As of this minute, I am caught up with the garden, believe it or not–both enchanted by and up-do-date, I suppose. I don’t need to plant, weed, water, harvest, or process anything today; I’m free to just admire it and feel grateful.

Three beds with beets, onions, potatoes, and peas.

The ornamental lettuce. Can’t have too much lettuce, right? All we can eat plus some to look at and admire.

I myself can’t pick a favorite crop; not so for Mike. He’s ga-ga over the strawberries. He thought growing strawberries here would be difficult, if it was even possible. No idea why he thought that.

It’s only the second year for the bed, but we’ve picked several quarts already and have more coming on. I’ve not clipped any runners, wanting as many new plants as we can get to transplant into new beds next spring.

I’m especially grateful for Mike’s strawberry enthusiasm because it’s motivated him to get in on the dirt-moving act.

While I’ve been harvesting and processing produce, postponing my own dirt-moving, he’s spread the two loads of topsoil for the new strawberry and raspberry beds, and he’s done a way-yonder better job than I would have done: he used a frame to get a uniform depth, measured for the outside paths, and has graphed the layout for the internal paths (we went round and round on the design–literally–you’ll see). Precise and meticulous. It’s going to be lovely–and, we hope, productive.

PS – Still no wheelbarrow!