Reminiscing about Planting Southern Vegetable Gardens

I'm still reminiscing all this month here at The Country Belle, writing about family and family activities. I've been gathering (a little) produce from my garden - mostly herbs and a few tomatoes - because our excessively wet weather this summer has our Southern garden saying, "What?! What?!"

I can count on one hand the number of days we have not had any rain this summer. Talk about the opposite of the drought-land I'm so used to in South Carolina in July. And 80 degrees for a high temperature? Unheard of this time of year down South!

I'm not complaining, but my garden kind of is complaining. It makes me remember when I was a child, and we often spent spring and summer nights and weekends planting something in my grandfather's garden, shelling beans until my fingers cracked, snapping green beans until my hands were sore, or shucking corn off the back of the pickup truck (and trying to avoid yucky worms!) until the sun went down.

It makes me remember a story that I still sometimes get laughs about from my family members. I was a Southern country girl growing up in South Carolina but trying to somehow work some sophisticated "girlie" stuff into my life. So often on Saturday night, I would pull out my light blue manicure kit and give myself a full-scale mani-pedi.

I still have that kit after all these years.

I still use it.

Back to the story...I was getting my nails done for Sunday morning church. You know, looking all right.

Well, one weekend I got a little super ambitious and decided to work my manicure into my Saturday morning instead of Saturday evening. And then I found out we were going to the farm. And then I learned I would need to plant potatoes.

In case you don't know about these things, you can take a potato and cut a piece that has an "eye" on it, plant it in a hole in the garden and it will grow a whole new plant with a plethora of potatoes. (How's that for an alliteration?)

My grandfather hoed the holes and cut up the potatoes. So no problems there.

Then I  realized I needed to stick my precious manicured nails into the bucket of wet potatoes, pull them out one by one, and drop them in a hole to be covered.

Do you know how hard it is to do a job like that without getting dirt and other crud under your fingernails? You don't. And I protested. "But it will mess up my manicure!"

I was laughed out of the garden. But then I had to promptly return and do the job.

Rural lesson learned: No manicures on Saturday morning. Wait 'till the chores are done.

Hope you're having a wonderful day wherever you live.

Love,
TCB