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<\/a><\/p>\nThen I filled the woodpile next to the house. \u00a0With the little pieces for during the day on one side and the big pieces for at night on the other. \u00a0So that you wouldn’t have to pull the whole pile apart to get what you need. \u00a0See, there is some <\/em> hope for my generation.<\/p>\n Then the snow arrived as promised and I spent the next few days, snowbound, and reading, watching the birds at the birdfeeder, and doing a puzzle. \u00a0Because apparently I am a 70 year old woman living inside in a 44 year old woman’s body. \u00a0(Also, because those things keep my mind off the piles of wet clothes by the woodstove and the trails of slush tracked all through the house.)<\/p>\n But all that wasn’t what I knew was coming. \u00a0It was the aftermath. \u00a0The mud.<\/p>\n Mud season is tough for me. \u00a0Perhaps you get Seasonal Affective Disorder from lack of sunshine. \u00a0We get enough sunshine here, but in the country the snow, ice, and winter rain is followed by the kind of mud that tries to steal my soul. \u00a0During mud season I hate my yard and my barn because I am forced to wear boots or feel mud oozing between my toes in flip flops. \u00a0My feet feel like they are being tortured or even worse, like they live up north, when I have to wear something other flip flips. \u00a0I hate my children and my pets because they insist on bringing all that mud inside. \u00a0Constantly. \u00a0I mean, they will traipse right past me with muddy shoes on when I am standing with the mop in my hand. \u00a0And I really, really, really hate my driveway.<\/p>\n The only safe place is, ironically, the garden. \u00a0Oh there’s plenty of dirt in the garden. \u00a0But it sits on a slight south-facing slope so the water drains away and the sun shines in. \u00a0Also, there’s always something growing in the garden–even if it’s just chickweed—and sucking up the water. \u00a0So it’s generally a mud-free zone.<\/p>\n But it’s not a work-free zone. \u00a0I always leave my plants up after the last frost. \u00a0Because I don’t have an HOA that makes me tear that mess down. \u00a0And because I know at some point during the mud season, I need a chance to get away from the muddy floors in my house, the muck in the barn, and feel solid ground under my feet. \u00a0Because I might need to think about something other than the crack across my entire windshield which absolutely did not, could not, certainly did not happen when the kids were scraping my window for me after the snow storm. \u00a0Impossible.<\/p>\n When the sun finally broke out and the temps were in the \u00a060’s I set out to the garden to see what needed to be done. \u00a0The 60’s feel amazing after snow and ice. \u00a0It’s hard to even watch where you’re walking when you’re taking in the bright blue skies.<\/p>\n Even the koi came out to get a peek.<\/p>\n Some of the garden was OK. \u00a0My rows covers will protect veggies down to 20 degrees. \u00a0But quite a few veggies actually survived the snow and temps down to 0 degrees.<\/p>\n I almost pulled up the mushy remains of broccoli but I spotted mini-brocoli heads trying to regrow. \u00a0Well, let’s be honest. \u00a0I pulled up a bunch of broccoli plants before I noticed the mini-broccoli heads. So I left the ones in place that I hadn’t already murdered by yanking them up and throwing them in the scraps pile.<\/p>\n The cabbage was a loss.<\/p>\n But the catmint was flourishing without any protection at all. \u00a0In a cool range of hues and an invigorating scent every time you brushed against it.<\/p>\n The rest of the garden was a shambles.<\/p>\n I originally left the remaining peppers in place in the hopes that they would dry on the plants. \u00a0And because Little already complains about the “rotting veggies” hanging in the kitchen window. \u00a0Drying peppers inside isn’t aesthetically pleasing to him. \u00a0Aw. \u00a0Poor thing.<\/p>\n I also left the peppers in the garden because I couldn’t pick one more pepper. \u00a0Not. \u00a0One. \u00a0More. \u00a0But my plan didn’t work out. \u00a0The peppers didn’t look nice and dried out as much as wilted and mushy.<\/p>\n So they came up with the rest of the frost-killed plants. \u00a0The tomatoes, the eggplants, the melon and squash vines, the sunflower stalks. \u00a0Even the okra. \u00a0Although the okra had some nice dried seeds in the pods which I saved for next year. \u00a0So you can<\/em> dry okra seeds right on the plants.<\/p>\n Everything went into a burn pile outside of the garden gate for Big.<\/p>\n Then I went back to to get the millions of twine snippets attached to the cattle panel. \u00a0Trellising tomatoes to cattle panels is a great idea and the twine is free from the hay rolls in the barn. \u00a0But eventually the twine frays, falls off the panels onto the ground, and tries to assassinate the lawn mower. \u00a0So I have to cut off the twine and toss it in the brush pile for burning. \u00a0It’s a lot of little pieces.