her able hands

What a spectacular weekend. My body is so spent from all of the work accomplished in two days. So spent. I woke up to another bout of IBS which was just another icky Monday—the third one in a row. See a pattern developing? Perhaps I’m just allergic to my job.

Anyway, the weekend! I woke up Saturday morning and realized that I don’t have a clothes line here and need to rectify that situation immediately. I’d love to put in another like the one we had at the old place, heavy-duty steel T-poles with 4 cords to hang on. Sweet! But for time and money I’d settle for a wheel-style between the back door frame and the big oak tree in the side yard. That was the one thing missing from the weekend, bedding flapping on the line.

So I trenched all day Saturday, one foot wide by 6 or 8 inches deep, enough to plant 30 asparagus crowns. I wasn’t able to get the manure, but will mulch with it as the crowns grow.

The Purple Passion went in the bed made by the first round with the chicken tractor, used about half of the space. I wonder how long they’ll take to sprout?

The other two (Jersey Knight and Mary Washington Improved) went in a bed next door on my in-laws property. I hope I’m not making a mistake establishing perennials over there, but I didn’t want to use the whole other bed just for asparagus, that would foil my plans for the perfect spot to plant carrots and have them actually able to grow.

Two years. I don’t know if I can wait that long. Do I really have to wait two years?

Can’t I pick just one or two spears next spring? Please?

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