Over the weekend I finally planted my handful of seedlings and sowed the remaining heirloom seeds. Oh how I have missed gardening. I can take a small patch of ground, some dirt, and transform it into something beautiful and sustaining. It is pure magic.
Because it was also my first Sunday Family Dinner, a new weekly gathering of family and close friends, I was exhausted from cooking, cleaning (mostly managing the cleaning process while the kids do the physical work), and organizing.
I had to depend on the boys to water the garden over the weekend. I was just too tired and sore to do it myself.
This morning I decided it was time to start my morning gardening routine -- check the plants, pull weeds, and water if necessary. The top 1/8th of the garden soil was moist but everything below that was bone, dusty dry.
Oops. We have had nothing but sprinkles for weeks so the soil was very dry. I hadn't taken the time to explain the watering process and the science behind it to my boys. They watered until it looked like the water was not being absorbed and thought all was well.
They didn't know that dry soil is very difficult to water. When it is completely dry water tends to run off. There is deep philosophical meaning in this part of the story, but that isn't what I am writing about today.
So this morning I started the real watering process. First, I had to create bowls around the seedlings I had planted to encourage water down towards the roots of those plants. Then I had to water, let it soak in, water, rest, water, scratch around a little in the soil, water some more. It took me about an hour to get water 2-3 inches below the surface.
As I finished up I saw a small patch of violets among some weeds near one of the garden beds. Somehow I had been so focused on the task of watering that I failed to see the beauty of these tiny purple flowers. I snapped a pic with my phone and went on.