It was like my childhood fantasy come to life this morning, as I could manufacture no more distractions to keep me from the garden patch and so had to face the verdant growth of weeds. (I'd always dreamed of finding a secret garden like Mary Lennox in the book...)
Before we left for the conference in Phoenix at the end of June I got the garden in. I dutifully transplanted the 10 cucumber seedlings I had started in the sun room; likewise two Roma tomatoes, and two eggplants that my gardening son and his fiancee brought me, and a cherry tomato plant and some marigolds and zinnias that my sister brought out.
And then I watched them shrivel in the heat and turn to cucumber-eggplant-tomato-flower dust.
In a bit of a fury, I went out and poked 10 holes in the ground, threw in 10 new cucumber seeds and covered them over. I was in "the zone", so I grabbed the carrot seeds I'd bought, and scraped out a couple of furrows to sprinkle them them in, and got the sweet pea seeds I'd been soaking planted.
And then we went away.
Since we've been home I've been legitimately busy, and have watched the garden grow and blossom. All weeds, though, as far as I could see.
Today, like I said, I ran out of excuses for avoiding that most hated chore, and armed with mosquito repellent, a bottle of water and my new pointy headed garden hoe, I faced the weedy music.
To my surprise I discovered that 80% of the cucumber seeds have actually sprouted! To my utter shock and glee I found that one of the Roma tomatoes and the cherry tomato actually rooted and have new growth happening! Only one of the marigold plants and one zinnia look like they've held on to life, but there seems to be little carrot shoots vying for air among the chickweed and quack grass. No sweetpeas, unfortunately, but I didn't think there were tomatoes or carrots yesterday either, so I'll live in hope.
This is good news, but it means I can't just let Himself take the rotor tiller to the dirt and grind the weeds under. It means more dreaded, careful weeding to liberate what carrots there are.
I suppose I'll have to carry on with the weed murder. Kill a weed, save a plant.
I guess it was not quite dead. Just a flesh wound after all.