<\/p>\n A lot of a lot.<\/p>\n Sometimes there’s nothing to do but get to doing. \u00a0So I worked my way down the rows, cutting off the snippets, dropping the twine into the wheelbarrow, listening to my walkman, and basking in the sun on my face. \u00a0Eventually I accidentally cut the cords to my ear buds. \u00a0Which would have been upsetting except it happens regularly in the garden. \u00a0That’s why I only use dollar store ear buds when I’m working in the garden with scissors. \u00a0Know thy weaknesses, people. \u00a0Know thy weaknesses.<\/p>\n Next I went back to gather my tomato waterers. \u00a0The waterers were just milk jugs stuck upside down next to the tomato plants. \u00a0The jugs enabled me to deep water the tomatoes without splashing the leaves or spending hours running the hose. \u00a0I considered carefully rinsing them out but then I decided the winter rains could finish that job for me. \u00a0Winter rains should be good for something. \u00a0So I just hung them with a bungee cord to the fence for next season.<\/p>\n With the brush gone, the twine removed, and the waterers out of the way, I went back and raked out the rows. \u00a0Which were loaded with loose peppers; they were all over the garden.<\/p>\n I added them to the burn pile before it dawned on me. \u00a0Burning all those peppers was probably a homemade recipe for pepper spray. \u00a0I’m not exactly sure how to fix that dilemma. \u00a0Goggles? \u00a0Gas mask? \u00a0Light the burn pile and run away? \u00a0Why does everything get so complicated so quickly?<\/p>\n At least the newly cleaned and raked rows were enough to steal back huge chunks of my soul from the driveway mud.<\/p>\n It was like mopping the floors without watching anyone walk back over them in muddy shoes. \u00a0Right in front of you.<\/p>\n Looking at the rake marks was like my own personal zen garden.<\/p>\n With all the debris gone, I started laying out my garden tarps to cover the empty rows and protect the beds from the creeping invasion of chickweed. \u00a0I held the tarps in place with rocks from my rock pile. \u00a0The garden grows rocks just as well as veggies, sometimes even better. \u00a0All year long I pile them in the corner of the garden and then retrieve them as needed. \u00a0I keep my rock bucket next to them. \u00a0The rock bucket is a just an old bucket that has some holes so it can’t be used for water anymore. \u00a0But the bottom is not too rusted out to carry rocks.<\/p>\n It’s hard to describe how much I like the rock bucket. \u00a0It’s just so simple. \u00a0It’s not as heavy as a wheelbarrow full of rocks. \u00a0It makes a wonderful thunk sound when you drop rocks into it. \u00a0It has a delightful swing to it when you walk. \u00a0And that broken down bucket reminds me of a song my mother used to sing to me when I was a child called “Hole in the bucket.”<\/p>\n There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Eliza, dear Eliza! There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Eliza, A HOLE!<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, FIX IT!<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>With what shall I fix it, dear Eliza, dear Eliza With what shall I fix it, dear Eliza, WITH WHAT!<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, WITH STRAW!<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>The straw is too long, dear Eliza, dear Eliza The straw is too long, dear Eliza, TOO LONG!<\/span><\/p>\n Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, CUT IT! With what shall I cut it, dear Eliza, dear Eliza With what shall I cut it, dear Eliza, WITH WHAT! With a knife, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry With a knife, dear Henry, dear Henry, A KNIFE! The knife is too dull, dear Eliza, dear Eliza The knife is too dull, dear Eliza, TOO DULL! Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, SHARPEN IT! With what shall I sharpen it, dear Eliza, dear Eliza With what shall I sharpen it, dear Eliza, WITH WHAT! With a rock, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry With a rock, dear Henry, dear Henry, A ROCK! The rock is too dry, dear Eliza, dear Eliza The rock is too dry, dear Eliza, TOO DRY! Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, WET IT! With what shall I wet it, dear Eliza, dear Eliza With what shall I wet it, dear Eliza, WITH WHAT! With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, WAAATER! With what shall I fetch it, dear Eliza, dear Eliza With what shall I fetch it, dear Eliza, WITH WHAT! With a bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry With a bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, BUUUCKET! BUT…There’s a hole in the bucket dear Eliza, dear Eliza There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Eliza, A HOLE! and then it repeats…<\/span><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
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