Yesterday, a friend who works at a greenhouse donated 93 broccoli and cauliflower plants to Elk Cliff Farm. This sent me out to dig the rest of my potatoes (3 overflowing 5-gallon buckets) and pull their neighboring weeds (2 giant wheelbarrows-ful). About time. The garden beds have gone to pot (not really, but they do look bad). Folly-fancies have been diverting my gardening skills.
I added some very dry and dusty donkey manure and hurriedly welcomed the brassicas to their new home.
"Hey, he didn't put up a fence," said a resident rabbit. "We're gonna party tonight!"
Yes, Karen and I had suspicions about the party plans. We even talked about them before turning off the bedroom lights. And I dreamed about 93 leaf-less stems.
Fortunately for me, the nocturnals decided to leave about 55 plants for their planned re-hash tonight of last night's bash.
First thing this morning, after bruising myself with a few well-aimed kicks, I installed a fence.
"Think it'll work, smarty-pants?" says Virginia.
It has in the past, not that I remembered that yesterday. Doofus.
The Bowman Women; A Work In Progress
1 week ago