By Jackie Hollenkamp Bentley
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens … a time to plant and a time to uproot … a time to weep and a time to laugh … a time to mourn and a time to dance… Ecclesiastes 3 (heavily edited)
I have a confession to make. My little backyard garden isn’t my only garden. My nephew, A.J. and I embarked on a much bigger project last year on my parents’ farm in Southern Indiana. We took Mom’s old 35 foot X 35 foot garden plot and planted rows and rows of tomatoes, green beans and various peppers. We had a blast.
So there was no question we would do it again this year.
[caption id="attachment_18587" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] The Farm Garden as AJ and I call it. This shot was taken in May from my brother's new toy, a "drone".[/caption]…a time to plant…
This was planting day back in May. My, oh, my, how we dreamed of our bushels of beans and tomatoes that we would start collecting in July, just like we did last year.
…a time to uproot…
Simply put, the rains have kept us out. In the past two weeks, the mushy land dried up enough where we could set foot in a row and not have our feet sink three inches into mud. We spent four hours hand-pulling weeds. We hoped we would be able to till between the rows and “air-out” the plants a few days later. It didn’t happen.
…a time to weep…
What's supposed to be beautiful, green-free, brown paths between each row has been attacked by various and assorted weeds. Some we had never seen before in our lives. Unfortunately, I don’t have pictures of the mess because I was terrified to take my phone in for fear it would drop into the mud and I would never find it.
This week, they say there’s less chance of rain (after today, of course). We’ll see. If it holds true, I’ll go up and, once again, hand-pull all the weeds and pray we can till. Maybe we’ll be able to harvest in, oh, I don’t know, OCTOBER.
…a time to laugh …
This is my consolation. My...Read more
