I stared at it. That behemoth coated in green. I wouldn’t let it get the best of me. It wasn’t a monster by super hero standards. More like a monster by gardening standards.
Each spring, I put in a garden. Cayenne peppers, bell peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes, eggplant, and basil. That’s what I plant. And along comes that is everyone’s least favorite plants. Weeds. In my case, lots of them.
The week after Memorial Day, it rained here in the Raleigh area. No, it poured. Every day for a week. I told myself I’d get out there the following Saturday and weed the garden. Not to happen since the Tuesday after Memorial Day, I came down with a bad cold that my husband caught as well. We got laid up the entire weekend.
Last Monday, I looked at the garden and shuddered.
It’s a small, urban garden. We have two tiers with the upper tier being twice as big as the lower one. Green stuff covered the upper tier. I shuddered as I stared at it. A big task by anyone’s book. Below is my mental diary as I weeded it.
1325 hours (that’s 1:25 p.m. for you non-military types) – Weeding begins. To accomplish weeding I need music. A mix of folk and blues will suffice. I turn on my phone and bend down to begin my task.
1355 hours (1:55 p.m.) – Weeding is kind of fun. The breeze coming through the garden, plus my hat and long-sleeved shirt keep me cool and bug free. And let’s not forget bug spray as well. I’m enjoying myself quite nicely.
1425 hours (2:25 p.m.) – I’m still enjoying it. Weeding gives me time to pray for those who pop into my mind, like a neighbor a couple of streets over.
1455 hours (2:55 p.m.) – Oh, no. I’m an hour and a half in, and I’ve only done one-third of the upper tier. This is going to take a lot longer than I thought. But at least the part I’ve done looks good.
1525 hours (3:25 p.m.) – Now the knees and back start to ache. This is worse than medieval torture. Thank goodness for back squats at the gym because otherwise, I’d be in agony now.
1555 hours (3:55 p.m.) – I’m squatting near the tomato plants and need to rise to give my knees and back a rest. Wait. I’m not sure I can rise. Not good at all. With effort, I make it upright. Oh, sweet relief—until I contemplate the fact that now, I must bend over / squat again. Ugh.
1625 hours (4:25 p.m.) – Weeding is not fun now. I’m tired, hungry, and sweaty. My fingers are stained with dirt. I’m so over this. Disgusting weeds! Especially the nasty-looking one with thorns on it. Just a little more to go.
1655 hours (4:55 p.m.) – Finally! Done! But only with the top tier. My heart sinks. I’m out of time. No more today, not that I mind. Hardly. Sitting on the screened-in porch with a cold drink in my hand seems like a great idea. I must do that. One small victory for this gardener.
As I looked back on my work, a sense of satisfaction filled me. Where green weeds had nearly drowned out the tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, and basil, now only dark soil and vegetable plants remained. And that pesky bottom tier? I think it’ll have to wait until next weekend.
Question: What chore do you normally try to avoid?