Catching Up on Recent History

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I moved again, two and something years ago, and this will be my third garden in this little patch. I’ve changed its size and shape every year as I’ve searched for a manageable size and best, or at least better, practices. The first year I made it as big as I had fencing for, and because I had a more or less full time assistant who shared with me a gardening addiction. We harvested a lot of food, although between tending the garden and putting up its bounty it was almost more work than fun. Almost.
Then, just as the year two garden was getting underway, I was diagnosed with a recurrence of the cancer that tried to kill me once before. That garden’s success was due, almost exclusively, to Sarah’s hard work, with a sizable assist from her sweet companion Gene. They did the lion’s share and I mostly watched and kibitzed. Kibitz is a word of Yiddish origin and refers to a person who gives advice and commentary whether asked for or not. It’s akin to the back-seat-driver syndrome. That was me last year.
But then late last fall, Sarah was sidelined by her own health problems, and was also faced with the more pleasant prospect of a new domestic life with Gene, back at her own home in Arkansas. So I was faced this spring with the reality of doing a garden mostly on my own, and with strength and stamina seriously sapped by the effects of prolonged radiation treatments and coming to terms generally with the fact that although my head is still in my 40s, my body has entered it’s seventh decade and is not remotely interested in finding extra work to do. So I downsized. Details, more, probably, than you’d care to hear, to follow.
Here are a few of the hundreds of photos Sarah took of the 2013 garden.
Marideth

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My Addiction – My Garden

IMG_0335I started this garden column literally decades ago, before there was an internet, actually, when I was a reporter at The West Plains Quill and we were doing our writing on those Tandy green-screen computers with no memory. That meant if you saved your story to disk and there was something wrong with the disk, you got to do it over. One day, after I’d been waxing eloquently in the newsroom about the wonders of my then current garden, I was handed the gardening page. I was delighted, because I have lots of opinions about gardening, as well as a passion for all things gardening, not the least of which is growing one. I lived in lots of places in my life, and have gardened whenever and wherever possible, including the most of a year I spent in New England and planted a garden I would never harvest. At my age, planting fruit trees are likely to come to the same result. I can’t help it. It’s an addiction.
The only thing that scratches the itch other than having my hands in the dirt is talking about it. And since I live alone with no close neighbors, I’m way more likely to be doing my talking in typescript, even digital typescript. So I’m firing up this long neglected blog space to scratch the itch, and natter on and on about gardening. I’ll tell about what I’m doing out there in the dirt, what I’m thinking about doing, or used to do, or may still do. And since number 3 on my addiction list is books about gardening, I’ll be talking about those as well. Join me, if you will.
Marideth