I got the garden in yesterday (mostly). Been working on it on and off since Memorial Day weekend--pulling weeds and turning soil, but yesterday was a perfect combination of cool temps, overcast skies, and a nice soaking rain followed by drizzle the rest of the day. Perfect for transplanting sets into the prepared beds. So, first, I had to finish preparing the beds. But it all worked out the way I hoped in the end. Now, we just need everything to root in and start growing.
I'm tempted to dedicate this summer's garden to our dear, late friend, Belle, but I hesitate because my style of gardening is quite a bit different from hers. We both prefer organics, etc., but she had an artist's eye for laying out and planning a garden. I'm a lot more conventional--straight rows, etc. I know we both got similar satisfaction from doing it.'
Anyway, the first shot is what it looked like on Memorial Day--nothing but weeds; good for the compost pile. The other two shots were taken with my phone yesterday--my feet were killing me, all that walking around all day. Patched the fence and activated the electric strands, so hopefully my broccoli will be safe this summer from another big groundhog ("Son of Ratso") that's taken up residence under my (neglected for the time being) wood pile. The thing about Son of Ratso, his whole job--his entire career--is figuring out how to get into my garden. It's what he does for a living. For me, keeping him out is something I do in my spare time. Unfortunately for him, I have superior brain power and resources. That said, I had 24 broccoli plants last summer and never got to eat a bit of it, thanks to Son of Ratso's (deceased) predecessor, Ratso. Ratso loved my garden. He loved it so much, he gave his life for it.