I’m moving a little more slowly than normal this week. Saturday, after a month or so off, I was back in the garden. My friend, the garlic king of our neighborhood, has been spurring all his gardener friends into action by passing out bulbs and reminding us that October is the time to plant garlic.
If you’ve followed my column for a while, you know that I’m and amateur gardeder and that I have a running battle with the gophers in my yard over my garlic crop. Two years ago, I started with twenty plants, and I lost a quarter of them to the little critter. Last year, I think he invited all his relatives to move in with him. I planted fifty bulbs and lost over half of them. This year, Dirk wanted to be sure there would be plenty of the tasty treat for both my cooking needs and for the snacking pleasure of my resident rodents. He gave me a large ice cream bucket full of planting bulbs.
Last weekend, in an effort to help me with my gardening, David fired up the tiller, applied the recommended fertilizer, and prepared the soil. This weekend, I raked out any residual debris, shaped the rows, and planted about half the garlic along with some cold-weather greens. I have room left not only to plant the rest of the garlic but also to try some new things like beets and turnips. I know I’m behind, but the Texas A & M website says it might not be too late. I also know that I may be adding variety to the gopher’s diet rather than to my own table – but I have faith.
The writer of the book of Hebrews says “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” It is faith that keeps us moving toward unseen goals, even when circumstances are less than promising. I guess it’s also faith that keeps me planting garlic – again.