I really need to get out more often. Sometimes show tunes from Oklahoma pop into my head for no apparent reason, especially if I don’t get enough sleep at night. Looking out at the end of the summer garden from our porch on a lovely fall day, “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” popped into my head. I resisted the urge to spin around grandly like Julie Andrews atop a mountain meadow (since that’s the wrong musical), but since nobody else was around, I started singing it, but then I had to fix the lyrics, since our corn really didn’t do much this year.
There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow, there’s a bright golden haze on the meadow. The corn is as high as only my thigh, and the weeds look like they’re climbing clear up to the sky…oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day, I’ve got a pretty strong feeling, sometimes things don’t go my way.
Anyway, the garden is on my mind today. Anyone driving past from the road probably takes a gander and thinks, “Man, those folks should just mow down that weed patch,” or maybe at best, “Look, I see a few sunflowers in that big pile of weeds.”
All in all, if ample opportunities for learning equate success, then I’d say our first garden “on the farm” is a success. Perhaps the garden is not a success by traditional standards, but I’m all for learning and didn’t have delusions of weed-free grandeur, anyway. Without further ado, here are my Lessons Learned from Gardening:
1. Letting Kids Plant is Wonderful. Planting days with kids playing in the freshly tilled black goodness rank among my favorite days this year. I love letting kids feel ownership about our garden. They planted in a fairly free-form manner, with creative rows and non-specific marking techniques, a very fun experience. This leads me to number two…
2. Marking the Rows is Even Better. The downfall of casually marked rows is that weeds overtake the whole darn garden by the time seedlings grow big enough to identify. This isn’t any great epiphany I’ve revealed, but some things you just have to learn by experience.
3. String and Sticks: Cheap, Yet Priceless. Mark my words! Next year, sticks and strings will mark the rows! And if I forget this over the winter, please remind me so we can keep the weed population a little more in check.
4. Sunflowers are Awesome. Nothing gratifies kids and adults alike like planting a seed and seeing phenomenal growth. Our sunflowers blew past the weeds, shot up during the July drought, and just give us a grand sense of awe everytime we stand near them. It really is a little bit of magic to see something dwarf even the tall neighboring field corn. I can’t wait to have sword fights with the gigantic dried stalks. I know I can out-joust a five-year-old.
5. Eggplants and Swiss Chard Thrive in Hot and Dry Weather. We have boatloads of both in the garden.
6. We Don’t Really Like Eggplants and Swiss Chard. At least, not in the quantities they proliferated in our dirt.
7. Mulch = Good. It really works. I spread several inches of straw around our cucumber and muskmelon plants, and the areas remained fairly weed-free all summer. The sad irony: the cucumbers and muskmelon plants all died. But hey, at least they weren’t weedy, right?
8. Bugs = Bad. We didn’t use any sort of chemical herbicide or pesticide on our garden, and apparently, that made it look like a bright, shining beacon to every insect in the county. It’s hard being the organic island in the sea of treated corn fields. Bugs saw our garden patch and thought we were saying, “Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” They huddled and breathed free all over our garden, and ate our lettuce, cabbage, an entire zucchini plant, and on and on… We had a grasshopper infestation of biblical proportions, and being so well-fed in our garden, I’m sure they’ll return nice and strong next year, too. Yay.
9. Not Pickin’ a Bale o’ Cotton. My husband found a packet of cotton seeds in the novelty seeds section in a hardware store in Montana. We took them here to Minnesota, and I had grand visions of my children toiling under hot sun, learning the trade of picking cotton. The image of Sally Field, crawling on hands and knees with bloody bandaged hands, harvesting the last puffs of her cotton crop in that movie Places in the Heart came to mind. Or more likely, a home-grown cotton ball fight would’ve been a lovely way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Either way, cotton didn’t show up. It probably didn’t help that this Minnesota farm girl had no clue about cotton seedling identification. Never really weeding that part of the garden probably didn’t help, either.
10. Amish Tomatoes Rock. We bought our tomato plants from the Amish Auction, and those buggers produced like champions. Before the plants flopped over from weight of tomatoes and kid trampling, some were as tall as me (5 feet 7 inches, if you’re curious). My one-year-old daughter loves the deep burgundy-colored cherry tomatoes that grow on those plants, and frequently has tomato seeds stuck to her chin, her hair, and behind her ears. Among several failures, those tomatoes are a shining success. Hallelujah!
11. Operation Bean Tent = Success. Thankfully, our bean tent worked just as planned. The custom-engineered maple pole frame survived every windstorm, and the beans climbed up and produced just as promised on the seed package (which is more than I can say for some other seeds). Yep, those tree-trimming scrap branches and that $1 packet of bean seeds produced bucket loads of enjoyment this summer. Our tomato-eating baby girl is also now a bean-picking machine.
12. Our Soil is Par Excellence. One neighbor told us that the soil in our neck of the prairie tests as the most fertile anywhere, even better than the soil in Iowa, where people feel quite lofty about their soil quality. This makes me puff up my chest a little bit, even though I have absolutely zero influence on the innate soil quality of the area, and it was pure luck to stumble upon such nice land. Just the same, with my lackadaisical weeding practices, I fully believe in the quality of our soil. We grew weeds more resplendent than any I have ever seen before.
Finally, a few garden notices…
AWOL: Potatoes, peas, and carrots. If any of you know the whereabouts of these vegetables, please contact us. Our potatoes went AWOL after a promising beginning, and the peas and carrots never really reported for duty.
RIP: Cucumbers, pumpkins, gourds, zucchini, watermelon, and muskmelon. (Or do you call it cantaloupe? I never know what to call it.) Whether it was the bugs or the over spray from the helicopter crop dusting the nearby corn field, either way, you died before your time. You looked so promising, and so many unfulfilled dreams lay in your wake. You are missed. Thankfully, we can just resurrect you next year in our new-and-improved garden. See you then.