed a desire to have me provide her with produce and flowers this year.  What a great reason to plant all those beautiful packets of seeds right? 

I am thankful for Spring, thankful for the desire to dig in the dirt and plant again.  

And now...  meet McKinley - the newest addition to our farm.  Our beautiful new Angus Bull!

I hope you have a wonderful week and that wherever you live Spring has arrived for you too!