I don't know that I have anything profoud that I've gleaned, but Christine and I worked on our square foot garden quite a bit over the weekend.
That involved assembling the boxes, interlocking cedar planks with old-fashioned pegs that hold them in place. I felt a little like an Anabaptist putting those into place. I just needed one of those black, wide-brimmed hats like Harrison Ford wore in Witness.
Once those were ready we put up some metal arches from which we will string netting for tomato plants to climb. Alleviates the need for staking. I'm sure it's better in some way and has been discussed extensively on PBS.
Next came the mixing of the various kinds of compost with vermiculite. I wasn't really sure what vermiculite was before this project, but it's basically those little white, nearly weightless pellets that're always mixed in with potting soil. It's considered a mineral and I think it is basically a soil conditioner. I don't know what that means but I read it somewhere.
You have to wear a mask when you're initially dealing with it so you don't inhale any dust. I don't like things that require me to wear a mask. Some people are scared of snakes.
I once did a newspaper series on asbestos. I'm scared of particulates.
I felt distinctly more industrial than "back to the land" during that portion of the endeavor.
After we had the vermiculite mixed in and dampened, I allowed myself to inhale again.
And it was time to shovel the mix into the cedar plant boxes.
I pretended I was Van Helsing unearthing one of the brides of Dracula. Made it more interesting.
Finally it was all done and I draped a tarp over the effort lest Oliver Littlechap our indoor/outdoor kitty think I'd constructed two new litter boxes for his convenience. So far he's taken little interest. I've decided to take that as a good omen.
We gardeners are big into things like omens. And almanacs. Must remember to get an almanac.
The plants arrive from the antiquarian plant dealers in about a week.
Purple tomatos will be here before you know it.