I went to painting class Tuesday. Accomplished absolutely nothing. My phone alarmed about 30 minutes before class was scheduled to end, reminding me of a lunch appointment with The Old Boss. I packed up my stuff and skedaddled. Had just enough time to get there.
On the way home, I decided to go down to Nanny's and unload the fertilizer and lime bags from my car and measure the garden plot so I could calculate how much of the fertilizer and lime to apply, according to the soil test done last fall. While I was measuring, The Nephew came home. I asked him to get on the tractor and till up the soil if he needed something to do. He said that there was something wrong with the tiller. When The Husband came home, he said that a clamp just needed tightening. After dinner, I walked down to the garden and started broadcasting the fertilizer (when I re-checked the soil test, it turned out that I didn't need the lime, after all). A little while later, The Husband came down and tightened the clamp. The tractor and tiller are ready to roll. We told The Nephew that he could run the tiller over the garden the next day. The Husband said he would do it when he got home from work the next day, if The Nephew didn't do it.
Yesterday was office day. I went to the office for a little while, then drove to the next county to meet with a lady who is running their archive. We talked for a couple of hours. I would've loved to have stayed all afternoon, but she was preparing for an open house that's happening today, and I did not want to take up all of her time. When I left the archive, I picked up a hot dog at a convenience store and ate it on the way back to the office.
About 30 minutes after I settled in at the office, my stomach started cramping. I don't know if it was the hot dog or if the stomach bug finally got me, but after several trips to the bathroom (don't you just HATE having to "go" at work?), I gave up and came home. The situation seemed so dire that, instead of taking the shortest route home, I took the route with places I could stop, if I had to. I made it home without mishap. Barely. I felt crappy (hah!) and didn't even think about the garden-tilling. Neither did The Husband - or, if he did think about it, he kept quiet.
But this morning the weatherman was talking rain tonight and tomorrow. I don't know if the garden has been tilled, and I don't know if The Husband will get home from work this evening in enough time to do it. The Nephew said that it would be better to leave the fertilizer on top of the ground, rather than till it in. Whether or not this is true, I do not know, but I am not going to get in a tizzy about the garden getting tilled before the rain comes.
I went outside this morning and slid the broccoli and cucumber bins back into their frame and stashed it on the ground behind some other stuff where the wind won't hit it so hard if it storms tonight.
One purple tomato has sprouted in the cold frame. The lupine seeds have been trying to straighten their necks for a couple of days; they might make it today. The English daisies are still too tiny to fool with.
I planted more tomato seeds today - big ones, this time. Goliath, Brandywine, and Defiant.
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