Yesterday at lunch my mother-in-law started teasing me about my pathetic little garden. And for the first time in ten years, I was actually able to TRULY laugh and not just put on my pretend smile. Maybe it's because I don't expect my garden to fall into "true garden" status, but I just hope for enough fresh produce for the summer. Maybe it's because I know she's right, AND I also know where she's coming from. Or MAYBE after almost ten years, I have arrived where mother-in-law jabs (and yes, hers are innocent and well-intended with love) no longer bother me.
My in-laws lived through the Great Depression. My mother-in-law still has her family's ration book from WWII. One of my father-in-law's favorite sayings was "Hard times are coming. Better be prepared." I can still hear him saying it. Bob would duct-tape his worn-out tennis shoes together to wear in the garden or when tending to cows or fishing. He saw no point in ruining good shoes for dirty work when his modified old ones worked just fine. He also firmly believed in planting extra crops in case some of them didn't "make." His garden filled about an acre, and filled not only his freezers but his children's and others as well. Despite what all the experts say, he never rotated his crops because he said they grew well where they were, so why change things?
Then there's me. I didn't use RoundUp on my garden area before tilling this year, and I only tilled it once. It has five rows (one of which has yet to produce anything), and grows more grass than produce. My whole "garden" could be placed on about 1/2 of one of his bean rows. When my mother-in-law saw it, the grass had not been weeded in 2.5 weeks. The grass was so bad that our yard boys couldn't tell where my garden started and mowed down my two watermelon plants. And between the wild rabbits and grass, my cabbage heads are still the size of an orange.
HENCE, I weeded this weekend. It's time to pull the snow peas up, retill, and plant something else. We've only had a few servings from them this year, and I probably won't plant them again next year. Somehow we've had two corn plants come up right outside the garden (I have NO clue how they got there). Everything else is woefully small and sad. (especially after seeing Dad's garden last week!) But I've enjoyed what little time I've spent out there. And there's still hope of it being productive later in the summer. Perhaps I'll be able to salvage part of it after all. And if not, I can chalk it up to lessons of what not to do next summer.
I am thankful I refrained from extending it further. Can you imagine how pathetic it would be if I actually had more to tend?
Fannie Farmer I'm not. And neither do I have the museum-clean expectations of other generations for my house. And for once I'm actually okay with that. I may not be tomorrow, but today I am.
Slugs or tomato worms, anyone?
My in-laws lived through the Great Depression. My mother-in-law still has her family's ration book from WWII. One of my father-in-law's favorite sayings was "Hard times are coming. Better be prepared." I can still hear him saying it. Bob would duct-tape his worn-out tennis shoes together to wear in the garden or when tending to cows or fishing. He saw no point in ruining good shoes for dirty work when his modified old ones worked just fine. He also firmly believed in planting extra crops in case some of them didn't "make." His garden filled about an acre, and filled not only his freezers but his children's and others as well. Despite what all the experts say, he never rotated his crops because he said they grew well where they were, so why change things?
Then there's me. I didn't use RoundUp on my garden area before tilling this year, and I only tilled it once. It has five rows (one of which has yet to produce anything), and grows more grass than produce. My whole "garden" could be placed on about 1/2 of one of his bean rows. When my mother-in-law saw it, the grass had not been weeded in 2.5 weeks. The grass was so bad that our yard boys couldn't tell where my garden started and mowed down my two watermelon plants. And between the wild rabbits and grass, my cabbage heads are still the size of an orange.
HENCE, I weeded this weekend. It's time to pull the snow peas up, retill, and plant something else. We've only had a few servings from them this year, and I probably won't plant them again next year. Somehow we've had two corn plants come up right outside the garden (I have NO clue how they got there). Everything else is woefully small and sad. (especially after seeing Dad's garden last week!) But I've enjoyed what little time I've spent out there. And there's still hope of it being productive later in the summer. Perhaps I'll be able to salvage part of it after all. And if not, I can chalk it up to lessons of what not to do next summer.
I am thankful I refrained from extending it further. Can you imagine how pathetic it would be if I actually had more to tend?
Fannie Farmer I'm not. And neither do I have the museum-clean expectations of other generations for my house. And for once I'm actually okay with that. I may not be tomorrow, but today I am.
Slugs or tomato worms, anyone?
Comments
I am not sad about the moving out of the nursery milestone. But I wish time could stand still right now!