Damn you, garden
I quit.
I quit, I quit, I quit.
I am done.
Done.
I’m no good. It’s too frustrating. And this summer has been the worst.
First of all, early spring rains literally swept the majority of my top soil down the hill and deposited early seeds in a sad pile at the edge of the field. It was so disheartening that I didn’t even bother photographing it.
But seriously.
The weeds! The bugs! The disease! The sweat! The only part I like about working in the garden is that I get to listen to hours of unfiltered NPR. But all the other crap about a gardens rewards? The opportunity for exercise? Please. I do hot flow yoga. And gardening is not rewarding, not at this point in my body’s life. Honestly. We go away for one long weekend and the weeds come back ten feet over my head. Pulling them? Hoeing them? Hacking them down? It aches. It hurts. It sucks. I hate sweating and I hate being out there in the hot Missouri sun and humidity and I hate the tiny gnats that hum into my ears and my mouth and my eyes and I have a love/hate relationship with the deer that insist on eating every single green bean and squash blossom I manage to coax up from the ground.
And the vegetables that do manage to make it to full forms, well, we flat don’t eat half these vegetables (okra? honestly?). I don’t produce enough to sell at market. And in a land where just about everyone, frankly, has a garden, you simply can’t get rid of all that goddamned zucchini.
“Preserve!” “Can!” “Freeze!” say my better pioneer homemaker housewife neighbors.
I’ve done the canning party stuff. (Can we just be real and cut the crap and get to the wine drinking, already?) Truthfully, I hate the way canned food tastes. Yes, even homemade canned food. Homemade canned food lovers: I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. The vegetables are mushy and discolored. As for freezing–we only have so much room in our freezer. And how much frozen corn can you store?! And dehydrated squash chips? Seriously?
Finally, the pros at farmers markets do it better.
I’m going to try small garden projects that are a lot less visible and far more manageable. Like container lettuce. And hanging flower baskets.
So I’m letting it go to hell. Letting the weeds take over. I concede.
Anyone else ever quit a formal vegetable garden patch?
One Response to “Damn you, garden”
Done? Go drink some wine, honey. Tomorrow is another day.