The new belt for the black tiller was in the mailbox today. I took it down to the shop and laid it near the toolbox, then went to work in the garden for a bit.
The pitiful row of butterbeans has been choked with grass for two weeks. I have spent my energy elsewhere in the garden, since only 12 plants or so had sprouted on the 60-foot row, but the rest of the garden was in pretty good shape today, so I went to work pulling up grass from around the beans.
Nanny came out to the garden after a bit, and we discussed the cucumbers. The vines are producing fairly well - we're harvesting a dozen or so every couple of days - but the cucumbers are trying to turn yellow before they get very large. Today, there were a good many that were the perfect size for pickles, but Nanny wants to make cucumber relish, and she likes big ones for that, but not big yellow ones. I am afraid that if we try to let them get much bigger, they'll go yellow, first, so I suggested that we go ahead and pick the biggest ones and refrigerate them until we get more. She didn't much like the idea, but she agreed, and we picked a shopping bag full. I still don't understand her reluctance to use 20 medium cucumbers instead of 10 big ones in her relish.
After about two hours in the garden, I decided to call it a day. When I got back to my house, The Husband was home from work. As I was taking off my gloves and my gardening apron, I said to him, "The tiller belt came in today."
He said, not sarcastically, "Oh, good."
I said, "I took it to the shop and laid it on top of the toolbox, so it'll be handy in case you get a sudden urge to fix something."
He gave me The Look.
I just ignored it, and went to the bathroom to wash my nasty feet.
The urge to fix something did not arrive this evening.
No comments:
Post a Comment