The garden’s planted. Kinda pathetic looking, eh? This is from two weeks ago, so you have to visualize that it’s about 2% better now.
We spent most of last year in Florida. When we returned to home, the weeds were 10 feet tall. So I was thinking: maybe we didn’t need a garden. Maybe cleaning out the barn counts as farming. I can think of worse things we do to ourselves than eating tomatoes from Wal-Mart.
However, Greg (the husband and manual labor) and Wilma (the only farm animal who doesn’t give me grief) came to the rescue. <—— Awkward sentence alert.
Enter Wilma: stage right (…and then stage left and center and back and left and right-left-left-ooomph….).<<< – That’s us trying to figure out how to catch a pig.
(The way I see it, bacon ought to be $20 a pound.)
A pig is a wonderful tiller. Just pop her in there and let ‘er go. Pretty much. I’m into stuff that doesn’t require sweat and back-breaking labor.
I’m not sure how this helps anyone in a neighborhood with a homeowner’s association, but I’m throwing it out there anyway.
Don’t forget to leave time for the sow’s manure to decompose. Other than that, that’s my tip for the year.
I’m sure this was helpful to everyone.
Someone left a comment on an earlier post saying that their pig ruined their garden by making the soil all clumpy. So keep that in mind. This may or may not be horrible advice.