Post last updated: August 13th, 2018
“Joy,” a gal I met in one of those Extension Agent food classes, expressed interest in seeing my vegetable garden when I mentioned it in the first class in March. I assured her there was nothing much to see at that time as I had enlarged the garden in mid-February to 28 x 28 and was still working on raking the dirt, I mean soil, into hilled rows. Joy wanted to see it, anyway, so I invited her out after the second class. She seemed disappointed that all I had for Show ‘n Tell was dirt.
About five weeks later, she came again. By then, I had the beginnings of a vegetable garden. Most of the rows had itty bitty vegetable plants.
Another four weeks went by and she emailed me about coming to see my garden. I started to wonder about these inspections. It just so happens that her email arrived hours after a noisy little airplane had continuously circled my garden before the crows even thought about getting up. I got a little paranoid. Are all these people the Veggie Garden Police? Do they think I am growing marijuana tucked in among the tomato plants? I seriously thought about shooting the noisy plane out of the sky but I don’t think a cucumber launched from a sling shot would likely hit him. I tried to tell myself Joy was harmless. Just wanted to grow vegetables herself but, for whatever reason, hadn’t gotten her act together. I invited her out again.
I had a lot for her to see this time because my itty bitty plants were producing veggies. I had cukes, green beans, herbs, onions, peppers, squash, cherry tomatoes and the promise of butter beans, cantaloupe, corn, eggplant, gourds, potatoes, watermelon and several other weird melons.
Like a kid in a toy store, Joy whooped and hollered at the sight of the garden in mid-maturity. One of the barking dogs next door at Country Boy’s became alarmed at her enthusiasm and commenced to terrorize the silence of the neighborhood.
“You really are a farmer,” she shouted as though she had never believed me when I introduced myself as a farmer. Just because I don’t have overalls, a little red tractor, and an acre in production does not mean I’m not a farmer. It was fun to watch her share in the joy of my veggie garden. She admitted that she enjoyed being in the garden even though it wasn’t her garden. You can’t get any better appreciation than that, can you?