Mercy. I am a constant gardener: Constantly fighting to tame my wayward organic garden again this year.
I love working in the garden, but do find that here in Montana it’s a lot of, well, work to grow one successfully.
Though I lost thirty-two tomato starts to a late snowfall; though my daikon radishes have bolted and are flowering; though a certain ginger cat keeps using the raised beds as an open-air lavatory… I’m trying.
Our potatoes are thriving, carrots struggling. The dill and cilantro should yield a bountiful harvest, though I’m not holding my breath over the green onions. Tomatoes should be plentiful again, so long as I can keep the deer away come autumn. Our ladybug paratroopers have been deployed, but we’re still waiting on the praying mantises (manti?) to hatch.
There’s a reason most farmers out here are actually ranchers… Our house was literally built on river bed, the rock to soil ratio is laughable. Husband and I joke that had we travelled here as settlers in search of suitable farmland, we’d have kept right on going westward.
Note: IF you permit your darling bunnies to merrily hop about your vegetable garden, they WILL dig a burrow beneath the lush foliage of your potato plants, thereby unearthing the literal (albeit premature) fruit of your labor, and cheerily help themselves to a fresh, starchy snack.
“To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” -Audrey Hepburn