Yup. There's something about putting in a big garden that eats up all your time and beats up all your body parts. Or at least, that's what happens to me this time of year. Our growing season up here near the tundra (not quite, but sometimes it feels close) is so short that it seems everything needs to be done at once.
When we lived in
Then, too, there's the dance I do every year to get as much as possible done outside before the dreaded bugs arrive. This year we've had an exceptionally cool spring (cool non-spring?) and because of the lack of any warm days (ah, but wait, I think I remember one a couple of weeks ago), the bugs here in our location close to Lake Superior have yet to make an appearance. Shhhh, this is not a complaint. But it does make me push my body each bug-less day to get all I can done outside because I know my tolerance for working in the garden while being chewed on by black flies, or mosquitoes, or no-see-ums is nil. My dad was terribly allergic to insect bites and although I'm not as affected as he was, one bite swells my skin like a helium balloon while itching for weeks and so I simply cannot function while various small, flying beasties are feasting on my blood.
Complaints, complaints. Waaaah, what a cry-baby. I'm just tired and achy and dirty tonight. I love gardening; you'd hear a lot more moaning and groaning if I had to give it up. And, hey, let it be a challenge. Once the garden is in, I find it easy to keep it weed-free and enjoy immensely the visual beauty of all the growing and producing plants and harvest of nutritious foods I look forward to. As far as this never-enough-hours-in-the-day period, well, what could be better for me than to spend days out in the beautiful, fresh air, bending and stretching and exercising so many muscles in my body? It's all worth it many times over.