This morning I had two hours between the time when I walked Jet to the bus stop (where Jet told me, confidently, that he was going to walk home from the stop himself when he and Tanner came home in the afternoon) and when John came home after volunteering at school and we were going to the OUR center together. During those two hours I found out that the rabbits have found our new raised beds and dug in them experimentally to see if they could make their own beds in it. Hee. Big rabbit feet all over my Walla Walla onions. Hmph. But I think they figured out that digging in the corner only gets them a board for a bed, and they just left small holes. But now I have to think of ways to keep them out of my garden. *sigh*
I also got to water things, move compost around, get some things settled, and got some thank yous written to flit
for some lovely pu-erhs and to amberley
for the copy of The Last Unicorn
dvd that actually paid Peter Beagle for the story that had always stopped my breath. But seeing a movie representation of a unicorn is so different than the unicorn that dances in my mind, so I'll always love the book and words better than the animation. Perhaps why I always preferred print to video...
John works as one of the day shelter managers and I was going to get more familiar with the garden and the garden shed. The hospitality manager originally told me that they were going to try and get a load of compost for me to work into the beds I wanted to deal with, but they were running late and one of the guys helping was going under the weather. So they said I could go home if I wanted to.
I shrugged and said, "There's always something to do in a garden." I'm not entirely sure they believed me, but hey, the garden will tell.
They had some tools, but the mini-tiller was missing along with a bunch of other things. I was sad. It was a bit like the kitchen's knives, which just stank for a while until someone got them a full set of professional knives. I'll have to bring my own tools, a bit like when I brought my own knives for the kitchen. So it is.
But they had a watering can. They had two small spades, one of which bent while I was trying to weed with it. Sigh. The other worked better and seemed to have been, at least, hardened. So I got my bucket and I did the unglamorous, dirty, and always necessary job of weeding. Something with deep, white, nasty roots and the usual spiky things invaded the strawberry patch, so I went in and dug the things out. I've never been that comfortable with just hoeing up weeds and letting them stay on the earth, as they seed and make babies faster when they're killed, most of 'em that is. So I did the grubby work of pulling them up by the root and tossing them into my tub and then into the dumpster. I did two whole buckets of weeds in about an hour and a half, and then I got the watering can out and watered a bunch of garlic sprouts pretending to be tulips and pushing out for the spring, a big patch of very brave and scraggly spinach (needs feeding), and the whole raspberry and strawberry patch. They need feeding too if they're going to produce.
I dripped sweat by the time I was done. It was nearly 80 out and bright sunshine. I was glad of the SPF 50 sunscreen I'd put on before even heading out. Yeah. Colorado in the winter. It's still not officially spring, yet, and I'm wearing SPF 50 because I need to be. By the time John came out, I was ready to quit. This is going to be a work out for me, I can already tell, as I'm slow and grumpy about moving again, now. *grin*
Though the JF has promised me sushi and that might be enough to get me out of this chair. Might. *grin*