Back in the saddle again
On Friday the doctor told me I could stop using the crutches, at least for brief periods. So, on Saturday. . .
I wrapped the walking cast so the dressing would stay clean and dry.
decided to give disposable vinyl gloves a try because with regular garden gloves I get irritated and fling them off the first time I can't pick up a tiny seed or get a grip on a weed,
and I was off to plant up some of my new 4' x 10' raised beds!
By Sunday night (my definition of "brief" being anything less than 48 hours) I was aching all over but I'd planted 3 kinds of potatoes (Carola, All Blue, and Chieftain), a row each of carrots (Mokum), swiss chard (Bright Lights), parsnips (Cobham), beets (dutch ball), radish, and the way too many onion and shallot plants that I started from seed back in January. In the greenhouse I pulled out all the sprouting broccoli that the mice have been eating the sprouts from as soon as they emerge and gave the plants to the chickens.
(You'll notice there's no rooster in that picture. Mr. Darcy fell victim to testosterone poisoning last week. By which I mean that he was so full of himself for surviving the coq au vin incident that he took to crowing about it from the top of the gate. All. Day. Long. If you were a coyote in the neighborhood, it was impossible not to notice. Still, he would have been fine if he hadn't decided to test his invincibility by clearing the 7 foot high coyote-proof fence and strutting around in the pasture. Idiot. Without a "Mr. Darcy" in the picture, what am I going to name this year's pullets, due to arrive any day now?)
Planted up the bed where the 24-hour mouse buffet once stood with lettuce seedlings, which the mice don't seem to care for. Baited for slugs. Took a bunch of pictures to remind me what's in bloom right now.
I just barely had time to pocket the camera and cover the planted seed beds with poly row cover before it started pouring rain. The gloves stayed on all day, but even with layering two pairs, I wore through a couple of the fingertips at some point, so kiss that manicure goodbye. It was worth it. The worst day gardening is still better than the best day at work.