We Were Busy

Very very busy.  Mr 8 and I planted a garden at Amster's house over the last two days.  We battled dust and rocks and heavy lifting.  We sneezed. We sniffled.  We sweated.  We used tissues, the ones without Vicks infused in the fiber.

The outside dogs used to live in the side yard.  That's where the planting beds are, too. The beasts dug and climbed and pawed and chewed through irrigation .  What was left was dirt covered with stones. Our first task was cleaning up the mess.  With brand new, colorful gloves, small enough for all four of our hands, we started at opposite ends of the first bed and began to remove the stones.

 Tossing them onto the ground was as much fun as anything else we did.

The new Staffordshire Terrier puppies were out with us for a while, but when the stone showers began they quickly retreated to the safety of the indoors.

After stone removal came ground aeration.

Using G'ma's trowel and the one that Amster bought we stabbed at the dirt, trying to turn it into soil.

Though he's tall enough to get a decent angle on the tool, 

sitting on the side was easier after a while. 

After a break for sneezing and other nasal attentions, 

we lifted the 2 cu ft bags of soil onto the raised beds.

It was a two person job.

I'm glad he's not Mr. 6 anymore; we'd have been in big trouble without his eight year old strength.

Thinking my request for seedlings was just me being cute with the language, Amster bought seeds. 

So, seeds were what we planted. 

We made furrows 1/4" deep, as the package suggested.

After sprinkling the seeds and distributing them evenly down the row, we covered them gently and patted them softly. 

The next day we planted small basil and tomato and marigold seedlings (the little plants, Amster) after repeating the process in another bed.  I would have taken photos, but we were having too much fun.  

We sang random gospel tunes that came out of Mr. 8's mouth.  We gently separated root balls and spread the tiny threads out in the sweet smelling, warm soil.  We discussed the presence of Perlite in the Miracle Gro soil they'd bought, and reviewed the watering schedule.  Amster's spray nozzle for a hose she found lying around is a much better solution than asking Mr. 8 to lug a watering can.  After all, he has to be gentle as he counts to twenty, moving his arms slowly and evenly over our plants.

We'll have pesto and tomato snacks before too long.

Meanwhile, we will watch our plantings grow.