The Garden is Finally Planted. I Think.

You know those “find the difference” cartoons that used to appear in newspapers (and maybe still do)? The ones that featured two seemingly identical scenes and challenged you to find the different things in each one. I could have done that with the garden this week several times.

I don’t know if it is Covid Stress, natural aging or having a relatively new garden, but despite having planned and planted a vegetable garden for almost forty years, I can’t seem to settle on anything this time around.

I created two additional new beds, only to change my mind and take them back out with apologies to the yellowing grass below. I planted potatoes and then a week later, dug them back up and moved them to another patch. I sowed an entire bed to Swiss Chard only to decide that bush beans would be better suited in that spot. And then I planted a second bed of carrots there instead and put the bush beans where the cabbage was meant to go. Darcy commented that every time he looks out the window my tomato/cucumber cages (sans tomatoes or cucumbers yet thank goodness) had migrated to a different spot.

I moved the raspberries for the fourth time in three seasons. And as anyone who grows raspberries knows all too well, these are not plants who leave their former digs easily. Each time I have spent weeks rooting out suckers that keep popping up to see where all their companions went.

It’s madness. And in the case of the chard bed, horribly wasteful on my part. At least I didn’t actually plant the beans or cabbage before I changed my mind. Again.

Maybe it’s because at a time where so much has been going wrong, I am determined to at least make my tiny garden go right.

Maybe I see it as something I can control, when the future feels so uncertain. Which is silly. As I’ve said before, our future has always been uncertain and we have never been in control of anything.

But oh, the seductive illusion of thinking we can predict what will happen! Surrendering is hard.

Not surrendering is even harder.

For better or worse, the garden is planted and done. No more changes. Tonight the new transplants are settling their toes into their new homes. The seeds are swelling in their rows with my solemn vow to leave them undisturbed. Some are already up. Maybe they decided they had better get on with it before I had time to change my mind.

Peas are poking their way through…

Salad greens are up….

And despite their crazy disruptive move, most of the potatoes have sprouted as well.

Isn’t this potato gorgeous? I love the purple etching. This variety is Rode Eesteling

There are apple, plum, pear and haskap blooms promising what’s to come. I have spent several joy filled moments watching bumblebees tumbling amongst the blossoms. Fingers crossed we will soon see small balls of fruit forming.

Apple Blossoms on the espalier tree.

I love this time of year. It is so full of hope and possibility. It is this continuous cycle of planning, seeding, growing, hoping, harvesting, gratitude, rest and back to planning again, that I find eternally fulfilling in so many ways.

Even when I am being crazy indecisive.

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