her able hands

Friday, my day alone, was spectacular. I had such big plans but found that once I got outside and started working, my body was not as much up to the task as my mind, so I had to turn it down a notch or ten. I let myself move slowly, matching the light breeze, the dancing spots of sunlight filtering through the freshly popped leaves in the woods.

Five wheelbarrows full of manure hauled next door and spread in one newly tilled bed, took over an hour to accomplish. After I scuffled it to mix with the soil, I raked it into hills and planted Blue Potatoes, French Fingerling Potatoes, Cocozelle Zucchini, Green Tint Pattypan and Yellow Crookneck. Between the hills I put patches of Vermont Cranberry Beans and Marfax Dry Brown Beans.

In the bed with the volunteer onion row, I pulled out the Violets, loosened the soil deeply and planted Golden Beets, Chiogga Beets and Detroit Dark Red Beets. They don’t like fresh manure, the jolt of nitrogen can cause their roots to fork. The soil is deep and sandy, perfect for root vegetables, but I’ll have to stay on top of the weeding, those Violets make their insidious advance and crowd out all other living things.

I didn’t take a single photo that day, just wished to be in the moment and then gone from it and into the next. Now, of course, I sit here typing and think, darnit, I wish I had taken a picture of something pretty to show you, like the ten million red worms per shovel full of manure.

I have three other big beds next door that need manure, minerals and a good weeding, but I ran out of steam by 2:00. After I put my seed box away, I poured a mason jar of iced sun tea, propped a few pillows on the slant board on the porch swing, grabbed the book Second Nature and made myself comfy. I had exactly one hour until Tyler arrived back home from school. I don’t think I read more than a page before the gently rocking swing sent me into a deep afternoon nap with the sun on my feet and the birds singing all around.

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