Finally: July. Now things can grow. It’s been wet and cool and the garden plants are pretty puny. The past couple of days have gotten into the 90s and you can practically watch the plants growing.
I have a large cold frame that has watermelon and cantelopes growing. It’s going to get really crowded in that thing, but North-Central Minnesota is not conducive to growing melons. I’m also hoping the cold frame keeps the woodchucks away. They’ve gotten the watermelon plants the last two years.
We probably have about 1/8th of an acre dedicated to the garden. It’s in about 5 or 6 different plots. The newest and largest addition has our tomatoes, green beans, cabbages, some potatoes, and field corn.
How do I find my heart to write? Where can I find the energy and time? What I just wrote is boring, a litany of nothingness. My life is full of joy with family and farm. A full-time job seems to pull me away from that joy.
Have I just written a modern blog entry? A personal and private feeling made public to an unseen audience? Why do people do that? Why did I just do it?