The first time you shovel dirt in over the new leafy potato plants, it just feels SO wrong. The second time, it feels even worse. I mean, they worked so hard to come up through that hard dirt, the newly dug trench in the clay bed. It seemed like they would never come up, and then suddenlly there they were. And I knew what I had to do.
So I filled in with a mix of compost and peat, feeling sorry for the poor dears, until they were two inches under the ground again. And within three days, they pushed through and were again sending out vigorous, leafy stems.
So yesterday I did it again, filling the trench almost level. I piled on, straight manure-laden compost this time, covering them another few inches. The last layer will be the soil I dug up to make the trench, and then I’ll put straw around the plants to mulch them and hopefully control some of the weeds that are sure to encroach.
Yesterday I looked over the bed once I’d put my shovel away– what a terrible thing, the worst thing I can imagine, to be buried alive.
I was tempted to claw through and expose each little plant again. But I resisted. It’s the potatoes I want, not the leaves. Hilling them up means more action underground. They’re strong; they can take it. I watered them instead.
It’s that time of year when it seems like things are growing before your very eyes. The pea plants are clinging to each other and I have to pry them away, train the little tendrils toward the rungs of their trellis. The lettuce that seemed to so sparsely germinate is crowded and full. The tomato plants, even the smallest ones I planted two weeks ago, have pushed their way through the Wall-o-Waters and require cages to keep them from being to compressed by the plastic walls. The garlic has such thick stalks– I can’t wait for the scapes to appear!
It’s Mother’s Day, that day we celebrate fruitfulness and fertility. And it is everywhere!