Hug a Farmer!

Planting a vegetable garden is hard work. It is without a standing ovation or a boatload of thanks. It is, however, a labour of love. What else could it be? When was the last time we hugged a farmer?

A few weeks ago, my daughter-in-law and I decided to plant a small vegetable garden, quite unexpectedly. Upon surveying the space we had to work in, it became apparent this newest garden might have a chance of producing a harvest of sorts. The four tall evergreens, in varying degrees of decay, were no longer there, having been removed last year. In their place was space and the sun's life giving touch.

In each of the past two summers, a suitable garden site, in an adjacent location, had been thoughtfully chosen and its planting, carefully executed by our youngest son and his girlfriend, Lucy, my editor. Few vegetables remained after the long summer of weeding and tender loving care. Oh where were those vegetables? It could only mean that sun was lacking. Everything else was not. Every technicality had been addressed- including soil preparation- beforehand, yet the results after many months of care was an insult to human ingenuity and hard work. Our son and Lucy had toiled to bring their organic seeds to fruition. It was a sad end to an expected bountiful season. Alas, the only result of that lackluster harvest was the experience it had provided all of us. We learned a lot though I am not sure what that was.

Several weeks ago, an impromptu garden was begun in an area used repeatedly over several summers - two decades ago - to plant tomatoes, hot banana peppers, a few green beans, chives and dill. (In the interim, however, our 16-year-old son had landscaped the area to give us a green-land oasis in amongst the tall evergreen trees that stood within this space.) ... In his genius, our son was able to sculpt the Canadian flag into the design, adding to this picturesque landscape. ) Prior to his magical touch, crops had been planted, yearly, with life giving compost, a gift for the trees, at season's end. ... Near the end of my planting era, back then, it was obvious the trees, ever so tall and luxurious, were benefiting from the many gardens I had planted, winning the game of last plant standing. They stood ever so stately, as they took the glorious sun from the miniature plants beneath them. .. Whatever vegetables I could harvest, from my seasons of hosting a vegetable garden, I canned or simply froze, leaving behind a trail of dismal expectations. The trees grew, in response to the compost left behind by past vegetable gardens. Last year these trees were cut down. Their decay and continued impact on our foundation signaled the decision for their removal. Their time had come - as with all living things. It was also a time for renewal. Next year, something else would occupy the space where these trees and an English garden once lived and thrived. 

This summer's new garden was planted with an energized Momsey, daughter, and insights galore.. Maybe this garden would grow. We would begin anew at farming.  There were two minds, again, to tackle this late summer madness of planting, hopefully, a new and improved garden in the same place as the original vegetable gardens of many years ago. ... Last year's garden had to be moved. Two attempts at farming there had failed. It had been an unfair experience for all. ... As my husband drove out west for family, friends and a high school reunion, I was left to mind the children: Mr. Wiggles, our one-year-old retriever, his sisters, Miss S, our 5 year old retriever, his older and much wiser sibling and Tiggy, our 11 year old kitty who was doing her best to eat, sleep, and be merry. With mosquitoes in tow, fresh cut lemons, a natural repellent for their unwelcome attention and humidity in abundance, my daughter and I began to plant the 'simple' garden of our dreams, the staples of our diet.

Hot banana/bell peppers, assorted tomatoes, and herbs of every type: basil, oregano, chives, sage, bay leaves and stevia, a first for us, went into the prepared soil.. Would they grow? We checked the time of greatest sunlight. We knew the animals in our midst would love to feast upon our green delights. The Chipmunks, wild rabbits and insects, too, were waiting. Protective barriers of all sorts would make the taking of our valuable green commodities a challenge.  Nothing was left to chance! The soil was primed for its duty. More topsoil /special mix was gingerly added after the planting was done. Between us both, we would do our utmost to bring this harvest home. ... Rain was in plentiful supply, now. Watering would be done as needed. Weeding was ongoing as was a prayer for much needed sun. There were days that the sun rose, then hid from view, knowing its power over our garden was a critical element to the delicate balancing act of nutrient rich soil, sunlight, water and green 'healthy' plants. (Food didn't grow on trees!!) Already something was amiss, though. Our three oregano plants died! ...What had I done to make this happen? I hoped to find out soon because many other plants depend upon me knowing.

New oregano plants were purchased and re-planted. Perhaps the originals were inferior from the beginning or simply a reminder that gardening is intelligent hard work. ...We play at gardening, sometimes. Farmers of all kinds do it for a living. They grow food for mankind! ... Hug a farmer! They deserve it!