Wednesday, June 22, 2005, 19:42
With a Magnifying Glass and Tweezers
I like growing carrots in my garden. Really I do. Honest.
Well, it's not *growing* them that I like -- it's eating them fresh from my own garden. And to get to that point, I have to grow them first.
And to grow them, I have to weed them. That's the part I don't like -- weeding carrots. It wouldn't be so bad if the weeds wouldn't grow in between the carrots, and if the weeds wouldn't grow faster than the carrots, but they do.
The other day I started the painstaking process of weeding our three rows of carrots. The carrots are coming along quite well. The weeds are coming along better, unfortunately.
Every time I start weeding carrots, the thought crosses my mind that a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers might not be a bad idea. The problem with weeds in the carrots, and with weeds that are much bigger than the carrots, is that when you pull out the weeds, you run the risk of pulling out the carrots, too.
But -- I have never gotten to the point where I have brought out my magnifying glass and tweezers. Instead, I crouch on my haunches, my face only a foot or so above the carrots, as I carefully grasp each weed and try to gently pull it out of the ground. Most of the time I succeed. Once in a while, a carrot comes out with the weeds, but there's not much I can do about that.
I have found it works better to pull weeds out of the carrots when the sun is high in the sky and I can really see what I am doing. Of course, when the sun is high in the sky, it is also very hot out in the garden. That's why I only do part of a row at a time. I figure I won't do my carrots any good if I end up with sunstroke and can't go outside at all.
Damp ground makes it easier to pull weeds, too. After the thunderstorm on Monday, the ground is moist, and the weeds are easier to separate from the soil.
I've only got about a third of a row left now. Maybe I can get at them this evening, before the sun sets and I can't see what I'm doing. And before the mosquitoes discover that I am working in the garden.
After everything we go through to raise carrots, maybe *that's* what makes them taste just so much sweeter. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
Monday, June 20, 2005, 18:01
A Good Job Done
I certainly received my fair share of weight-bearing exercise this weekend. Whenever I read an article or hear some health expert on television talking about the importance of weight-bearing exercise to keep your bones strong, I always wonder if baling hay is what they have in mind. I am really hoping that carrying and throwing and stacking 30-40-50 pound hay bales counts for *something* in relation to weight-bearing exercise.
Last week, since the weather was so beautiful and the weather forecasters were not predicting any rain (and, as my husband gleefully pointed out, for once they were right!), my brother decided to cut down all of his hay.
Saturday afternoon, Randy and I went over to the farm to help. While my sister-in-law and Randy baled, my brother and I unloaded hay in the pole shed. Unloading hay used to be easier before the barn burned down: put the bales on the elevator, and let the elevator do the work of carrying the hay up to the mow. Now it's a matter of pushing, pulling, heaving, hoisting and throwing the bales to get them to the top of the stack.
Sunday afternoon, my nephew and his wife were there to help, as well, so while my sister-in-law drove the tractor, they loaded the wagons, my brother raked and Randy and I unloaded hay in the pole barn.
My brother was delighted and astounded that he got his hay put up in only five days, all 1,350 bales of it. And it's beautiful hay, too. Dried to perfection. Lovely horse hay -- timothy and a little alfalfa. Since there are so few dairy cows or beef cows in the country anymore, my brother has gone into the horse hay business. Many horses around the countryside, but most people who have horses don't have the land, the equipment or the know-how to bale their own hay.
I suppose lots of other folks were out enjoying the perfect summer weather this weekend, too -- going on picnics, taking their motor boats out on the lake, backyard cookouts, going fishing -- but as for me, I would much rather be baling hay. There's nothing in the world like it. Deep blue sky. Hot sunshine. Breeze out of the south. Throwing bales around. Sweating buckets. Hay chaff sticking to my face and arms and neck. Riding on the wagon. Driving the tractor. Listening to the baler at work. Spending time with my husband. Spending time with my brother, my sister-in-law, my nephew and his wife.
And when the work is finished, knowing that it is "a good job done."
LeAnn R. Ralph