I fancy myself a Gardener

GO-0404By Georgia Osten,
I think that’s what my name means, you know when you go look up your name and they tell you what you were meant to do or be, well, that’s me. Whenever I’m asked what my hobby is, like on your password for your bank account, I always say Gardening. Anyway, I recently asked my husband if he would cut my garden in half. It was too big for me to handle. So, during the busiest time of year in our lives, he proceeds to get out there and begin moving the wooden sides of the raised garden. No pressure there, the little veggie plants I bought and lovingly tended to before I could get them in the ground prospered. Only a few looked a bit tired by planting time. We shoveled the excess dirt as we lowered the extinct side into the new garden, shoveled and shoveled. A neighbor finally came over “hey, know where I can get any good dirt?” Relief at last, “go on ahead, take what you need!”

Next morning, after planting all these lovely vegetables, I went out to look over the back deck to our new garden and I’ll be darned if my cucumbers and okra plants were missing. Fresh little tracks in the garden and the little varmints had dined off the delicate leaves.

Next plan of action – mothballs! All over the garden and all around the perimeter. That did it, but I couldn’t stand the smell. Picked up all the mothballs and spread some high dollar critter ridder stuff I found at The Big Store. New cucumbers and new okra and all seem to be thriving finally.

Sorry raccoons and skunks – no watermelons this year. I learned my lesson.
[4-3-2017]

GO’s Sand Bucket is only one beach bum’s journal of life at the beach, probably something each of you can relate to. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts, visions and/or feelings of just exactly what the beach means to you. Email: [email protected]

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