saved, maybe

Had I known how hard this garden project at Steffi's House would be, would have I still been so enthusiastic about it? Probably not. I may have done it incrementally. Consulted with gardeners. Perhaps doing it entirely differently. But, here I am, smack in the middle of it, disgusted with the horrible base (I refuse to call it soil) that wont let me work a shovel into it. 

I want to take this morning slowly, but once again, I am sleep deprived and just a little worried that I'll have too throw more money on the whole thing, money that honestly just isn't waiting to be used for this, in the scheme of things, frivolous pursuit. 

Breakfast, outside, but I cannot read. I have pressing decisions to make, emails piling up -- so, a quick meal...

(farmette peonies: three types of pink, a white, and a yellow)

 

 

And just as I'm about to retreat to the computer, Ed calls and tells me he's ready to meet me at Steffi's House to help me dig.

I put Millie in her crate and head out. 

And once we dig in (ha!), I get this reaction from Ed: "you're right... this soil is impossible to break up with a shovel."

But he doesn't stop there. He goes back to the farmette to get his pick-axe. 

The upshot? In 3.5 hours we get the rest of the bed planted. Well, not entirely -- I still have some bulbs and roots of dayl ilies to put in and about a half dozen other plants that haven't yet arrived, but that's peanuts! Ed really saved this whole project for me.

There was a price to pay: I had to listen to him explain to me how I went about it all wrong. He would have, instead, gotten a truckload of chips and dumped them heavily on the sod and waited for it to die off. I nod sympathetically. There are a million things not to my liking in that idea, but he and I often choose different paths to a goal and having him explain the imperfections of my approach is a tiny price to pay for the effort and work he did for that flower field.

Ed did want to see if I could work the pick-axe. Short answer -- I couldn't. Not much was accomplished by my swinging it. I settled for having him stab at the ground, while I carried the rocky junk away to a vacant lot, planting the tiny plants with the help of farmette soil, and watering all of them. And by 12:30, we stopped. I had Millie waiting for me (and it was quite a wait -- at 3.5 hours, her longest one ever).

In the afternoon I attended to my girl and the plants on the porch, and of course, I prepped dinner. The young family is here tonight -- their last dinner at Sally's House!

I like the chaos of it all. For once I do not want to think about plants and garden work. The distraction is plain wonderful.

 

(Millie remains the star attraction)

 

 

 

(After a rough and happy play, the two dogs exhale...)

 

Evening quiet: I'll aim to post early tonight, with the hope that this will push me earlier to bed and to sleep. It's supposed to work that way, no?

with so much love...