The very first entry on a blog should be momentous. It should be accompanied by interesting pictures. Neither is going to happen here.
I've always been a better writer than talker. Therefore, a need to express myself has lead to thoughts of joining the ranks of the "with it" group and starting to blog myself. First hurdle: No idea in the world how to set up a blog. No problem, says techno-weinie daughter. My blog was set up before I could say, but may be I'm not really ready . . .
Next, a blog is soooomuch more interesting when sprinkled with pictures. I don't know how to use a digital camera let alone transfer pictures from said digital camera to blog page. Have I mentioned that I'm severely technologically challenged? (Now THERE'S an understatement.) No problem, says daughter, it's simple. I can show you in a minute. Her dad goes to find new digital camera we've had for months but have never taken out of package. Long story short, the battery included proves to be defective. So if you care to, hang around for a while, and the interesting pictures WILL appear. I just can't promise an accurate or dependable ETA date.
This time of year is my busiest. I'm a gardener of the first order. I have to garden. Yes, it's hard work sometimes and for many months the cracks, crevices and nails of my two green thumbs are rather grimy looking, but it's an activity I love. Don't know where this came from; neither my mother or father ever planted a seed. (Oh, wait, I do remember my dad setting out a few tomato plants in the backyard of the house where he and Mom last lived.) But basically, I must be a throw-back to my dear grandpa who was an organic gardener before anyone knew what that was. Besides providing food for his family of seven kids, growing a garden was just something that was common sense to him . . . sort of like always refusing to convert to oil or gas for heating his house. The old clunker of a wood-burning furnace stayed in the basement because he could always burn the furniture if he had to to keep his family warm. (The first time my mom saw our 80-acre piece of land that we bought here with the intention of becoming self-sufficient homesteaders, she said that Grandpa - by then deceased - would have worked himself to death on a piece of land like ours, and loved doing it!)
But I digress. For me, the only really hard physical and time-consuming part of gardening is getting it all planted. We have twenty-six 4 x 8' raised garden beds, a field garden that is about 35 x 45' and a pumpkin patch measuring 14 x 23'. Up here close to the Canadian border, our growing season is short, to say the least. So months ago, I started seedlings inside under growing lights. Then they get repotted a couple of times, then they go outside under cold frames or individual cones of protection before the weather is warm enough and we no longer have to worry about an overnight frost. Setting out the plants is a lot of fun because you can see what you've accomplished at the end of the day. But planting seeds --- ugh. Not my thing. I mean, you take these infinitesimally small seeds and bury them under a bunch of dirt. (Why do you bury something? To get rid of it!) Spend a day preparing and planting out five or six garden beds and what do you have to show for it? Nuthin', that's what. I'm always sure I've killed the poor little seeds by either putting them in too deeply . . . or too shallowly. I know, you'd think after successfully gardening for close to forty-five years I'd be a smidge more confident. But I worry every year until I see the first little spring-green shoots bravely poking up through the soil.
So who's doing my jobs inside the house this crazy time of year when I'm outdoors all day? Nuhbuddy. I am so, so fortunate to have a husband who actually likes to eat Wild Rice Soup with Chicken three times a day. Three days in a row. Or who doesn't care if the dust bunnies are so large they scare the dog. It's me who goes a little crazy because I can't do it all. I get cranky if we are both down to the underwear that lives at the very bottom of the drawer because the elastic is shot or, gosh, when did these get so small? I need a neat, orderly house with no dishes in the sink to feel organized and ready for the day. Should I take the time to go to my quilt guild meeting tonight, or should I sit at my desk and pay those bills that came in last week?
What am I thinking? Starting blog writing this time of year??! I have to stop now. I soaked my Sweet Pea flower seeds Friday so I could plant them yesterday, but ended up with more than I could fit around the trellis. So I have to go out now and put up an extra trellis for the leftover seeds. Shoot, I'll probably just kill them by burying them too deeply anyway.