Extreme Gardening. Boot Camp Style.

Dear Sarah,

First, let me start off by saying I am not dead, nor have I given up on our project. I have been a little busy at life, work 1, and work 2.

I LOVE your playlist suggestions. I need to shake mine up a bit and can see the Bosstones, The Black Eyed Peas, and some Outkast making their way on to the treadmill with me.

I am done with my training for work 2. Competency tests passed and ready to be a bona-fide crab-hustler. I am very glad that phase is finished and I can be an independent being making money for herself.

Speaking of work 2… I was supposed to go in tonight and got an unexpected call saying they had too many crab-husters already on the schedule and that I was not needed. It was 4:30, GORGEOUS in Baltimore, and I headed straight to the garden. (after a brief trip to Home Depot to replace some weathered spades and purchase seed tape).

The man-cub did not protest (largely due to a hole-digging adventure I have sanctioned in the untilled portion of my plot).

I was really excited to stumble upon my good buddy, Herb, hard at work in his own 9 + plots. (I have no idea if he eats all he grows or just uses the garden as his escape from his wife during his long days or retirement). The first thing he said to me, as I was wearing similar to my workout/gym attire, was “Damn, Girl! What did you do over the winter? You look good!” 

(Now, for anyone reading my very public letter to Sarah, know that Herb does not fit into the “creepy old-man”  category. He is my friend and a very appropriate gentleman.)

I was ECSTATIC to say the least. I forget how different I look sometimes and get pleasantly surprised when others remind me that my hard work is paying off.

I was very motivated to finish the clean-up of my garden, boot camp style.

I weeded, hoed, removed debris, and fertilized like I was sprinting. Man-cub was enlisted to make “bucket dumps” to the weed pile as I needed them. He carried six or  seven 5 gallon bucketful’s of weeds to the pile outside of the garden fence.

I manured in my beds, converted my long, conduit trellis into 2 smaller more manageable ones, and untangled a snarling mess of tomato cages.

Sweaty and tired, I relished in my accomplishments. I found a little SANTOSHA in my deeds, in myself, and in the hopes for a plentiful summer’s bounty.

~ E

P.S.

I left him to guard my BLOOMING strawberry patch.

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One response

  1. This post fills me with joy and a little envy, as I look out the back window over my own neglected garden beds. Please cross your fingers for fast healing, a stronger back, and some great weekend weather up here.

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