Careful what you wish for - June 29, 2025

When I got to the garden yesterday morning, I was happy to see a few of the newly-planted purple hull peas poking their heads above the soil.  I worked for nearly 3 hours transporting wood chips to the edges of the rows.  As the peas grow, I'll rake the wood chips around them for weed control.  There is landscape fabric between the rows.  Hopefully, the combination of landscape fabric and wood chips will seriously reduce the amount of weeding we'll need to do.

But there were (and still are) several areas in the garden that have not yet been planted and maintained, and those areas were seriously weedy.  I found two more rolls of landscape fabric in the garden shed and pinned them to the ground to smother the weeds, but that still left a lot of weedy spots.  At this point, there's not enough room to maneuver the big black garden tiller without digging up something important, and the little red garden tiller is SUCH a pain in the ass to crank.  Of course, I could chop the weeds with a hoe, but . . .  dang, it's hot.  I decided that I would get more landscape fabric next week and just cover up the problem for a while.

As I was working, I began to notice a sour smell.  It was coming from my straw hat!  I'd sweated in it every day this week, and it was funky.  I took it to the hydrant, hosed it down, and hung it on a fence post to dry.  

The tomato plants looked kind of pitiful.  They nearly drowned in April and May, and they are leggy and scraggly, but they've been producing fruit.  However, while the garden was too wet to set foot in, tomato worms stripped leaves off some of the plants, and their fruit was sun-scalding.  I decided to pick every tomato in the patch that was showing yellow to prevent them from further damage.  They're ripening on the coffee table on the back porch.  I'll can them tomorrow or the next day.  

I took a lunch break and went back to the garden to finish moving the wood chips.  When that was done, I said to Mother Nature, "A gentle shower on those peas would be nice."  I put away the pitchfork and rake and decided that I would go get the landscape fabric and maybe get it down before the day was over.  The Husband was in the shop, putting the new blades on the lawnmower.  As I was walking to the shop to ask if he needed my help before I left, it started to drizzle.  I thought, "Oh, good!"

By the time I got back with the landscape fabric, it was POURING rain.  I mean POURING.  I got soaked running from the car to the shop.  When the rain let up, I sloshed out to the garden.  The pea rows were standing in water.  AGAIN.  

If these new peas drown, I'm giving up.

I did not get the pumpkin seeds planted.  

On a happier note, take a look at this year's phlox spectacle happening in our yard.