This is Ginnie’s and my first spring on the Empty Nest Farm. Sometimes I like to just walk around our little two-and-a-half acre “gentleman’s farm” and drink in the sight: rolling lawn, awe inspiring sunrises and sunsets, our first garden.
I had slammed in the garden the day before our honeymoon, the good ole Iowa black soil fluffing like mashed potatoes. I didn’t pay much attention to the seed I was buying, and bought a cheaper brand. Seed is seed, right? When we got back from our honeymoon, I scurried out to look at the garden. To my disappointment, none of the pole beans had germinated, only about half the sweetcorn, and just a smattering of the muskmelon, pumpkins and cucumbers. Darn that seed. But the radishes, lettuce and onions were exploding. Go figure.
I hurried to town and bought more seed for sweetcorn, beans and some other choice veggies, like zucchini and cilantro (whatever that is) for Ginnie, this time getting the well-known brand. We pulled weeds, replanted, watered good, and now it’s “better late than never.”
However, we’ve been able to use the lettuce, which is Romaine, radishes and onions in salad. I love walking out to the garden and picking our supper. The rabbits jump over each other, like they’re enticing me to play. For some reason they’ve been leaving the garden alone, which is a good thing. I keep the .410 right handy.
As a kid, I hated working in the garden. Now, in my senior years, it draws me like a magnet. Return to the soil? I love the smell of fresh dirt, getting my hands in the rich, Iowa loam and dirt under my fingernails. Ginnie wears gloves in the garden, so she won’t ruin her manicure. We work well in the garden together, commenting on the progress of the tomatoes, enjoying the time with each other in the sun and wind, anticipating the hot summer days of cucumbers and onions.
The previous owners of our acreage had planted a nice windbreak of Colorado blue spruce and choke berry (Aronia). They must’ve planted close to 50 trees and bushes. Several of the blue spruce died, leaving gaps in the windbreak. Earlier this spring, I took advantage of a National Arbor Foundation offer and received 10 blue spruce and two lilac bush starts in the mail. I replaced the blue spruce in the windbreak that died, and planted another windbreak on the north side of the Empty Nest Farm. Only one of the 12 starts I received from the National Arbor Foundation died. That’s pretty good odds, a lot better than that cheap seed.
We’ve started construction of a three-car addition to our garage, or I should say, the contractors have started. A track-hoe climbs a pile of dirt, like it’s king of the hill, and reaches its giant claw down into a dark, square hole for more pay dirt. Men grunt and sweat, and a roaring cement truck pours out thick, gray gumbo. I stay out of the way, and note the two feet of black top soil atop the clay base, like chocolate frosting over caramel. Since our farm house has no basement, we had a storm shelter designed under the addition. The storm shelter turned into a room the size of a garage. (The contractors just shake their heads.) Oh, well, we can use the storage space, and we need a storm shelter in case of one of Iowa’s infamous “tarnadoes.”
Big news at the Empty Nest Farm. The tomatoes are blooming. I text Ginnie at work. She’s excited. It won’t be long before we’ll have fresh tomatoes with our garden Romaine, along with ice-cold, teeth-tingling, cucumbers and onions. I can smell the grill already.
Contact Curt Swarm in Mt. Pleasant at 319-217-0526