Friday, August 07, 2009

It's My Camera's Fault

We were still in Michigan, when Gil began describing to me the status of my garden. He had been munching on cucumbers still, and the tomatoes had ripened. A watermelon opened up to display juicy red sweet flesh, and a few carrots were eaten as a tasty snack.

He also described the intense heat, and the damage it was inflicting on the garden as a whole. However, he continued . . . it was remarkable! The potatoes were thriving! So much so that one particular potatoe plant had shot up to the height of a man! How strange, he commented, but, shrugging his shoulders, he was glad that something would remain that I could enjoy upon our return.

Fast forward to that day. I surveyed the garden quickly, taking note of the loss of many green bean plants; the newly planted crop of lettuce and second batch of carrots. The spinach? Forget it. The second crop of sweet corn was barely knee high, and appeared as though it would falter at any moment. No hope, the garden seemed to be saying to me.

It was a shock, after the gargantuan growth and flourish it had displayed just before we left. Yet, who could deny the impact of almost six weeks of extreme temperatures (even for Mississippi!) and the accompanying drought?

Rains had come, but too little, too late it seemed.

About a week after arriving home we received a major thunderstorn. The following morning, I took the DellDog on his morning potty break, choosing to walk by the garden.

What greeted me stunned me: lettuce leaves were peeking through the ground! The green beans? Once burned to a crisp? Renewing their efforts to produce leaves! The sweet corn had added stature, and behold! Carrot tops looked out into the square foot garden box I'd assigned them.

Amazing! I thrilled in the reprieve, and went inside, my heart happy.

Over the course of the next few days, I carefully doted on the little garden, attempting a comeback. Each day, the potatoes reached out to me with their greenery, beconing me to lovingly gaze upon their progress, too. The tall spindly plant seemed to be the boss, but the others didn't seem to mind that he'd taken charge of the ranks . . .

Wait a minute!

That tall dude. Let me take a closer look . . .

Well I'll be!

Mr. Tall and Spindly was TRESPASSING on my potatoe patch!

As tall as I, and lush . . . this plant was a WEED!

I took matters into my own hands, wrapped my fingers around his more than 1 inch circumfrenced stalk, and yanked him out of the ground.

There! Take that! I thought, as I dusted off my hands in the early morning sun.

No more take over of the potatoe patch on my watch!

This morning, the potatoes are happy, singing still to me as I walk by. Mr. T & S has lost his vigor - lying prostrate in the nearby patch of woods that I tossed him into.

He'll have to propogate on someone else's watch.

My only regret is that I didn't snap photos, before, during and after. Ah well . . . let's just say, it's my camera's fault! LOL

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

How funny that the weed was thought to be a potato plant. I'd so do that!

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