Okay, so ignore this post. The pictures didn't upload and I tried again -- same words but
with pictures. I'd like to delete
this post but I'd lose Pat's comment and if the picture are lurking here in those little boxes, I might delete them from my second try. So stop reading and go on to my next post. No, really, stop reading now.
It was time and past time to make a start on the box beds where I'm planting lettuce, spinach, and Oregon snow peas. After harvesting their tender young leaves and flower buds for a stir fry, I hoicked out last fall's collards which were finally going to seed. Then I took the weed eater to the masses of chickweed in the beds. Next I used a shovel to loosen the soil before, in my lazy woman style of gardening, I sat by the bed and used a hand hoe to fluff up and then smooth down the soil.
It's a very pleasant job, sitting there in the warm sun under the blue sky, with the hum of bees, all manner of birdsong, and the melodious wind chimes on our porch for accompaniment. Fragrant viburnum and the sharp sweet smell of plum blossoms provide a counterpoint to the lovely aroma of fresh-turned earth. And the first swallowtail butterflies are dancing above the lavender, pink, and white mats of creeping phlox (around here, we call it 'thrift.')
It's exactly where I want to be and what I want to be doing. Admittedly it's slow going; a winter spent in the comfy chair tapping away on a laptop is no preparation for wielding a weed eater and swinging a hoe. But at last, as the sun is beginning to near the western ridge, the seeds are tucked in place. I pick some of the early asparagus and start for the house, ready for some ibuprophen and a hot shower.
What, you're still reading?