Muck Gardening

Muck-that’s right, I said it. MUCK! That's the best word to describe what the lower 40 of my yard/garden is right now. It is raining AGAIN. Never, in all my years of gardening in the South, would I have ever even dreamed of dreading to see rain in the forecast toward the end of July. Usually the ground is cracking about now. Makes my head hurt from just the mere twisting of my thought process to incorporate NOT wanting to see rain in July-almost August actually. But yes, it is true. I was saddened to open the back door to let my dogs out for their evening “constitutional” shall I say, and see rainfall.

I am not one who doesn't like rain. In fact, it makes me happy. I love rain. Not just because it makes my life easier by being able to skip dragging heavy hoses all over the place in 90 degree summer days, and feeling guilty I am using up my well water. I do love what rainfall does to my flowers, plants, vegetables and grass. Everything grows and greens up beautifully after a good rain. A water hose just can’t do what nature can.

I also love rain for the smell of it, the feel of it. It is never a dismal day to me. I like to walk in the rain when others run from it. I ponder over how people stand at storefront exits waiting until it lets up before they feel they can make it 30 feet to their car in the parking lot. Huddling together at the exit, they strike up the standard, “I shoulda brought my umbrella, it’s really coming down” conversation starters. OK, I don’t fault the over 65 crowd. They should wait for a let-up. Don’t want an elderly person slipping in a puddle and falling in the parking lot and breaking a hip. AARP, settle down. But I could run out there and do a Gene Kelly dance and my best “Singin' in the Rain” impression and be delighted with myself-that is if I could sing, or dance as if no one is watching. Sadly I cannot.

But I CAN be out in the garden hearing thunder’s low growl in the distance, ignore the warnings, and remain steadfast in my pursuit of ridding my garden of just a few more weeds. As I begin to hear the rain hitting the tree line as it approaches, I await with anticipation for those first big fat cool drops to hit my back as I am bent over a stubborn dandelion root. (When I hear a loud crack of thunder, however, I do pick up the pace to retreat indoors, I am not that careless.)

So, with my affinity for rain and all it gives, one would assume I would be happy with this inordinate amount of rain. However it has been raining so much it feels like soon they will be measuring cumulatively in feet, and not inches of rainfall. It befits the, “too much of a good thing…” adage. Consequently, it has turned my garden into the aforementioned MUCK. Yucky muck. I have never seen anything like it.  I used to do rain dances in the summer. I now sing, “Rain rain, go away…” from my childhood. Sometimes the rain dances worked.

 I gave up planting seeds after three sets were washed away by deluges. My straight row of basil seeds washed into forming a little clump. Our rocky base under our amended soil doesn't perk like normal soil, so we have puddles. Literally puddles are all through the yard and garden. I wear my galoshes and my feet get swallowed up and stuck. My zinnias and cucumbers are getting powdery mildew, my tomatoes are drowning, my corn has fallen over, (and became deer food), and my artichoke plants are turning black. I dug holes here and there by some plants to wick away the water and with a strike of my shovel, water poured out of the soil and I have a series of mini ponds. In desperation, I left weeds to grow so they could help soak up some of the water. I added shredded newspaper to my mini ponds and added dirt back into them.  We have gotten our tractor stuck in the mud. Rain, rain, go away for just a week, please!

Mosquitoes love this, I am certain. I know because I have seen them dancing around me like joyous garden fairies. They love me, and I don’t fit the categories of what mosquitoes are drawn to. Though why would they look elsewhere for a tastier meal when I am available daily for them to feast upon if I forget to take my mosquito fan? If you don’t have ice cream, might you settle for yogurt if it’s right there in the fridge?

I read mosquitoes can breed in a tablespoon of standing water. So if anyone has a great tip on an organic way to stop my “muck” from turning into a breeding ground for them, please let me know! Something I could add to the puddles perhaps? Lemon balm, eye of newt…I need something. Otherwise, the term “muck” might change by a letter, and I am not one to utter such things.