Skip to main content

Doing 60: Planting Garlic

Garlic cloves all in a row—kinda.
The Mama definitely has something-to-plant radar.

This morning, I decided to plant the garlic cloves that were sprouting on the kitchen counter. I always wanted to grow garlic, just for the heck of it. Hmmm, I may have inherited the "mad horticulturist" genes from the Mama. Anyway, I put the chosen garlic in a yogurt container (which was probably the clue to the Mama that something was about to be planted) and put the container out on the back step. I would plant them after I picked some lemons.

The lemon-picking task quickly created the additional task of pruning the branches that were touching the tops of the apple tree. To the Mama's delight, because that meant she'd have something fun to do in the garden.

As I was walking by the Mama at one point of fetching pruning tools, she had this where-is-that-thing-I-wanted? look on her face. I thought it was the empty basket  for the lemons that I was holding, so I gave that to her and continued down the path to the lemon tree.

"Do you want me to plant the garlic?" she called.

I turned and saw her holding the yogurt container, wondering how did she know there was something to be planted in there. I had asked her earlier how deep should garlic be planted, but I never said I was going to plant some. When I was picking lemons, I was figuring whether to plant the cloves in pots or directly in the ground. And if in the ground, where could I do it without getting into the Mama's planting space.

"I want to plant them, " I said, waiting for her to argue that it would be better for her to do it because I don't know what to do.

But, nope. That didn't happen.

Without a hesitation, she said, "You can plant them in the box where the Filipino onions are." Then, she proceeded to show me how to plant them. Just stick the clove into the dirt, butt end down, and be sure not to cover the top.

Wow. A first. She gave me a bit of her prime growing space, without me whining.

So, after I pruned the lemon branches,  helped the Mama clip them into smaller pieces for the green recycle bin, and put away the ladder and pruning tools, I planted the garlic. Darn fun, it was. Loosen the soil, add compost full of worms from the compost bin, stick the babies into the ground, and sprinkle them with two yogurt cartons full of water.

As I admired my planting job, I realized that I'd committed myself to caring for the garlic babies until later this summer when they would give us fruit.  Gulp.

Yes, this is another Doing 60  for me.

Comments

  1. So you are becoming a keeper of the soil. Good. It's fun. I forgot to plant my garlic last fall so I suppose they are all dried up now. I have to do some serious gardening as soon as the ground is free of frost. This house I moved back into hasn't had any yard work performed for years.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's in my blood. :-) Both my parents come from a long line of farmers. I suppose if they had bought a farm when they came to the U.S., the brother and I would still keep the tradition. Or, at least me. I've always liked playing in dirt.

      Delete
  2. Looking ahead to your garlic crop and the tantalizing, sweet smell of the cloves...you can start a to do book now from Mama's garden...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Yeah. it's all fun and games getting them in the ground, then the hard work starts ... just wait 'til they want an iPad, and a car, to go to college!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks for the good cheer. :-)

Popular posts from this blog

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❣️

Little Old Lady, Me. :-)

Every So Often — Snow on Them There Mountains!

Some Things I Like

13 Delightful D's for Me