By Judy Brandon: Religion columnist
I passed a huge garden near Texico the other day, and it brought back memories of my garden planting experiences. I estimated that the garden was about an acre and the owner had it so manicured and neat that it could appear on the cover of any national magazine.
I think I am a frustrated gardener. I have tried on many occasions to have a garden, and sometimes it has worked out, and sometimes not. One year, Annie, John Scott, Buffy and I tackled planting a garden. The children were all small and I have to admit that sometimes their “help” made things a bit more difficult.
We chose a spot in the backyard. We raked to clear all the winter debris, dug up the ground with a shovel (I dug up the ground with the shovel), used the steel rake to smooth out the area, and watered the ground to make it ready to plant.
Next we bought seed.
The packages of seed were displayed on a revolving steel rack at the store. Annie was a beginning reader, but all three children could tell what seeds were in each package by the pictures on the packages. Green beans, yellow squash, peas, okra, dark green watermelons and nice long orange carrots covered individual seed packages. Photographs of pumpkins looked colossal and cucumbers appeared thick and juicy.
I wasn’t an expert in horticulture, but I knew one thing: If I planted watermelons, watermelons grew instead of cantaloupes.