April 17, 2024
April has been a mixed bag
here, weather-wise. There have been a few warm and sunny days, days that
whisper for you to come out and celebrate the season of renewal, to enjoy the
early springtime. These have even included a few instances of that wondrous
fresh-scented air. While nowhere near as common today as when I was much
younger, I still take the time to inhale deeply and feel gratitude for that
freshness. I am holding on for a day when it happens, and I can open my doors
and windows, air out the house. I do get one every spring. It’s only a matter of time.
Of course, this year, I will
have to lure the cat down into the basement for the time the doors will be open.
But the truth is that there isn’t usually much luring involved. He knows the sound of
the basement door opening, and he is so there! Smokey Kitty does like to go
down there and explore.
And on these beautiful, sunny
and nearly warm early spring days, the dogs have, to a one, all been what my
mother used to call “out-again in-again Finnegan's”. They have a touch of spring
fever, and I am happy to oblige them.
There also have been several
days of rain in April so far. There have
even been a couple of days when the temperature plummeted. Last
Saturday, daughter and I decided to make a quick run to the grocery store here
in town. I wore jeans, a tee shirt, and my new spring hoodie. And I shivered!
There was wind, and damp and oh, I was so glad to get home to my recliner and
warm blanket again.
I have reminded myself more
than once, over the course of this April of 2024, that there’s a reason for
that maxim, “April showers bring May flowers”.
Our front gardens are showing a
plenitude of robust green spears. This means, of course, that soon we’ll have
hyacinths, daffodils, tulips and lilies-of-the-valley. We did have two early-blooming
daffodils just outside our bedroom window, and that was a nice bonus. We should
see a couple more and a few tulips before too long in that spot. Those bulbs
sprout and bloom first there because that side of the house faces south, and
the morning sun, when there are no clouds, heats the vinyl which in turn helps
to heat the ground.
Because it is spring, there
has indeed been conversation here in the Ashbury household about the possibility
of veggie gardens again this year. Last autumn, when the last plant corpse had
been removed from the table gardens, David thought to scale back planting those gardens—if
indeed he planted any at all. He would, he declared, just have to wait and see.
It’s not as if he’d become
weary from the work of them last year. The last growing season required only for
him to stake the tomatoes and then reap the harvest. We had rain aplenty, and
the best darn tomato crop in ages. Ages!
But then, the beans didn’t
fare well—mind, he had started those seeds upstairs beneath the south facing,
sun-enhancing window the first week of February. That, of course, was
far too early. When those inevitably withered, he planted some green bean seeds
directly into the garden which were summarily found and enjoyed by the
squirrels and chipmunks. I told him they thought he’d been providing them a
game. Finally, he was able to plant some seeds and use a piece of mesh to protect them.
But it was a bit of a late planting, and, likely not coincidental to the
failure of the bean crop, he put them in between the tomatoes, which turned out
to be unfortunate. Those tomatoes took over every bit of space allotted to
them, as well as the space that had been meant for the beans.
This year, we’ll get him to
start those seeds in another week or two from now.
He admitted that his haste
last year had everything to do with his being anxious for spring. But starting
them too early and then not transplanting when that needed to happen was going
to greatly decrease the green bean yield.
We’ve also convinced him (we hope) to have one garden for the green
beans (no yellow beans allowed) and nothing else, and one for one kind of
tomato, and one for another kind. That will leave us with one more garden-box
to plant.
He did mention that he wanted to try to grow a
couple of squash. I think they’ll do well if he plants them in the center of
the garden. That way, as the plants spread and the squash form, they can have
the support of the boxed garden beneath them. If the soil turns too wet from
rain, we should be able to monitor the squash against rot.
My mother taught me how to
garden and had me out working outside when I was about nine years of age. We
harvested, all four of us, when the frost threatened. It was my job to scrub
everything in the tub filled with the really cold hose water. We made relishes
and pickles of the cucumbers and the beets. I helped my mother at every stage
of the “farming” process.
Then, after my mother passed
away, David and I moved into that old farmhouse, which meant we had that huge
veggie garden to use. I can’t tell you in feet and inches how big it was; I can
only say that the farmer down the road came every spring to plow the garden,
and then a couple of weeks later, he would return to disc it. Yes, with his
tractor. It cost my mother, and then us, twenty-five dollars to do that, and it
was money well spent.
We planted that garden for all
of the years that we lived in that house. David had been so angry to have been forced
to help his dad in their veggie patch as a boy, he admitted, that he really
didn’t know much about gardening. But as a young husband and father who felt
responsible for feeding us, he wanted to learn. I was happy to show him, and he
was a quick study.
My daughter and I have been
softly coaxing him that he really wants to plant again this year. Aside from
the fact that he does take pride in the accomplishment, it is the one thing
that he can still do really well.
Love,
Morgan
https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
