Sometimes, life is just not fair. Back in March, I prepared the vegetable
gardens the best ever. The ground thawed. I got any leftover weeds pulled.
I mixed a bale of sphagnum peat moss into each section of Colorado clay.
The seeds and onion starts were on order from Burpee. Everything was
perfect. I just needed the seeds and sets to arrive before we headed out on
our first extended audit trip so I could get everything in the ground.
Then reality struck. Judy. She pointed out that even if I got everything
planted before we left, we wouldn't be there to water and tend the gardens.
It wouldn't be much of a garden if no one were there to take care of it.
And if it did happen to grow, we were going to continue to travel so much
this summer, we wouldn't be there to eat it.
So no vegetable gardens. Not this year. No garden fresh corn. No tomatoes
right off the vine. No green beans. No onions. But that's okay. It's a
trade-off. That's not the unfair part. The unfair part happened two months
later. We came back from our trip. It rained in Denver almost every day we
were gone. That was unfair. We came home to a bumper crop. Of weeds.
Chest high weeds in the garden. Canadian thistle, milkweed, bindweed,
pigweed, crabgrass, all prepared to burst into glorious bloom and send their
seed forth. We won't harvest a single vegetable, but I still have to weed
the gardens. It's just not fair.
We left to snowdrifts in July. We weeded the garden, kissed the grandkids,
and drove up across the Continental Divide. Almost the middle of July,
Copper Mountain still has snowdrifts on the slopes. Good to see. It has
been a good wet year. We could see Dillon Lake was full as we drove past.
We haven't seen that lately.
