Thursday, September 5, 2019

Kindergarten Gardeners (Garteners?)

I din't have much to do. The newest gardeners raced across the playground to push the heavy, supply laden, tippy over the bumps cart all the way around on the walkway. 

Leaving the pavement for the grass, a wheel fell off. They looked at me.  I looked at them.  "Figure it out," I said and went back to my conversation with our new STEM teacher.... both of us watching and smiling and then they fixed it.

We spent a moment being proud of ourselves, and then we got to work.  I asked for help getting the 20 lb bag of garden soil from the corner to the nearest raised bed.  They couldn't get there fast enough. 

When's the last time you raced to carry a filthy bag of soil.... in the middle of your work day.... when you could be swinging or climbing or playing soccer?

It was very heavy.  It took planning and sharing and cooperating and, in the end, brute strength, for the gardeners to balance the bag on the edge of the raised bed. 

After that, getting the soil out was fun and easy, especially with our new tools (Thank you, Lady Jane!).

Dumping the rest of the soil was easier, dirtier, and much more fun.  It's also the only time you're allowed to walk in the beds themselves. 
It felt deliciously naughty.


The next task was to bury the irrigation lines which required both a discussion about irrigation and the close inspection of the holes in the tubing.    
 
The boys may have startled a bit when I very quickly and not altogether randomly handed them the pink tools, and the girls might have looked longingly their way while wielding the blue ones, but the tools themselves are prized commodities so there were no complaints.  (Had the tools existed in other colors I'd have bought them, in case you're wondering.)


While trenching and burying several discoveries were made. 
Many a budding geologist uncovered a beautiful igneous or sedimentary or metamorphic rock; none of us were exactly certain which type was which. 

And then, in the corner of the raised bed, there rose a hue and cry.  The kids declared it a caterpillar.  I had no idea. 

I did not plan to have the No, You Can't Keep It measure itself on the trowel as I recorded their treasure for posterity.  I watched as they safely deposited in the other raised bed, bid farewell, and left to its own devices as the whistle blew.

(squirmy creepy crawly thing pictured below.... that's all you'll miss if you click away.)


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