18 April 2010

Rock Gardens?

Wolf and I had a VERY busy day here on the farm!  It seems like our weekend are gone in a flash, where as we use to laze around and do nearly nothing at our house.  But that was back when we lived in the Tash Mahal, and were fat and unhappy. Funny how moving to a farm and digging in the ground completely reversed that entire situation.

We have 3 gardens, and I don't mean a nice 3 by 3 raised bed.  Our melon garden is 24 x 12, our tomato garden is 8 x 9 and our random garden is 3 x 24.  Yeah, we did an ass load of work. 

We started by borrowing the tiller from the Lord of the Land (who borrows it from the pig farmer next door) and we headed off to the melon garden.  Wolf was happily tilling along and had about two rows done of the gargantian garden, when he stopped.  Silly me, I thought we'd run out of gas.  No, we were fueled to the brim...but one of the tines (you know those rotating bits that actually break the ground up) fell OFF.  Which left me standing there staring at Wolf completely dumb founded. 

So here comes the Lord of the land and me being me, I hide. Not to mention I had on a super tight ultra low top because I was trying to get my skin to turn from snow to pink, or yellow even...I'd take yellow.    I quietly duck behind the chicken coop and continue to place rocks around the frame we built for the run.

(Oh yeah, we built a frame for the run in like an hour...we usually don't achieve things so speedily.  Like the compost barrel that has been in the works for the last 2 months. We'd better either get some more buckets, make a compost barrel, or a compost corral my chit bucket is getting FULL. Which is not a good thing when rotten leftovers and last months moldy fruit peel start spilling out of the bucket...)

Anyway... so I am hiding my exposed self behind the coop and here them saying man-things about a sheared bolt.  I can only wonder How the HELL did that happen?  Then I look at the ground and the rocks in my hand and think Oh...

Lord of the land quickly helps Wolf get a new bolt, laughs and says its no big deal.  Then we are right back to tilling.  Tilling is normally a one man job, but not in our gardens.  My job, as the one who is freaking afraid of crazy-ass loud jumping around machinery  is to pick up rocks.  Glad I have that college degree!  I was picking rocks out of that garden like they were potatoes!  There were TONS of them.  And every single time the tiller hit one, I'd cringe...waiting for sparks, flying tines, or loss of limbs....

You see, dear readers, we live in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  And we found why the Mountains has become so small...all the rocks and erosion and years of wear had all fallen IN OUR GARDEN.  We probably took at least 100 rocks out of the soil.  And my back let me know it.  Lord, shit is just different after 25...things...move...