I made big plans. I worked the compost into the soil. I mulched. I planted seeds in neat rows. And it all seemed to be working out. In late May there was tender, green lettuce.
Then August came and hell broke loose. It seemed that overnight, volunteers overtook every available walking space I had made between the rows. Suddenly, there were a few too many tomato plants. Where did they come from? Must be the compost that I used to enrich the soil. I was far too lenient by allowing (only) two "squash" vines to meander instead of pulling them out and throwing them in the compost pile. I felt bad about ruining perfectly good plants even if I hadn't intended to plant them. Perhaps "hell" isn't exactly the best way to describe a flowering, flourishing garden, is it?
I could make an attempt to clean up the madness. I could pull out the bolted lettuce, get a handle on some the of the weeds that rival my tallest tomato plants. And what I really should do is redo the perennial flower garden that provides a border along the house. That Montauk daisy is out of control. But I don't want to do any of it. I like it when the garden is a bit unruly, doing its own thing, growing and not caring if it fits inside my little make shift fence, or not.
I began to feel better about my lax rules in the garden when I saw that the two monster vines that are now beginning to overtake our entire yard have a few butternut squash growing from each one. At least they are showing me that they are grateful for my generosity of spirit by producing something for me to eat. As for the tomato volunteers, they all have tiny green orbs in clusters of six to eight that promise to turn red anytime in the next week, or so. I can no longer access the bean plants as the monster squash vine has wound itself into a barricade. It's o.k. I think the beans got tired and stopped growing anyway. I've come to realize that it's best to plant the intention then let the garden do the rest. And if that means there will be butternut squash soup, so much the better.
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