Garden Fatigue

 

[This was taken 3 weeks ago, but was still fairly accurate until we started ripping things out today.]

I'm done with the vegetable garden for the year.

It was not done yet, as the giant zucchini and mounds of green tomatoes on my counter can attest.

But I am done.

It happens every year about this time.

It's like Jack Frost and I have a handshake agreement somewhere around the beginning of October:

"Yep, 'bout time to wrap things up around here." 

Really, that last frost comes just in time--usually.

 

 

This year we have yet to have a killing frost, and won't for at least another week, if my phone's weather app is to be believed.

There was a part of me that felt guilty today, pulling up live tomato plants.

These could have had another 2 weeks!

On the other hand, will I care more about the garden in 2 weeks? No, I will not. 

Up came the tomatoes.

Plus, today was mild. It was not raining or windy. I had time to do it.

None of those things are guarantees in the remaining days of garden life.

 

 

[Petrified pea patch intact, as of a week ago. Keepin' it real around here.]

 

 I enjoy vegetable gardening, and I marvel at it. It's amazing how those tiny seeds, sown in the warming soil of May can produce many handfuls and bucketfuls of delicious things to eat in just 2 or 3 short months. Also, I'm grateful that our family is not solely dependent on what I grow for our yearly food.

 

Even as late as August, I'm usually still gung-ho, despite the heat.

30 more tomatoes? Bring it on! Homemade tomato sauce all winter! Hooray!

Zucchini bread, yum.

All of it. Awesome.

 

[From 2 days ago: dessicated pea patch gone. Everything else the same.]

 

Then along comes September, and my enthusiasm begins to wane. I see another round of ripening tomatoes on the vines and my eyes start to glaze over.

I stop watering.

Completely.

I have already pinched off the growing tips of all the vines, in hopes that what is on them will ripen up before frost. That's kind of how I feel, too.

Pinched back.

Ready to take care of what I've got without a bunch of new stuff cropping up.

 

 This year I've had it especially bad, due to the marathon backyard work project that's been going on. I haven't set foot in my backyard in 2 months.

To even get to the garden, you have to make a trek out the front door and all the way down on the side wall. There's a somewhat dry spot where you can step to climb up onto the garden wall, then finally make your way over to what you're hoping to pick.

Then you get to carry it with you as you do the whole thing in reverse.

Heaven help you if one of the kids has to use the restroom RIGHT NOW!

(Run fast darling, but whatever you do, don't fall off the wall and crush the grass seedlings!)

 

[Everyone look at me! Ha! That's about right.]

 

I've talked with friends who are big into extending the season.

They start planting peas and beets and all those cold-weather veggies again in July or August, for harvesting in the fall and early winter.

I admire their energy.

I just...I can't do that right now. I don't have it in me.

I may not be ready for winter, but ready to winterize?

Yes, I am.

 

[This year's potato harvest, with the last of the carrots.]