Grandpa's gardens are resting quietly by the side of the house, waiting. Last year they grew carrots, beets and beans, peppers, tomatoes, and very likely squash. A scarecrow, who looked amazingly like Dad, was there to "scare away" little rabbits, and there was a little rabbit who found himself in a heap of trouble after nibbling on Dad's vegetables. And, of course, there was Dad who lovingly tended his garden, compared notes with Bethany and me (encouraging the amateur gardeners in the family), and who was more than happy to share of his bounty.
I have a renewed quest to make my own little square foot gardens successful. It was Dad's enthusiasm that got us gardening and kept us at it and somehow, I still want to grow a garden he would be proud of.
I have a sneaking suspicion that even if Dave and Leta are too preoccupied with work and babies, there will still be a little garden tucked between the next door fence and the side of Mom's house. How could we let Grandpa's gardens lie idle after all the work he put into making them? Besides, nobody likes a fresh tomato sandwich better than Grandma!
The Barn Collective.
18 hours ago