Gardening Woes

There's not much going on in the Darwinian Gardens this year. Yes, I have 6-8 tomato plants tucked in amongst the WAY out-of-control horseradish that somehow got tilled up and over and around the garden a few years ago. If I am not weekly-vigilant, that root goes...to root. And it has, in a bad way.

And I have a row or two or three of collard greens, in various stages of life. Two rows overwintered, and that was dandy for the springtime "fresh-green" needs that we craved. But somewhere in that time frame, some of the greens bolted (even though it was still frosty outdoors), producing lovely yellow flowers. So lovely, in fact, and full of fragrance, that I added them to 16 small arrangements I did for a funeral luncheon at our church. (I almost added the incredible white flowers from my huge amount of horseradish from around the yard that somehow got tilled up and over and around the garden a few years ago, {is this a broken record?}, but thought better of it, in case someone actually asked me what the glorious fragrance was - and it IS amazingly sweet, given the root from which it arises: "Oh? That's our horseradish.")

More troubling was the Darwinian way the collard greens took to seed, and took to our green lawn. One day that Spouse o' Mine came in the house and commented that something like cabbage was sprouting all over the yard. (Note: we have a very large yard.) Later I went out and quickly recognized the plants in question: collard greens. All over our lawn. Huh.

Oh, well.

This month's woes have to do w/ a a broken rototiller. Not just any rototiller, but a Sears one. One that seemingly cannot be "gotten into" by anyone but a Sears man. And apparently, the Sears men in Kansas have all gone to Tahiti. But I am jumping ahead...

A couple of years ago I went out and purchased a little rototiller. One that my 5'2" body could manage. Hey - I'm not plowing for wheat, I just wanted a little thing to do the walk and the garden and an occasional plot. Its tag touted "easy start!" "lightweight!" and such. And for two years, it worked grandly.

This spring, that Spouse o' Mine "borrowed" it. (I say this, because for 27 years we have not been compatible in the gardening arena, and this tiller was MY tiller. Mine. I purchased it so that I could use it.) His version of what transpired is that he simply pulled the starter cord, and it came flying off the rototiller, into his hands. No more starter cord. Funny, though, that not 15 minutes later, he came into the house and proceeded to pull the cord to open our attic door, and lo and behold, it, too came off in his hands.

Is there a testosterone problem in this tale?! I told him, MY GOSH!! CAN YOU PLEASE BE A LITTLE MORE GENTLE WITH THINGS AROUND HERE?!

Ok. So, we have taken the tiller to a couple of places in town who have said it takes a Sears man. We called the Sears hotline. Someone in India whom I am quite confident has never run a rototiller tried to extract information from me - not about the tiller at all - just my name, email, bleh-de-blah-de-blah. This week that Spouse o' Mine tracked down a Sears repair center a few towns away from us. But, they have closed. Our option (singular), according to another lady in India, is to take our tiller to a Sears store, then someone will collect it from the store, take it to a repair center (where? In India?!) and then return it to the Sears store. I am not sure what the $$$ repair would be.

Today was a wonderful day - 70º or so. I got up at 5:00 am to have coffee and yoga before a little run. I had to wait till clear sun-up, though, to discern just where the thunderheads were gathering. I headed out east, 2 miles (running and walking, mind you), and then south for a mile. No kidding - when I got back to my front porch, I heard the first rumble of thunder. Lucky me.

I spent the morning (after the thunder clouds abated) weeding things which will probably not be weeded again this summer, and transplanting things. After I wrote this, what comes to mind is that Spouse 'o Mine's irritation some decades ago: "Trish, it's not furniture, you know."

Ha ha! The irises have moved, as well as some lavender. And the hostas?

Well...