Bolted

Botched Garden

So what is new?

I was so excited – last year – to finally get a box built for a raised garden in my back yard. It even has a marvelous chicken wire lid to keep the critters out. It should work.

I filled it with dirt. It took twenty bags. I happily planted my veggies.

I knew better, but I planted three hills of zucchini in this little box. I never saw the peppers or carrots. I saw a few beans, but not much.

Still, at the beginning of the season, I posted photos and said I would let everybody know how my garden grew.

But Then…

My family tornado hit. My Mom died and I became her executor/personal representative. Her estate went into probate. If anyone has ever dealt with this, you know what I mean. Overseeing the estate, in probate, became a full-time job.

My garden went to seed. Well, except for one monster zucchini. It just grew and grew until I pulled everything out for the winter.

“Next year,” I thought. “I’ll be able to tend my garden. It will be great!”

The Next Year (2025)

Starting over with my garden. I added more dirt and planted seeds. NO zucchini this year. I can get that from just about everybody I know anyway. So, magic beans (the purple ones that turn green when you cook them – fun beans!), peppers, cucumber and lettuce.

I licked my chops, anticipating my fresh produce.

But Then (Again)…

My sister died. The death duties started all over again. Much of her stuff was tied to my Mom’s still open estate.

You guessed it. The garden got ignored again. No, wait—I got a handful of magic beans and cooked them. I ate them. I actually got to enjoy something from my garden. Yum.

I will check it out again this week to see if I have anything else. I haven’t seen more beans, cucumbers. And no peppers.

Bolted

The biggest thing is—the biggest thing. My lettuce is TALL. If it could grow out of the box, it might be taller than me.

Two friends asked if my lettuce had bolted.

I have never heard the term “bolted” applied to a garden before. I guess it means it got out of hand. Yep.

When they asked if my lettuce had bolted, I imagined my lettuce stalks picking up their skirts and running up the street. AND NOT LOOKING BACK. After all, I had abused them.

So, I determined that either people will have to stop dying in the summer or I will have to give up gardening.

God help me.