Shaken and Stirred...

 I know it's been awhile since I have written a blog and today I thought I better write something, anything to just get back into the blogging groove of things. There really hasn't been much exciting to report on, and like most of you, I have been eagerly awaiting the arrival of spring. Yesterday was the first real day that actually felt like winter was behind me and that spring was waiting to burst out in all it's glory. It was finally warm, over 70 degrees, the forsythia and daffs were blooming, and after many trips out to the garden daily with my spade....the soil was finally dry enough for me to break out the rototiller.

Now unless you are a gardener you won't understand how exciting a prospect this is to a person. There is nothing like the feeling of getting out in the veggie patch, hanging onto for dear life to a shaking machine of whirling tines, and eating a bit of dirt as you try to prepare the soil for your future planting efforts.

It's because of gardening that I found most of you, thru chats, or blogs, or other means, most of us had a common interest, and bond of gardening. For some it's a hobby, for others a means of livelihood. For years in my rural area, gardening took on a fever pitch of it's own. Everyone had a garden, large or small it didn't matter, everyone just grew a garden of something. There would be arguments and disagreements on which varieties were better than others, but for the most part, if you had a crop failure of tomatoes or onions or green beans, you would find yourself loaded down with sacks on your doorstep of extra produce.

What I remember most though from all of those years of gardening were the neighbors within my neighborhood. Just down the hill from me was a retired farmer and his wife and even though they had moved into town he brought with him a small tractor that he used to plow his garden each year. One door down from him was another gardener. A couple with a large family that grew a huge garden to feed all those hungry mouthfuls. Over a block or two, another couple, childless they grew a garden for themselves but ended up giving most of the produce away each year.

With all of those neighbors, there was a bit of an unspoken competition.....who would get their garden in first. It was as if the moment the sound of a tiller, caused such a commotion as to make the other neighbors drop what they were doing to peer out their windows, over their fences and sneak a peek on who was out in their garden. Once that person had started up their rototiller, they had shaken up the neighborhood, and soon the air was filled with the hum of other rototillers. Neighbors would walk or drive by,...stopping to ask what you were planting and then soon rush home to start planting as well, so not appear to be left behind. Once you had broken out that tiller, it was a silent challenge to your neighbor.

Yesterday when I finally started up my rototiller late in the morning, the air was quiet except for the whirling blades of my tiller. I didn't hear any other motors start up. The old retired farmer and his wife have long since past, their home now sitting empty and used for storage by another neighbor. The couple down the hill from them, also passed on, their large brood scattered except for the youngest son now living their with his small family of two. The childless couple over from them, still gardening, but out of town and visiting friends. It was a quiet day on my block and it seemed a bit sad and melancholy to not hear those familiar sounds and stirring of old friends and neighbors playing in the dirt as well.

I sat outside for a bit last night and enjoyed seeing the darkness of the newly turned earth of my planted garden and listened to the birds, a few car door slams from people coming home from work or going out for dinner. Leaning my chin on the handle of my hoe it was so very peaceful. My next door neighbor soon drove by....and later drove by again very slowly. It gave me a small devilish smirk on my face,.... I knew I had stirred them up a little bit and they would be out tomorrow tilling their garden if it wasn't raining.


It's a small town version of keeping up with the Jones's ...but in a good way.


***side note: Today I opened up a can of black olives and StinkPot the cat went absolutely nuts. It was as if I had waved a cluster of catnip in her face. As I am typing this blog she has dug the empty can out of the trash...again... So does anyone know if olives are good/harmful for cats?