And then July hits with a vengeance. We have this little family tradition of heading off to Yellowstone in between first and second crop hay season, which is all fine and good...except for when I come home. What a pitiful sight my garden is year after year when we return. Amazonian strength weeds have overtaken. I think someone must sneak in and plant them while I am away - or at least sneak them a heavy dose of fertilizer. I start the battle right away, but it seems like I will never win. I start rattling off the story of "The Little Red Hen," in the hopes it will inspire my children to help, but let's be honest. How much help is it for a 3- and 5-year-old to help weed the garden? And the heat. Oh the insufferable heat! I'm a morning person, but not a start-weeding-at-5:00 morning person. It's a bit discouraging, to put it mildly.
But then, just when I am ready to call it quits, August rolls around. Finally! Fresh vegetables every day. I can't pick them fast enough. I can't preserve them fast enough. I just can't keep up and quickly fall behind, but I don't mind a bit.
I love my little garden. I'm a farm girl at heart and while my dad and brother roll out their combines for harvest time, I put myself to work in my own little patch of earth. Sometimes I miss harvest time on the farm. There is great joy in reaping the rewards of what was sown. I'm glad I get a little taste of it. Anyone want to come for lunch? It's all fresh.
P.S.- If you are wondering, yes Floyd helps with the garden. He runs the tiller. Loves his powerful tiller. He usually helps with the planting - makes much straighter rows than I do. Sometimes he pulls a few weeds too. And he never misses out on the eating.
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