How Does Your Garden Grow?

by
Janet Poston

Spring is right around the corner.  “Yes!”  It’s time to start tilling the soil for our garden.  In the past we have used our draft horse, Cash (pictured below).  He is an awesome Percheron horse who actually trained to be in an ad for Southern States before we bought him ten years ago.  However, he did not dapple out quite enough and was never included in the ad.  Who cares about a few extra spots, we don’t.  Ol’ Cash actually has lost more of his gray over the past few years.  He now is more white than gray. 

Will riding Cash; me holding Rett.

The nearby Amish still do all their tilling using draft horses.  To save on time, we no longer use Cash.  We now use two different sized gas tillers; a Troy-Bilt & a Stihl.  Up until last summer, Stan* tilled frequently to keep the soil in good shape.  *(My beloved husband of over thirty-five years, Stan, passed away last July 24.  He was, by no stretch of the imagination, a master gardener). . . So, needless to say, Stan is sorely missed (for a thousand different reasons), and our gardening skills won’t be nearly as sharp.  Tilling will have to be taken over by the rest of us.

Why till?

• Tilling breaks up the ground into fine particles, making it easier to plant seeds and pull weeds, and of course the roots of the plants can grow quickly and easily. 

• Tilling works in the added fertilizer.  We use only natural/organic fertilizers (from our chickens and cows).  We do use green-manuring, too.  This is simply tilling in leftover pea and bean vines, etc. from the summer/fall garden or tilling in cover crop such as rye grass, buckwheat, and alfalfa.  All this fertilizer is mixed up and stirred around in the dirt.  Hey, we know what’s in/on our food. -- We know our farmers!
  
• Tilling also fights those dreaded weeds. 
  
  

Wright tilling in the background.

We know Stan will be smiling down from heaven as we continue on with something that was so dear to his heart!

The ground is still damp from our most recent snow, thunderstorms, and flash flooding.  Hopefully, it will be drying out soon.  The weatherman indicates that we should be drying out next week so that we can begin to till within the next few days.  If the soil is too wet, it won’t till right and the dreaded soil lumps will hinder plant growth.  But, as soon as the soil is ready, we’ll be ready to do our part.  The gardening is just beginning!

Even if you can only put out a small garden patch, it’s better than no patch at all and just think . . . while gardening, the sun will provide you with a source of much needed Vitamin D and you will be Toning your Mind, Body, & Spirit.  Hopefully, this is an activity you can share with your family or neighbors.  You'll not only grow your veggies/herbs/fruit you'll know what they don't have--say E-coli for example.  Best of all, your produce will be Fresh, Nutritious and Delicious! 

Wishing you happy gardening days!

My Father's Gardens

Homage to Dad

by Jena Sanders

As the long, cold winter months give way to warmer and slightly longer days, new life emerges.  Any among us who have ever gardened begin to feel the itch of planning for the new season.  Whether space permits only a few potted plants on the back porch, or we have a whole acre devoted to sowing seeds and planting, our efforts are rewarded by reaping fruits brought forth from our labour.

As springtime looms in the not so distant future, the comig spring is a bittersweet time.  This is the first year without my beloved father, who was and will remain forever in my heart as "The World's Best Gardener (and Dad)."

Dad and his helpers, Wright, Jack and Weaver

Like Thomas Jefferson, my father advocated an agrarian society; a community subsiding primarily by agriculture:  defined as the science, art and practice of farming; concerned with cultivating land, raising crops, and feeding, breeding, raising livestock and families. My father was an agriculturist; an artist, scientist and practitioner of farming.  By God's grace he was able to become an excellent one.

Dad tending his annual Asparagus, Blackberry bushes on the left.

As long as I can remember, my father enjoyed gardening.  I was born and lived my first two years of my life on a farm.  Our family would move 12 times thru seven states.  Residing in cities, suburbs, or rural country, my father would, while still working a full-time government job, make time to plant and tend a garden.  The gardens would range in size and in produce depending on where we were living at the time.  There always was a garden.   There was never an excuse for him not to have one, although there were plenty of excuses my siblings and i had to get out of the gardening chores.  Picking up rocks from the soil, and pulling weeds, someone has to do it, fun times or not.  And, besides, that's what children are for, little helpers, no? :)

Jack in the Beanstalks

As my father worked in the soil, he approached the gates of heaven in a communion of sorts.  There exists an intimate metaphor between God and the earth from which He made man and man's own creative work in the soil.

Mom and her three grandsons, Will, Jack and Rett

For my father, whether or not he fully understood the full effect of his actions, was able to nourish the ones he loved the most with more than just physical nourishment.  By his blood, sweat, tears and loving energy he provided nourishment for our souls.

 Rett enjoying fresh English peas off the vine.

By my dad showing us how to cultivate the land, he cultivated our minds; forever shaping the way we think and the way we strive to live.

 Community Garden Night '10

During the past three years, we (my three other siblings, my mom, husband and my three sons) wanted to help in his endeavors and established a family gardening night (after work hours).  This past year we had additional help from friends interested in learning gardening skills.  On these garden evenings we would come to be his helper bees, whether in the fields or inside preserving the harvest by canning.  We worked for several hours into the darkening evening, often sweaty, tired and dirty.  Together we rejoiced at the supper table for God's gracious provisions, sharing a meal freshly picked from the garden.

Simple, nutritious meal (for the boys)--Homegrown Sausage & Fresh Veggies

This year our garden will be quite different.  We amateurs trying to produce the beautiful majesty that was Dad's garden is a tremendous challenge.  But, as my father strove to provide the loving nourishment found uniquely by the fruit of one's own labour, we too, shall continue on.  Picturing my father cultivating a perfect garden within the gates of heaven, looking down on his legacy, I pray our efforts will be blessed.