It's Amazing What You Find When You Clean

When we were kids - and even now, on occasion - and we'd happen upon a long lost item while cleaning, Mom would give us that "I told you so" look and say, "Yeah, it's amazing what you find when you actually clean stuff up."

No, this isn't going to be a post about how I discovered money when I was cleaning my room. (Though the thought of such a possibility, however slight, does make me want to clear out that madhouse.) Despite my ability to lose pretty much anything, I'm a little more careful when it comes to where I put my money. Usually if I've misplaced it, I need only check a limited number of places to find it.

This post is about my garden. Please, try not to get too excited.

My garden has been in serious need of tending for the last couple of weeks. My negligence isn't completely intentional. We've been busy running fireworks tents lately, and I was up there most weekday afternoons. I did manage to keep the garden well-watered most days, and almost drowning it made up for the days I failed to turn on the sprinkler.

Anywho! I'd noticed that the pea plants were starting to droop and asked Mom for some advice. She'd mentioned setting up a lattice (I think that's what it's called) to keep them upright, and said I could just use sticks and string. (Sticks and string have been staples in our garden supplies this year.) So I trooped out to tend to the peas.

I got pretty philosophical observing how the peas all clung to each other and, instead of holding each other up, pulled the whole line down. I had a feeling that could develop into some sort of deep illustration, but after coaxing peas to let go of each other for fifteen minutes, that's as far as my deep musings got.

I noted that the garden seriously needed weeding, but I was a bit tired and sore after stooping over peas, so I left it.

Now we get to the point!

I went out this morning to check on the peas and make some adjustments and starting pulling at weeds scattered around the garden. Along the kennel fence there's been a mass of grasses and weeds that keeps coming back, and I decided it was time I took care of it, because the peppers were being overrun.

I was reaching for a rather large weed when I noticed the leaves. They looked familiar, but not like any weed I'd seen yet. Then I glanced back at the tomatoes and realized I was staring at a tomato plant. I gawked at the leaves for a few minutes just to be sure, and then spotted the little yellow flower. Yup. Tomato.

After I reported my discovery to Mom, I went back out and started working on the weeds around the tomato plant. My efforts uncovered something unexpected. There were not one, not two, not even three, but five tomato plants. (I brought Dad out to confirm this, just to be sure I wasn't being an idiot.)

Along the fence is where our tomatoes were placed last year, and I can only guess that some of the overripe tomatoes I abandoned when we became overrun with produce planted themselves.

The irony is that Dad left five spaces for tomatoes when we were planting everything, with the intention that we would pick up a few more, which we never did. So I finished weeding and transplanted the plants to those empty spaces. Now I'm hoping they're the traditional style of tomato and not more romas.

Speaking of curious garden discoveries, I don't think I mentioned the walnut tree I found while uprooting day lilies last month. I pulled up a curious little plant, thin and straight with a few small leaves and a bulge near the bottom that looked like a walnut. I brought it to Dad for inspection, and he declared it a walnut tree. Of course, he then proceeded to crack open the nut just to be sure, right as I was planning where I'd replant the little thing.

That tree was a result of the girls shucking walnuts on the deck last autumn. One must have rolled off and settled in the hideous mass of lilies.

So that was my adventure for the way! When I came back in to wash dishes, I noticed my arm was hurting and itching, and looked down to see what looked like the beginnings of a rash. I'd noticed the itch earlier but ignored it. Either I scraped against a dangerous weed or the tomatoes were punishing me for moving them. I'd received small rashy scratched before when I've scraped rose thorns, so it might just be a simple skin irritation. I hope.