Oh, my. As tired as I was last night, tonight I am exhausted! It was gloriously warm and sunny by 11:00 a.m., so I headed out to work in the garden. I got the entire back fence flower bed cleaned out, raked and amended with composted manure. I dug some of the garlic I had planted last October, since it was smack dab in the middle of the area we will sod, and replanted it in the small bed, next to the lettuce box, that I had prepared yesterday. I'll still have to find room for the remaining plants.Just as I finished the flower bed cleanup, and had started raking the area where the sod was removed yesterday, both of my sons showed up. Scott was ready to help pound in the fence posts, and John planned on getting the old tiller going.
I've never had to transplant garlic plants before. From what I've read, some people have good luck and others not so much. I guess I'll find out, as they had to be moved. I trimmed the roots just a bit, and trimmed the tops, just as I do when I plant onion plants, and set them 6" apart in all directions. I think I got about 15-16 plants in this small bed.
There are still about a dozen left to find room for.
After Scott and I got the fence posts started, to mark the edge of the garden, John got the old tiller running. We bought it new, about 36 years ago. That shows you how well things were made back then. Of course, we've always kept it garaged and out of the weather.
John hit a lot of roots. He had to chop them out with an ax, and I picked them up and put them in a pile. That's an 8' 2x6 to the left of the pile, to give you an idea just how big they were.
The roots were huge. This one is leaning on a 4'x4' post.
Oops. I knew there were no gas or electrical lines back there, but I forgot about the TV cable//internet/telephone lines. You would think they would have buried them deeper! Luckily, they weren't cut. It will, however, necessitate having to make two triangle shaped garden beds, with a path in between, to protect the cables from any future digging. It also means this is where the gate will go, so the fence posts are in the wrong places! Oh well, I'm not going to make Scott move them. If it looks odd to have a 3' gate and posts in this 8' section, so be it. We're going for function over beauty in this case.
We were getting a lot more done than I thought we would! John kept tilling, I kept pulling out the roots and stacking them up.
He definitely earned his keep, what with all the tilling and chopping.
We're not talking tiny feeder roots here, people!
Many were this size.
And some were even larger!
Finished! The pile of sod in the middle is over the top of the old tree trunk. There was no way it was coming out, so I'll build a raised bed over it and plant it with winter squash.
Tomorrow the plan is to straighten, plumb and finish pounding in the T-posts, so they are all 3' high. Once that's done, I'll either put up the plastic net fencing again, or buy some new welded wire fencing. I wanted chain link, Mr. Granny didn't, and I lost the battle.
A battle I didn't lose was keeping the old east garden plot, rather than putting it in sod! I will sod the few feet at the south end, around the lilac tree and its suckers, but I will retain much of last years planting area. That means the 2012 garden will be considerably larger!
I had a rather scary incident happen today. Around three o'clock, I hadn't yet had any lunch, so I decided to take a short break to eat something. I had a leftover cube steak in the fridge, so I made a couple of slices of toast and fixed myself a steak sandwich. I took it out to the patio, where son Scott was sitting, and started gulping it down as fast as I could, so I could get back to work. I'm afraid I gulped without chewing well, and a piece of steak got stuck in my windpipe. I couldn't breath, I was panicking, and I couldn't make a noise to alert Scott to what was happening to me. I was on the verge of passing out, when I somehow got out of the chair and lunged at Scott, pointing to my throat. Of course, he really panicked! All he could do was stand there and yell "Dad, Mom's dying! Dad! Dad! Mom's dying!" Well, Dad (Mr. Granny) was in the house watching a ballgame. He has priorities, you know. By the time he did get to the patio, Scott was trying to hug me, and I was pounding on my own chest, which finally dislodged the piece of steak....and none too soon! Scott finished off my steak sandwich, while I drowned my sore throat with a few glasses of water. Scott kept muttering how he never learned to do the Heimlich maneuver, and I told him it wouldn't have done any good in my case anyway. After all, I had on an oversized sweatshirt and no bra. He would have been hugging me around my knees, thinking it was my chest!
Mr. Granny sent out for a pizza for our dinner, then I'm off for another hot soak in the tub and a few Tylenol.
