The gardener's day involves going out in the yard with nothing to do, and several hours later, you still aren't done. That happened to me today. It all started with hauling bales of peat and bags of compost from the garage to the backyard, and ended with a lot of weed pulling.
This morning, it looked like an indoor day: gray sky and sprinkles and an uncomfortably cool breeze. Potting up some of the transplants kept me gardeningly engaged. Eventually, the clouds broke up and the sun warmed things a bit.
Even though I planted some herb seeds inside yesterday, I also purchased a replacement rosemary and some new basil, so they needed to be transplanted. Yesterday I mowed, picking up grass clippings; today I artfully arranged them around the onions and recently transplanted broccoli plants. Some watering also occurred.
And then there are the weeds. The weather has been less than inviting for much of this spring, but the thistle, creeping Charlie, and quack grass are oblivious. I see evidence of bindweed and spearmint about to explode, too. I tackled several beds yesterday, a couple more today. Once the garden plants are established and more mulch applied, it shouldn't be quite so bad. At least, that is what I keep telling myself.
The new clematis made it through the winter, but when I tried to show it to my SO last night, we discovered it had been decimated, presumably by a rabbit. I circled the remaining tiny stalk with chicken wire - hope it recovers - and double checked the chicken wire around the newly planted blueberry bushes on the south side of the house. Where is Finn when you need him?
Sometimes I wonder WHY I garden. Despite the labor and the setbacks, I do enjoy mucking about in the dirt. And I *love* walking out the backdoor and harvesting my lunch right from the good earth.