Ah, spring. Time once again to indulge our inner horticulturalists and agrarians, to till the rich soil and begin the journey through the long, rich days of summer to a glorious harvest in the fall.
Or, if you prefer a less poetic approach, time to dig up the yard, throw in some seeds, and hope that whatever you planted doesn’t die.
I tend to go with the latter description. Not that I don’t like poetry — I am known far and wide for my ability to compose dirty limericks on demand — but because I see gardening for what it is: Backbreaking work. I dug up the vegetable garden on a Sunday and it was Wednesday afternoon before I could walk upright again. If my back wasn’t broken, it was severely bent.
Why? Because I turned the garden the old-fashioned way, with a shovel. It was the only alternative available after my yard-sale rototiller died with a rattle, a cough, and a burst of black smog. I knew instantly that it was beyond saving. I had a lawnmower, an Oldsmobile, and a chain-smoking great uncle who checked out the same way.
So there I was, out in the garden, turning the dirt with a shovel, pounding it with a hoe, grooming it with a rake, and reminding myself that in some parts of the world this is how they still plant crops.
(This, in turn, reminded me that in other parts of the world they have water buffalo to pull a plow. That led me to wonder if I could teach my dog Cookie to pull a garden plow. Answer, as I found out: Emphatic no.)
Now, you’ll notice I am speaking exclusively of a vegetable garden. I’m not much for flowers. If I’m going to throw out my back, I want something edible to show for it. Tomatoes. Green peppers. A couple of radishes. I don’t care, just as long as it’s food.
Of course, getting the food from the garden to the table isn’t easy, and I don’t just mean all the physical labor involved. First, you have to contend with the occasional dud, where you follow all the directions precisely, right down to using special fertilizer made of pasteurized Tibetan yak manure, and still the plants turn yellow and die as soon as they reach three inches tall. So much for selling okra to the neighbors.
Which brings us to those who wish to share your bounty. I speak of the local squirrels, who watched me plant seeds and planned their shopping lists accordingly: “Look! He’s planting fennel again! I love that stuff! I think we ate an entire row last year.”
Note: They did, and I was none too happy about it. For one thing, I love fennel. For another, I only planted one row.
So now the long growing season begins. We look at our seedlings, tiny little plants just breaking the surface of the earth, and see cabbages. Where today there’s just a piece of string marking a place in the soil, in fall there will be carrots. Ah, spring indeed. We cast our lot with nature (and the Burpee company) and begin the march toward bounteous autumn with hope in our hearts.
As in I hope the tomatoes don’t wilt. I hope the squirrels don’t eat all the fennel.
Friends, there is a danger hiding in practically every home, office and school. It masquerades as a harmless office supply but in reality, it has the ability to make people mentally unstable, disable a school system, and virtually bring a small town to its knees. It's known as (cue scary music), the post-it note.
As a resident of Plainfield and frequent walker on our excellent trail system, I have often wondered what the laws are concerning the marked pedestrian crosswalks throughout town. So I talked to the Plainfield Police Department.
Mitt Romney went into the wrong line of work. If only he had been a lecturer in constitutional law, he wouldn't have a business record vulnerable to distortion by a desperate incumbent president.
Now that the Obama administration has officially sided with corrupting man-wife marriage to also mean two men or two women, it's time for Christians to reflect on what's going on in the culture. To be sure, the measure must pass certain hurdles to be the secular law of the land. And, if the Republican candidate wins come November, there may be a further delay in its implementation. But don't count on it.
I'm back from a few shows at the security theater.
I slogged my way through four airports this past month, and played my interactive role in that daily, multi-billion-dollar production brought to us by the federal government with the colossally misleading name of "airline security."
President Barack Obama insists that he didn't announce his support for gay marriage out of political considerations. He's right. He did it out of self-regard.
Is that smoke? I think I smell something burning. Something is definitely scorched. Did someone just burn a ham or did Patricia Krentcil, a.k.a. "tanning mom" just walk into the room?
U.S. Sen. Dick Lugar - vanquished by age, longevity, barrel bottom congressional approval ratings, and an aggressive opponent in Treasurer Richard Mourdock - seemed to be bridging a divided party when he took the stage shortly after 8 p.m. Tuesday as the magnitude of the 61 percent to 39 percent landslide against him registered.
The Cleveland Five are a sad-sack collection of wannabe terrorists if there ever was one. The amateurish young men who plotted to destroy a bridge outside Cleveland last week give the impression of needing the attention of a guidance counselor as much as a federal prosecutor.
Human remains may be embedded in the mud of the North Atlantic where the New York-bound Titanic came to rest when it sank 100 years ago, a federal official said.
Commentary
Spring has sprung, and so have my vertebrae
BY MIKE REDMOND
Ah, spring. Time once again to indulge our inner horticulturalists and agrarians, to till the rich soil and begin the journey through the long, rich days of summer to a glorious harvest in the fall.
