There’s nothing quite like climbing into the shower after a few hours bent over weeding. All the scratches on my forearms and legs start to sting. The dirt that fell down my cleavage softly sloughs off my skin. I can pumice the rough spots on my feet and start to feel more human again.
There was no point in wasting the break in the rain. I decided to attack the garden at the side of the house, and in the process revealed the evening sunlight to the show-stopping baby hydrangea above. I’m not usually a fan of lacecap hydrangeas, but Fuji Waterfall is such a delicate, elegant flower that it’s hard to find fault.
Even the cats came outside to help me with the weeding (well, two of them did anyway – Gomez rarely deigns to such things). Eva lolled around in my freshly-dug dirt, giving herself a dust bath and generally trying to distract me with her cuteness in the hopes of getting treats. When that didn’t work, she climbed the plum tree so that she could dangle from a branch above me, purring loudly and occasionally trying to bat me on the head. Scrappy thought it would be much more fun to hide in the bushes and rush out to attack my gloved hands as I worked. He got quite miffed when I tossed a handful of dirt at him – running away because I dared to fight back. It’s wonderful when they’re in a silly mood. Just not that helpful.
It also seemed that every 30 minutes or so I was impatiently returning to my peat pots to check on the seeds I planted on Wednesday. It’s ludicrous, but my beans and blue corn got me all excited when the seeds pushed themselves up through the soil again within 24 hours of first planting them. Since then they have sat there – probably putting down roots over the subsequent 24 hours, but stubbornly refusing to break into leaves. And I am like a chef constantly watching the pot, counting down eternity while I wait for it to boil. Germinate, damn you! I want summer beans!
But all will happen in time. Gardening should not be the vocation of impatient people… Or impatient kitties for that matter.