Wet & Dry

My beloveds: Fred on the left; Ethel on the right.

Everyone was in the best of moods on the Sunday morning dog walk because the weather was glorious. I, however, had a bitch of a seizure. (I’m not recording them here any more; they’re back in my life.)

From waking to walking, I did research on vegetables. I drew and re-drew my garden layout and developed a planting schedule. And I wrote to T&T Seeds to ask when my Strawberries and Raspberries will arrive. It won’t be until April.

The fountain worked! It’s wonderful to have the sound back and it looks beautiful; the sunshine makes the falling water sparkle like jewels. And, just as happened last year, the birds love it. Then it was back to shovel, dump, wheel, dump and repeat. And repeat. But now the garden contains all the soil it needs. 

But all that planting energy dissipated as I worked on the final addition of soil to the beds. I realized that it’s too early to plant; the garden doesn’t get enough sun yet. I have to wait another month, I reckon. So I put up a clothes line—the kind with a long line between two rollers. I can hardly wait to wash my bed linen and smell the fresh air in it when I go to bed. Plus, I’m going to save a lot of money on electricity for about eight months. No more dryer.

Now I’ve to move the remaining soil to my other gardens. But not today; this morning I take Jay to Nanaimo for his first physio appointment following knee surgery. When I come home, Scott, the arborist, will be here opening my eastern canopy.

I’ll likely start digging the holes for where I want my Apple trees to go this afternoon. Where they are, they get insufficient sunshine.