Yesterday afternoon it was not raining and so I was able to get my shovel and go out to the garden plot and dig.  I dug up some dead raspberries and lots of weeds.  The soil is spaded and now needs to have some compost raked in and it will be ready to plant.  In the past I have always planted and cared for flowers and I have often had a few cherry tomato plants, raspberries and some herbs, but this is the biggest garden I have ever attempted.  For a while I felt like a kindergartner writing in the “Mother’s Day cookbook”—get a big bowl and mix flour and eggs and cook it for 20 seconds at 600 degrees.  I have this interesting mix of childhood memories of my parents’ gardening, but I am not sure why they always did what they did.

For example—the rows had to be straight.  I mean measured out with a yardstick with someone holding a string so the furrow would be exactly the same distance form the rows on either side.  Did the vegetables care?  And the squash, cucumbers and pumpkins had to planted in hills not rows.  They got to run wild at one end of the garden while all the lettuce, carrots and beets stayed in their careful rows.  By the time I came along my parents had been gardening together for a long time—they knew from experience what worked in their gardens and what did not.

I am thankful for a place to experiment at this stage in my life.  There is forgiveness in God’s garden when the rows aren’t straight—in fact I am learning about square foot gardening where there are no rows at all.  I am excited about actually getting some plants in the ground.  Welcome Spring!  Welcome sun!