I have been wanting to get a vegetable garden going for a long time. Our trip took up most of my planning brain cells so I didn't dwell too heavily upon the planning of the garden in the early spring months. I knew we would get home in plenty of time to get the garden going.
Two things got in the way; one, money and two, weather.
Everything costs money--everything! If I'd had the garden spot prepared, I could have purchased a few dollars worth of seeds and been in business, but it was not that simple. Our ground is unworked and has been for decades. The sod is very thick. My original plan included covering the weeds and grass with newspaper, building raised beds complete with mole and slug deterrents, buying good soil to fill the garden boxes, then covering the aisles with bark. That was going to cost about a billion dollars so it was scrapped.
But I was determined, so I pulled out the shovel. I worked and worked at tearing out the sod and succeeded in getting only a 6' x 30' space semi-prepared. I even considered planting sod corn like Charles Ingalls did during their first year on the prairie. I had been feeling sad and a bit guilty about having all of this gorgeous land, yet having nothing of nutritional value growing on it.
Then we got a late frost. On June 6th.
All of our neighbors lost most of their gardens.
I no longer felt so bad that the seeds were not planted.
Our home teacher let us borrow his tiller. My husband ran the thing over the garden area I'd already worked with the shovel. With the assistance of a machine, I'd hoped to get a much larger area prepared--even if it meant making a big garden possible for next year.
It turns out that those pull cord machines hate me. I really, really, really tried to get that thing to start but it never even gave me a hopeful cough or half-start. Grrrrr.
In the end, I was thwarted still. And the whole time, Patches just lounged in the shade watching me struggle.
I'm pretty sure he was laughing on the inside.