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May 20, 2014: The Garden of Weedin’

Last night, at 9:45 p.m., after eating, I suggested to Pete that we do some work in the high tunnel. I was getting concerned about the kitchen squash seedlings, which at least, in my estimation, needed more space. As I told Pete, if they did not soon get transplanted, they’d wither up and die. Then there they would sit for the remainder of the garden season, on our counter, visible indicators of a high degree of neglect.

I understood what Pete was saying in an indirect fashion, that this particular task was going to take time and effort. I said that we ought to at least scope out the

situation, which we did. As I understood it, we’d need to empty the five gallon buckets full of dirt into the right side row. Then we’d need to break the soil clods up with our hands. Pete then demonstrated: Like Pig Pen, he was then surrounded in a cloud of dust. After, we’d need to make mounds, put dish-like depressions in the mounds, plant the squash, and then water it. And so, this is what we did.

I also planted the four chocolate sunflowers that Patty Rosnell gave me a few weeks before. One had a partially broken stem so I was extra careful planting it. When done, I found four sticks and staked them out.

While working, I thought some about gardening. No, this is not, and will not ever be, my favorite activity. As I explained previously, I get to feeling overwhelmed by all that needs to be done. But then I got to thinking – maybe I do have the gene. In this case, the gene broadly, rather than narrowly, defined. Maybe this gene is related to the ability to care for something or someone other than myself.

At first, Adam and Eve cared for the plants in their garden. Then they ate a bad apple. They no longer cared about the plants in the garden, and subsequently became hunters and gatherers. This is my take on the Old Testament.

Maybe, just maybe, our garden projects have because of their size, been put off by the prospect of gardening. I have decided this year to put my idea about self-genetics to the test, by getting on top of and staying on top of our gardening project. This is what I’m now doing. And interestingly enough, I’m feeling a decided change of attitude about all that’s involved in gardening. This year, I know what’s being planted where. And I’m being judicious about pulling rocks and weeding. Pete is going to water, but I will do so in his absence.

I’m now feeling less overwhelmed and more focused. And in feeling more focused, I’m feeling more caring. And in feeling more caring, I’m feeling more nurturing.

I suspect that plants, like animals (ahem), feel the love when we tend to them, and consequently do better than they might do otherwise. And this year, I care. I want the sunflowers, garlic, and lettuce (which is all we have planted thus far) to thrive. “Plants,” I say, “be happy!”

If everything we plant is weeded, watered, and talked to, the end result will be good produce – something that we were lacking last winter because (I think) our garden sitter became overwhelmed, consequently letting much go to seed. The positive energy will become our positive energy. This works with the animals, so it ought to work with plants.

This, for me is a bit of a stretch, because, given my druthers, I’d druther be working with the animals. But I am going to assist Pete in producing a mighty fine garden. In go the plants. Out goes the weeds. On goes the water. Life reduced to its simplest and perhaps best form.

Next: 140. 5/21/14: Horse Sense: Fast Forward