Lost in the weeds for a couple of days with my trusty garden hoe. Remember, this is my first large garden, so as we design and plant, the weeds tend to overrun the planting-completed sections. Since I'm living with my arrogant decision to avoid black plastic sheeting, I have a much more folksy garden, and hopefully the hay we are spreading will keep the weeds down. So far, so good.
I'm really sorry about this American Gothic bastardization. When I decide to post this image of myself, on the penultimate day before my 53rd birthday, I choose to check out Grant Wood's 1930 masterpiece to see if I've taken on the same gaunt no-nonsense look of Wood's original subjects.
O.K., so I grew up on the satire of National Lampoon Magazine. Those who do not know what I am talking about, ask your parents. I, therefore, cannot resist the irreverent parody of this depression-era work. It is childish. I hope it makes someone laugh. Interestingly, Grant Wood was reported to say, "All the good ideas I've ever had came to me while I was milking a cow." I feel the same way about working in a field, although it is still too soon to decide if the ideas are good!
Sooo... the tomatoes are almost completely weeded, along with 70 hills of cucumbers, about the same number of pepper plants. The pumpkins are awesome... now that we can see them. Deb got me started, weeding the pumpkins before she had to leave for the afternoon. There are five rows of pumpkins. Each row is over fifty feet long, and by the time I finish cleaning out the rows, my fingers are stained black, and a blister on the palm of my left hand has broken. Combine that with a nettle attack on my right hand, and there is sufficient reason to call it a day at four p.m.
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