Every year, come March, myself decides the sidereal workings of the universe are right for gardening. I plow, plant and transplant...no problem.
Come end of August there are decisions to be made that lead to procrastination...a disease I have been a war with since birth. The yearly quandry? When do you destroy the garden.
I first survey the tomatoes. They have been good to us all year. There are little yellow blooms and a mixture of small green and half ripe fruits. Will they make tomatoes before frost? Well, we've canned 90 jars of tomatoes products...they have been good to us. Guess I'll let 'em live a few more weeks and see what happens. No, I need the room for my winter greens. Well, maybe I'll do something else today. OH, look at the sweet potatoes. I need to dig 'em NOW! Well, the tomatoes are in the way, and that bunch of Jeruselum Artichokes my daughter wanted me to plant are in the way, also. Well, I'll have to go to Tim's and get the potato plow. Now, where am I gonna' dry and store them. Decision, decisions...maybe I'll do something else and think about it for a day or two.
Naw, the tomatoes have to go, tomorrow. Think I'll plow and drag the the garlic beds, seeing the rototiller is on the tractor...opps, forgot, lost the bolt off the PTO shaft, have to go the hardware...
And so it goes.