You can search and search, but you aren’t likely to find many recognizable pictures of me on all fours anywhere.
A long day spent weeding the much neglected garden preserved forever as a digital memory by my wife. I think she was mostly interested in documenting the rare burst of hard physical labor. The truth is, unlike my wife, I actually lack the “tidy” gene. Seems hard to believe given the obsessive compulsive right angles in my garden, but ask her. She’ll tell you true – I’m not much for cleanliness or godliness.
Last year’s garden was meticulously groomed. A weed would think of peeking through the soil and I was there to pluck the thought away. This year, well, I sort of convinced myself that some weeds were good weeds. Heck, it’s really just green mulch!
Things really, really got out of control. It was like a frat house after a keg party in there with pools of vomit and underthingies strewn about.
So, since I needed to 86 the lettuces, I decided to weed too. All of it.
If you’ve ever seen a zamboni at work on an ice rink, that’s pretty much the approach I took. Row by row, pluck, pluck, yank, dig, push the pile forward, pluck, pluck push.. until I reached the end of each row and I’d heave the weedy detritus ho over the fence toward the composter. And yes.. I did it. I composted the weeds. Can be a bad idea, but since at least half of the weeds were actually bolted lettuces, extra beets, failed radishes and the like I figured, what the heck. Note the very dirty, but very shapely man legs.
I’d like to say that it was a grueling nightmare letting the garden get so weedy. But the truth is, it wasn’t that bad to do it this way. Think I’ll keep doing it.
I feel awfully productive when I’ve put something off forever and I finally do it!