This morning, instead of going to the gym, I went back to our old house and dug in the dirt. As a part of our remodel, almost the whole back yard will be redone, so we had much of our existing landscape removed in preparation. That leaves a lot of space for leaves. Tobacco leaves, to be precise.
The soil is trash. Despite my offers to pay the previous gardener handsomely for getting rid of the clay, which he agreed to do, he just dug holes in the clay big enough for the plants he was planting. They did poorly and years of putting decorative bark on top of the soil didn't help much. If I recall correctly, bark leaches some nutrient out of the soil as it starts to decay.
So that left me with 24 tobacco plants to put into the ground and soil that was unfit for purpose. It turns out that neither crops nor livestock nor babies know what time it is. If it's light enough to see, it's light enough to farm. At 0600, I was there, turning over the soil and putting the clay in an ugly pile off to the side.
|We've been gardening enough back here over the years to have amended the soil to some extent. Turning it over wasn't hard, but it really needs some help in the form of topsoil and fertilizers.|
The tobacco plants have been doing great and are eager to be transplanted.
|I'll move these into the dirt tomorrow morning.|
On a sad note, it looks like all of our watermelon plants are only going to deliver five melons. The rest were shoved into tight places or planted in lousy dirt and while they grew, they haven't delivered up any fruit. Oh well. Five melons should be enough for a couple bottles of wine.