Sunday...a day of rest? It’s more like a day to be able to get back to physical mobility enough to make it through the workweek.
Saturday Art, Nick, my dad and I spent most of the day cleaning up the back corner of our property. It was, I am ashamed to admit, still a bit messy from last Memorial Day’s storm when the weather dumped its wrath on our poor little community.
We have quite a large piece of property, but most people don’t know it because we have it divided by fences because we have always had animals. I like to garden, and the two do not do well together. Most of the animals are gone now. There are no 4-H rabbits, and only our one dog instead of three, along with my dad’s two when he’s here.
There is really no need to pen in our dog as she is too old and lacks the ambition to tear up much of anything. Being female, her leg and toilet habits are really not an issue with the garden, so she spends next to no time in her fenced-in yard.
Last year we put the corn patch out there and the raspberries grow along the south side. The storm made a mess in the far northern corner of our property and some of the branches required a chain saw to clean up. In come the men in my family, I’ve never met a man who doesn’t like to use a chain saw. Power, danger, destructiveness, and noise—it has everything a male loves! If it could only stack the wood and haul the brush away, then I would be in awe of it also.
My son learned to use a chain saw and he and his grandfather, Bill Wollter, made short work of a big mess. They also cleaned up the fencerow and made a nice big pile at the curb so the city workers can have job security. I will let you in on a little secret: I’m getting old. I know this because after eight hours of hauling brush and raking, my body feels like I was in a fight and definitely lost.
Many people know that I am a nurse and work in a doctor’s office. It is an extremely fast-paced place with many patients seen every day. I needed my Sunday this week more than ever as I can’t walk upright without feeling pain. I’m old, I tell you. I do this to myself every spring and summer with the gardening. I get so wrapped up in it that I forget tomorrow is another day and it doesn’t all need done at once, or so they tell me.
The ground was so soft yesterday I was able to pull the remaining corn stalks and Art harvested the rest of our carrots from the garden. I thought they would be burned from the cold, but nope, they are beautiful and very sweet. Must be like turnips—sweeter with age.
I read a magazine called Mary Jane’s Farm. The point of it is to get people to rethink the use of everyday objects so they don’t wind up in the garbage. Someone has some time on their hands as they come up with wonderful ideas, and the magazine is just full of them.
One item noted was starting seedlings for the garden. Since now is the time to be doing that, it was a timely article. The idea was to use three or four empty toilet paper rolls cut in half and tied together and filled with potting soil to start seedlings. After the plants harden off and are ready to plant outdoors, just plant the toilet paper roll with the plants, as it is biodegradable. What a fabulous idea. It’s less expensive than peat pots, which usually have a difficult time breaking down anyway. I know I am going to give this a try, I just need some paper rolls. Doesn’t any one need to use the restroom around here?