The Garden Tiller Gang

(Originally published March 24, 1982)

Spring is here!!

How in the world did I ever come to that conclusion, you ask yourself... well, it was the deafening roar that woke me up. At first, I thought it might be a tornado, but the sky was too bright, not a cloud in sight, so I knew that wasn't it. The noise grew louder and as I peeked out of the window, there it was. . . .

The GARDEN TILLER GANG had returned - just like the swallows to Capistrano. A lump came to my throat and tears to my eyes. I knew I had to face one more year of being intimidated. The smug look on their faces as they plowed up Mother Earth made me shudder. In my youth (two or three years ago), I too had visions of a garden that would make Jack Tobin green with envy and I tried, heaven knows, how hard I tried.

I just don't know what happens between the time I plant and the time for harvest, but . . . my eggplants never have yolks, the bell peppers won't ring, sweet peas only bloom for me (never set on pods), my cucumbers contain enough gas to fill 75 Goodyear blimps, and I have given up completely on cabbage. They never break through the soil (do you suppose I plant them too deeply?) I've even tried the old Indian method on corn putting a fish on each mound for fertilizer, and all I got was 250 purring neighborhood cats with silly grins.

Let's face it, the only time I ever had a green thumb was the year I accidentally stuck it in the Easter egg dye. Oh well, tomatoes give me the hives and my kids think anything green on the table has molded, so to the GARDEN TILLER GANG I say, "Go forth and plant." As for me, I will take my chances at the local supermarket.

Remember, a conscience doesn't always keep us from doing something. .. it just keeps us from enjoying it. "Til next week".

-Granny