Last weekend we did the one hour hop towards Spring. This gave Hub and I extra time to figure out where our roaming box planters should reside this summer. Our two, four foot square box frames are in need of a new location… for the third time.
Our backyard faces south. This should be perfect for a day of continual sun to shine on our salad ingredients. And it would be if trees didn’t grow in the same sunny stimulus creating shade… and lots of it. I totally suggested cutting down the neighbors trees in the middle of the night to avoid the hassle of another move. Because…. dirt is heavy and I’m lazy. Hub being the sane one of this group vetoed the idea.
The weekend weather was pretty darn nice around here allowing Hub to sneak out of bed Saturday morning and before I had even one eye open had positioned the boxes in the prime sun gathering location… dead center in the middle of our lawn. Whatever… I wasn’t about to fuss at this point, I hadn’t had my morning coffee yet.
But after downing a cup of eye-opener I helped in the transfer of DIRT. I embellished each shovel full with groans, moans and grunts. Hub, who had hours invested already put up with my drama. Then it happened, I dug a worm in half… then another. I apologized to the little things then wondered. If they grow their other end back, do they recognize themselves when they pass their other half later on? Obviously delirium had set in but really, this is a perplexing question.
This evening we stood by the back door admiring our stellar work of placing, weeding, hauling and raking. As we talked about the joy of lettuce, spinach, onions, radishes and tomatoes growing just steps away we heard it… it came from the television. The familiar voice of Dave the weather-guesser uttering…
Winter is back folks… and just in time for Spring.
If the sun ever comes back, our planter boxes are positioned perfectly to soak it in.