No Beds for Blueberries
On Friday, five blueberry plants arrived from DiMeo Farms. I knew they were coming and had started to prep the bed.
Let me go back one week when I was trying to be prepared for the arrival of the blueberries. Hand tilling for about four hours my husband strolled into the yard to see what my plan was. Tired, but enthusiastic I expressed my vision with broad gestures and detailed the plant locations by digging my heal into the ground leaving an indentation. It was so clear (not really) that I was perplexed by his inquisitive brow. So, I asked, "What are you needing to get the picture?" To which he replied, "I thought we were going to reshape the curve of the bed?" The re-curvature would require sodding an area of about 30ft. by 15ft. After that it would require tilling. Remember: I just spent four hours hand tilling a 8ft by 15ft space of pottery grade clay.
My hand tilled handywork
I took it like a champ (by champion I mean a 5-year-old). Protesting loudly, "I can't reshape and till that in time for the blueberries. Besides, I'm terrible at sodding. That's going to have to be your job, and you don't have time." Taken aback by my escalated tone, "We just have to rent a tiller and a sod cutter." Which also means a truck and a trailer. In my terse child like anger, "Fine! But I need your help." He replied, "Great, We'll do it next weekend.
Discouraged and begrudging, I gathered my tools and returned them to the greenhouse. The next morning he got on a plane and I started my worry vigil (so not worth it). When his flight arrived Thursday evening there were still no blueberries. Friday we spend the day doing our jobs. We both work from home which can be challenging when you have a distracting project like a blueberry bed to prepare. Around lunchtime we received the BLUEBERRIES. OMG! WE HAVE NO BED FOR THEM!!! I don't even have good soil to throw them in pots.
Placing the box inside the door, I said nothing and tried to ignore the panic rising inside me. He's slammed with work and really needs to work through the weekend. In my brain there is a movie playing; I am the main character attempting to rent a truck and trailer (no problem), rent a trailer and sod cutter (no problem), loading these tools on a trailer (no problem, staff will help), till and shape yard (exhausting, but I got this), reloading the trailer (Hell no! the tiller is 400lbs and the sod cutter is 500lbs.)
My mind keeps hitting replay with minor variations munching out the problem. He brings me the box that was sitting on the chair in another room. I thought that would help me concentrate on work, HA. "Hey, you got a package. Are you going to open it?" "It's the blueberries." darkly groans from my lips. His response, "Oh!" We're silent from awhile. He breaks the silence with, "Did you reserve a tiller yet?" "No!", trying not to display my panic I calmly (not at all) explain the movie plot in my brain and start to cry (I really am a 5-year-old). He manages to calm me down; I'm not sure how. We watch an actual movie, kind of stay up late and crawl into bed. As soon as I close my eyes, No Beds for Blueberries, my well scripted biography begins to play again...
To be continued.
