Upon arrival, no one was in sight and I lugged all my gardening crap out to the lower forty, otherwise known as Plot 68, in relative silence. As I headed back to the van for my second load I ran into the Smeltzers as they loaded each others arms as well as the arms of their children with their own implements and crap. I was pretty happy to find them there since I don't know what the hell I'm doing and need others to help toss ideas around.
Back at plot 68 I opened my bag of peat and spread it evenly as I could over the garden and with the vim, vigor and determination of a 20 year old I began turning the soil with my shovel in earnest. Again and again I dug up shovel fulls of dirt only to dump it right back on the ground and move over a step to do it again. I worked. I sweated. I grunted and complained. I told everyone within earshot how I was too old for this stuff. I struck poses and once again dreamed of kiddie pools full of water. Before I knew it I had turned approximately 36 square feet of garden earth and as I turned, leaning on my shovel of course, to survey the remaining 252 square feet, Mrs. Smeltzer spoke,
"Hey. There's Answer Man over by the rototiller. Maybe he could till your plot again."
Well, that was enough for me. Dropping my shovel, I headed over to Answer Man and the rototiller at what must have been nearly a full sprint, and between gasps I asked him if he was planning on starting it up.
"Yup", answered Answer Man (because answers are what he's all about) "Do you want your garden tilled one more time?"
Now, I'm assuming he asked me this question in an effort of some sort to teach me to be an answer man myself, so in my most authoritative and confident voice I replied,
"Please? Would you mind?"
I guess I failed the answer man pop quiz seeing as how I answered with a question. No matter. I have all summer to learn this skill. I'll get it eventually. Answer Man did have pity on me, however, and after a bit of rope tugging and choke adjusting and rope tugging and whatever engaging and more rope tugging along with some gas pouring we were able to get that damned tiller going and good ol' Answer Man steered it to plot 68 where he did a bang up and mighty fine job of tilling the rest of that peat into the soil...
...and within minutes I was ready to begin planting some seeds.
Now during all this Mr. and Mrs. Smeltzer had added lime and fertilizer to their soil, Mr. Smeltzer had then divided his garden into four even sections by raking or hoeing a big cross through the middle of the plot, and Mrs. smeltzer and her two boys, Matthew and Jeremy, had begun the planting. Boy, things were moving along quite nicely over there.
Now do you remember me mentioning my new best friend at Agri-Shop? Well, she sold me this lovely cast iron dealy with a spike connected to the end of some twine. At the other end of this twine is another spike, but with a wide section in the middle for rolling up the twine. The idea is to stick the first spike in the ground where you want the end of your planting row to be, then unrolling the twine from the other spike, carry it to the spot you want the other end of your row and stick it into the ground. If this is done correctly you then have a beautiful guide to follow when hoeing out a place for your seeds. It was as I was studiously following these directions that Mr. Smeltzer dubbed me "the anal retentive gardener". I suppose this may be true, (though I highly doubt it) but at least my rows are straight.
Anyway...half the garden is now planted. Nearest to you in the picture, starting from the right I planted radishes, spinach, carrots, two kids of beets and brocolli. On the far side I planted both green peas and sugar snap peas.
Now screw the rest, Mr. Self Starter. I'll get it next week.
--It's Fosco, Dammit!
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