"Nice Furrows!"
Jun. 3rd, 2011 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apple_pathwaysThe weather has finally let up, and we're able to start our plot in the community garden! Hooray!
Since my dad is retired and officially has Nothing Better To Do, my mother has recruited him to help with the gardening. (Which is good, since she can't really do any of it herself.) We went out yesterday morning to see if the Guy we hired had roto-tilled yet, but he hadn't. He did it that afternoon, and so my parents went out while I was at work to start making the hills. They were able to finish the back three, which are the big (3 ft wide) ones set aside for my pumpkins, squash, melons and the beans and peas.
This morning, they left to visit my brother in Indianapolis before he and his wife move to California. So I get to put together the rest of the garden by myself. It's a big job, but honestly: I'm psyched. My mother drives me nuts. She can't do anything herself, so instead she satisfies herself by playing Foreman and trying to dictate my every move. (Those who know me can imagine how well this goes over.) And my dad: well, he handles it even less well than I do. And with more shouting.
So today, I went out and finished digging out the rows. (Building up my awesome Ditch Digger arms!) I bought some organic fertilizer and raked it and some compost into the back mounds and planted the pumpkins, squash, and melons and gave them a good watering. I also spent some time chatting and catching up with my community garden neighbors.
Now, I may very well be the youngest gardener out there by about 10 years--I'm certainly the only one under 30. (Not counting this weird, commune-like community group that's renting a plot. I swear, they have about 20 people working one little square, most of whom are just standing around.) Despite being the age of many of my neighbor's grandchildren, I fit in scarily well. I spent about five minutes talking to a woman about my cultivator tool. (It's ergonomic. BOO YA!) Another neighbor told me I had "nice furrows!" "Why, thank you!" I replied coyly. :P
And so commences my exciting summer social life of chatting to middle-aged retirees about weeding and hose attachments!
In other happy news: my new iPod is here (oh, how I missed you, my love!) and Trade Secret is having some massive clearance sale and I bought a bag full of expensive-smelling hair products for just $17.00. I also got two bottles of OPI nail polish for $1.50 each. They were originally $12.50 a pop because they contain diamond dust! Ooh, how decadent! I'm gonna have to wait until the heavy digging is over to paint my nails, though: I haven't much to speak of at the moment.
Since my dad is retired and officially has Nothing Better To Do, my mother has recruited him to help with the gardening. (Which is good, since she can't really do any of it herself.) We went out yesterday morning to see if the Guy we hired had roto-tilled yet, but he hadn't. He did it that afternoon, and so my parents went out while I was at work to start making the hills. They were able to finish the back three, which are the big (3 ft wide) ones set aside for my pumpkins, squash, melons and the beans and peas.
This morning, they left to visit my brother in Indianapolis before he and his wife move to California. So I get to put together the rest of the garden by myself. It's a big job, but honestly: I'm psyched. My mother drives me nuts. She can't do anything herself, so instead she satisfies herself by playing Foreman and trying to dictate my every move. (Those who know me can imagine how well this goes over.) And my dad: well, he handles it even less well than I do. And with more shouting.
So today, I went out and finished digging out the rows. (Building up my awesome Ditch Digger arms!) I bought some organic fertilizer and raked it and some compost into the back mounds and planted the pumpkins, squash, and melons and gave them a good watering. I also spent some time chatting and catching up with my community garden neighbors.
Now, I may very well be the youngest gardener out there by about 10 years--I'm certainly the only one under 30. (Not counting this weird, commune-like community group that's renting a plot. I swear, they have about 20 people working one little square, most of whom are just standing around.) Despite being the age of many of my neighbor's grandchildren, I fit in scarily well. I spent about five minutes talking to a woman about my cultivator tool. (It's ergonomic. BOO YA!) Another neighbor told me I had "nice furrows!" "Why, thank you!" I replied coyly. :P
And so commences my exciting summer social life of chatting to middle-aged retirees about weeding and hose attachments!
In other happy news: my new iPod is here (oh, how I missed you, my love!) and Trade Secret is having some massive clearance sale and I bought a bag full of expensive-smelling hair products for just $17.00. I also got two bottles of OPI nail polish for $1.50 each. They were originally $12.50 a pop because they contain diamond dust! Ooh, how decadent! I'm gonna have to wait until the heavy digging is over to paint my nails, though: I haven't much to speak of at the moment.