By Dr. Bruce Smith —— Bio and Archives--June 20, 2022
Here along the 40th parallel in North America the gardeners have gone to work. There have been quite a number out there for a few weeks already, of course. Those with real greenhouses have taken an impressive lead. Neighbors with a greenhouse brought me zinnias three weeks ago that were already blooming. First week of June and they had blooming zinnias! I think I need a new word. How about impressbarrassment? Or how about I just get to work on that greenhouse idea I had for next year? At any rate, after they left, I set the zinnias out next to my row of zinnias that are one inch tall. They like being out of the little grow cells and in the dirt. The Comment section of online publications is the new front in the ongoing Cancel Culture Battle.
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By Joe Boudreault on 2022 06 20
So cool that this elderly woman carries her oxygen with her to the garden. I have a neighbor who does the same and it doesn't slow him down. Aside from the optim7m prace if a graveyard, there's no better spot on earth than a garden where both physical and mental endeavors meet side by side. The first images of peace and contentment for man 8n tge Bibke started in a Garden. So much so that I painted verses from Genesis 2 over my trellis hate. Thank you, Dr Smith.
By Barbara on 2022 06 22
I don't have any vegetables growing. I have never had a garden. In the mountains of Central Oregon you needed a greenhouse because of the cold nights even in the summer. I did get a lot of flowers and am enjoying them. Petunias. I can't kill a petunia. I meant to get started on some zucchini and a few other things. So far, I am spending my time on the million dandelions and tall grasses that are growing in my lilac bushes all around the property. We bit off more than we can chew buying such a big place to take care of. Spend 3 days out of 10 just doing the lawn maintenance. Then 4 days trying to recover from that work. It is very satisfying though. I know what they do for summer hobbies in North Dakota...MOW!
I have memories of my mother doing all the yard work when I was little. It should have been us out there with her. I think we were watching I Love Lucy. My dad had his own business where he worked very hard and also had a bad back, so it was up to my mom to do all the outside work. As I had sweat dripping down places I didn't know you could sweat - it occurred to me that maybe my mom enjoyed getting out of the house and into the dirt a little. My husband does most all of the inside work and cooking. I am the one who goes outside and feels the need to weed. We share the mowing, although he does most of it. I am a frustrated hairdresser, so the clippers are my best friend.
There is a feeling of satisfaction when you pull on a weed and you can feel it give just as it starts to come out. I can't explain it, but it makes it worth trying for the next weed also. I realize that when I saw my mom weeding, maybe she was getting some kind of satisfaction out of it. I don't want to get my nails and hands dirty, but once you get into the dirt it doesn't matter any more and you can just "go for it." I am sure there is a primal instinct in all of us that connects us with the dirt. Dust to dust, maybe?
We are so busy working and going that we don't stop to smell the roses. When you are on your knees and the dirt is on your hands, it is kind of nice to find the worms and see what life is like again. Kind of like when you were a child and all of life was an amazing thing. My husband is surprised that for a "city girl" I kind of like the dirt.
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