Sunday Sentiments

 

My parents always planted a huge garden – back when I was a kiddo. Dad would fire up the red tiller and stir the dirt in the side yard. I loved walking barefoot through the freshly turned rows after he went on to the next one.

            I never knew how they planned what they would plant, but I seem to remember them ordering seeds from a catalog. Eventually it would be time to plant, and I’d follow whatever directions they gave about helping. The main memory I have was Dad walking ahead of me, carving line, and I followed behind to drop seeds.

            The plants began to grow, and the corn was always my favorite. When it grew tall, I loved to disappear into the rows to hide in their coolness. The leaves would fan my face and the sun couldn’t find me there.

            Then the work began, and I wasn’t overly fond of it back then. Dad would bring wheelbarrows full of corn to be shucked. He dug potatoes and picked beans and strawberries. (Clearly, these are not listed in harvest order.) Mom would spend days canning, and the house filled with heat and some interesting aromas. (I still hate pickled beets…sorry, Mom!)

            The garden began to shrink over the years. Slowly, Dad filled in one end with grass seed, and that grassy area spread farther into the garden as I got older.

            Some kids help their parents garden and want to carry on the tradition, but it didn’t work that way with me…until now.

            We have a small area in the yard that reminded me of a raised garden bed, so a few days ago, my friend Julie came over and helped me craft a plan. We pored over her book and picked out some things for me to plant. We drew a template, and I gathered the plants and seeds.

            And yesterday afternoon, I crouched next to the bed and attempted planting for the first time since I was just a little girl, following along behind my dad.

            I enjoyed every minute out there. The fish flopped in the lake while I worked, and it was a surprisingly wonderful afternoon. I have no idea if it will be a successful endeavor, but it was a good feeling to try something new.