Well, a few weeks ago, my husband outdid himself. I came home from work one afternoon, and he had that "little boy who just got into the cookie jar" look, so I knew something was up. He invited me out to the workshop to see what he had bought for me. Oh, how sweet, I thought, and it wasn't even my birthday!
He led me to the shop and proudly pointed out his "gift of love."
A brand new, muscle-powered (no wasting of gas like the tiller)
Oh, I said. That's nice.
He continued to explain the benefits of such a fine piece of machinery. It fits easily between the rows. It's just my size. And the biggie: I won't have to wait for him to till the garden anymore (see how thoughtful he is).
Okay, to be honest, he knows how much I like gardening and old things, so I have to give him some credit.
It really is a pretty contraption.
Yesterday I thought I would give the new plow a try. When I pushed it down the row between the snake beans and peas, it turned the weeds and soil amazingly well.
Hmmm...I decided this was fun. I continued along the row, turning at the end to come back down the row. After about 8 trips up and down the 50 foot row, I had a nice, clean tilled pathway. Only 11 more rows to go.
It wasn't bad once I got the hang of it. I only dropped it on three pea plants. I only plowed up 4 corn stalks. I only skinned one knuckle when I passed the post holding the sprinkler head. I only got one busted blister.
AND, the best part was, it only took me four more hours to finish tilling the whole garden (and saving all that gas).
This morning I realized another benefit of my husband's love gift.
I no longer need the treadmill (Maybe my husband will sell it and buy me a thoughtful gift for Mother's Day).