| When I was a kid, in the middle of last century, I lived on a farm with my two brothers. I am in the middle. I aged from eight to thirteen on that farm. Sorry, Jesuits, your maxim zeroed out with me. It was the second seven years that were crucial to my formation. And during that seven years, I had a vegetable patch. Correction, we all had a vegetable patch. It was the corner of the house paddock closest to the dam. Between the dam and the well. It was fenced. Yes it was fenced - a real fence and a virtual fence. The real fence outlined Mum's 'holding' and the virtual fence our three individual holdings. A bit like running yer elbow down the school desk and glaring if her shirt sleeve dared so much as to flap over the boundary! |
3 comments:
Such fun, your spring and our autumn. I can watch your veggies grow and not mind that my squashes and melons produced nothing this year.
Kay, Alberta, Canada
An Unfittie’s Guide to Adventurous Travel
Oh how exciting!
Love hearing about your ye olde vegie patch.
Did you have any fruit trees?
The poor delivery man must have been cursing you!
I grew some rockmelons from seed last year - but they only grew little plants and did nuthin. I might have planted them too late or maybe it was too wet and cold last summer.
What about strawberries?
Got any of them?
You have such a great feel for plants. Your story reminded me of the line down the middle of the bed I shared with my sister. The demarcation line only existed in summer, in winter we were perfectly happy to huddle together to get warm.
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