Science class 101

Every gradeschooler knows that if there's thunder and lightening you don't go stand under a tree, or out in an open field, or I don't know, hold a 4 ft long length of rebar over your head while sitting on the wet grass. Right? Obviously, I am not a gradeschooler. It dawns on me from time to time that it really is amazing that I've survived as long as I have.

I'm frantically trying to get my last ditch garden stuff done, being as how it will be July next week. So I'm finishing up little things like stapling chicken wire on fences and building trellises. I found a WONDERFUL plan for upright trellises in the Book of Square Foot Gardening. Basically, you pound a couple of 4ft lengths of rebar into the ground and slip a 5ft or so length of 1 in. pvc over the rebar, then stretch cargo netting between the poles, attach to the pvc with zip ties, and voila! you have fabulous upright garden growth. Saves space, creates green walls, and looks like you might actually know what you're doing in the garden.

Neither the weather nor my level of motivation have been overly cooperative, and as a result, I am a little behind. So yesterday I swore I would get this stuff finished up. I awoke to a glorious sunny day, went to market and picked up some final flowers to stuff into the beds. I planted a few, scraped the weeds out of the driveway crack and watered the flower beds before the boy showed up to mow the lawn. I figured I could do some house stuff while he took care of the lawn, and then I would have all afternoon to finish up.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Mother nature being the unpredictable creature she is, decided that 20 minutes after the boy left, she would water my lawn. I literally had a "Huh?" moment when I noticed the sun had gone away and looming over me were big black clouds. Whatever. I was obsessed with pulling tiny little onion sprouts out of clumps and planting them individually. Bring it on! I was not moving.

I maintained this position as the skies opened up and began pelting me with cold, marble sized drops of water. One way or the other, those onions were going in. I dug through the mud, with grass clippings sticking to me and earwigs running for their lives, and planted each and every one of those precious little plants. Then there was a huge, ground shaking crack of thunder just over my head, and I looked up and realized I was laying in wet grass and mud, behind an open field, underneath a trellis made of 3 lengths of steel pounded into the ground. Like lightening rods.



You've never seen a fat girl move that fast.