Or, if you prefer a less poetic approach, time to dig up the yard, throw in some seeds, and hope that whatever you planted doesn’t die.
I tend to go with the latter description. Not that I don’t like poetry — I am known far and wide for my ability to compose dirty limericks on demand — but because I see gardening for what it is: Backbreaking work. I dug up the vegetable garden on a Sunday and it was Wednesday afternoon before I could walk upright again. If my back wasn’t broken, it was severely bent.
Why? Because I turned the garden the old-fashioned way, with a shovel. It was the only alternative available after my yard-sale rototiller died with a rattle, a cough, and a burst of black smog. I knew instantly that it was beyond saving. I had a lawnmower, an Oldsmobile, and a chain-smoking great uncle who checked out the same way.
So there I was, out in the garden, turning the dirt with a shovel, pounding it with a hoe, grooming it with a rake, and reminding myself that in some parts of the world this is how they still plant crops.
(This, in turn, reminded me that in other parts of the world they have water buffalo to pull a plow. That led me to wonder if I could teach my dog Cookie to pull a garden plow. Answer, as I found out: Emphatic no.)
Now, you’ll notice I am speaking exclusively of a vegetable garden. I’m not much for flowers. If I’m going to throw out my back, I want something edible to show for it. Tomatoes. Green peppers. A couple of radishes. I don’t care, just as long as it’s food.
Of course, getting the food from the garden to the table isn’t easy, and I don’t just mean all the physical labor involved. First, you have to contend with the occasional dud, where you follow all the directions precisely, right down to using special fertilizer made of pasteurized Tibetan yak manure, and still the plants turn yellow and die as soon as they reach three inches tall. So much for selling okra to the neighbors.
Which brings us to those who wish to share your bounty. I speak of the local squirrels, who watched me plant seeds and planned their shopping lists accordingly: “Look! He’s planting fennel again! I love that stuff! I think we ate an entire row last year.”
Note: They did, and I was none too happy about it. For one thing, I love fennel. For another, I only planted one row.
So now the long growing season begins. We look at our seedlings, tiny little plants just breaking the surface of the earth, and see cabbages. Where today there’s just a piece of string marking a place in the soil, in fall there will be carrots. Ah, spring indeed. We cast our lot with nature (and the Burpee company) and begin the march toward bounteous autumn with hope in our hearts.
As in I hope the tomatoes don’t wilt. I hope the squirrels don’t eat all the fennel.
And I hope Cookie forgives me by then.
© 2009 Mike Redmond. All Rights Reserved.
Friends, there is a danger hiding in practically every home, office and school. It masquerades as a harmless office supply but in reality, it has the ability to make people mentally unstable, disable a school system, and virtually bring a small town to its knees. It's known as (cue scary music), the post-it note.
May 18, 2012
As a resident of Plainfield and frequent walker on our excellent trail system, I have often wondered what the laws are concerning the marked pedestrian crosswalks throughout town. So I talked to the Plainfield Police Department.
May 18, 2012
Mitt Romney went into the wrong line of work. If only he had been a lecturer in constitutional law, he wouldn't have a business record vulnerable to distortion by a desperate incumbent president.
May 18, 2012
And now, hold on to your hats because it's time for ...
Dentists In The News!
May 15, 2012
Now that the Obama administration has officially sided with corrupting man-wife marriage to also mean two men or two women, it's time for Christians to reflect on what's going on in the culture. To be sure, the measure must pass certain hurdles to be the secular law of the land. And, if the Republican candidate wins come November, there may be a further delay in its implementation. But don't count on it.
May 15, 2012
I'm back from a few shows at the security theater.
I slogged my way through four airports this past month, and played my interactive role in that daily, multi-billion-dollar production brought to us by the federal government with the colossally misleading name of "airline security."
May 14, 2012
President Barack Obama insists that he didn't announce his support for gay marriage out of political considerations. He's right. He did it out of self-regard.
May 14, 2012
Is that smoke? I think I smell something burning. Something is definitely scorched. Did someone just burn a ham or did Patricia Krentcil, a.k.a. "tanning mom" just walk into the room?
May 11, 2012
U.S. Sen. Dick Lugar - vanquished by age, longevity, barrel bottom congressional approval ratings, and an aggressive opponent in Treasurer Richard Mourdock - seemed to be bridging a divided party when he took the stage shortly after 8 p.m. Tuesday as the magnitude of the 61 percent to 39 percent landslide against him registered.
May 11, 2012
The Cleveland Five are a sad-sack collection of wannabe terrorists if there ever was one. The amateurish young men who plotted to destroy a bridge outside Cleveland last week give the impression of needing the attention of a guidance counselor as much as a federal prosecutor.
May 11, 2012
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Would you support a same-sex marriage amendment in Indiana?
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Human remains may be embedded in the mud of the North Atlantic where the New York-bound Titanic came to rest when it sank 100 years ago, a federal official said.
April 16, 2012 3 Photos 3 Stories
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