Salty Besos: Well, that hypothesis didn't pan out.

While I found a moderate correlation between when I post on my blog and the day of the week, it was not statistically significant. Therefore I must reject the null hypothesis and accept that I am erratic as all get out and probably cannot be relied on for escapism during your workday. You are better off with that cartoon hamster thing that runs around its wheel. Or puppies.

Now that I have sufficiently lowered your expectations, I will proceed with a post. Probably followed shortly with another one. Because you know. Erratic.

And also, I love you! Don't leave meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! O.k.? I’ll post more, I promise! Just don’t leave me! I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed you.

Chris is gone this weekend, getting his fix of outdoors and peeing in the woods. Or whatever. That leaves me with the kiddos, which thus far has been easy street, as Chris’ mom has taken them for most of today. I spent the time enjoying a long run with Kodi and working in the garden. We are in the no-till section of our community garden this year, which didn’t make it into the national headlines for some reason, but it’s a really freaking big deal.

Our garden has been tilled every single year since time began (and some of our gardeners were there to see it happen), and what that means is: no raspberries, rhubarb or garlic. It means not being able to plant in fall for those crops that actually do well in cold weather. It means knowing that whatever you plant this year won’t grow back again next spring. It means throwing money down year after year for a new batch of annuals and pulling in your harvest madly before the big tractor comes through and plows everything under. It means not caring about the quality of your soil, because you’re probably just going to get reassigned next year.

Humph.

We worked to have the community garden’s till policy changed last year and starting this spring we were finally given plots that will not be tilled regularly. I’ve spent a lot of time this year planting strawberries and raspberries and gleefully telling everyone I know that we have a no-till plot this year. We have a no-till plot this year.

We have a no-till plot this year.

Hey, guess what? We have a no-till plot this year.

So, as every year, I have been completely absorbed in gardening these past few weeks. I put in eight rows of potatoes (including blue potatoes. Did you know there are such things as blue potatoes? Well, they’re real. And that brings the number of blue foods found in the natural world up to three, by my count: berries, corn and potatoes. Generally, though, if it’s blue, it probably doesn’t belong in your mouth- I’m talking to you, Cool Ranch Doritos), two rows of lettuce, two rows of spinach, four rows of peas, fifteen tomato plants (we'll undoubtedly get more), and several broccoli, kale and cabbage plants. We planted sunflowers all along the border of the plot. The berries line the back edge of the garden and this year we’ll plant a few lilies, just because they are so pretty.

But the best part of the garden is the bench. Chris built it with scrap wood he found a few years ago, and marvelous as it is, it has been sitting on our deck, not getting much use, for way too long. I hauled it out to the garden, and oh, my.

Oh my.

Every garden should have such a bench. A place to sit and ponder the world. A place to enjoy the richness of the garden and of life. A place to park your tired toucass after a hard day shoveling compost. A garden bench makes the world just a little bit better. And this bench, built by Chris, inspired by Aldo Leopold, and planted in our garden along with our strawberries and sunflowers makes the world a lot better.
Here are some pics from yesterday in the garden. Though not much to look at yet, hope is already sprouting and the radishes are right behind it.

The bench: