I think I may have a gambling problem. No, not the traditional casino poker, blackjack type of gambling. Not the Powerball ticket that I buy even though I have taught statistics and know that my chances are slim to none.
No, my gambling has to do with the weather. Three weeks ago the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the temperatures for several days had been warm, and that little patch of earth in my backyard was calling my name. I know, after many years of gardening, that one should never plant before Memorial Day or, as the seed packages all state, “after last danger of frost.” But it was so beautiful out and our growing season in New England is so darn short. And, isn’t our globe warming?
To plant or not to plant: That is the question.
I planted. I gambled with Mother Nature and put my herbs into the nicely turned earth.
I did run out of time that day and never did get the zucchini, eggplant, or tomatoes into the ground. Probably a fortuitous turn of events.
The next Sunday morning, I went out walking with my friend Sheila. It was sort of humid in the cool morning air, but definitely comfortable. When we had finished our hour-long trek, I headed home. After lunch – not 45 minutes later — Joel and I went outside to do some yard work. Lo and behold, the day had turned nasty. The temperature had dropped about fifteen degrees, the wind was howling, and rain bordering on hail was pelting us in the face. Mother Nature had decided to punish her rebellious child.
I groaned. What had I done to my garden?
Surprisingly, the herbs withstood the onslaught and are still standing.
But, for the other vegetables, I will wait until Memorial Day to plant the veggies.
But today is so nice …