Weeding. Weeding. Weeding. I have been weeding for over a week, and I'm only half done. And by the time I've finished the last row, I'll have to start on the first row again. But that's okay. For the most part I actually love weeding. I just sit right on the ground and dig in. I'm very thorough. My plants deserve the best, and I will not let any weed-bully get too close to my babies. Plus, I get a great tan from being outside. I find it therapeutic to just sit and do the same task over and over again. You don't really have to think.
There are several ways to control weeds in your garden; one is to spray them with chemicals so they die, another is to lay down mulch such as newspapers covered with compost to suffocate the weeds. But I certainly don't want any unnecessary chemicals in my garden. And also, I like to walk in between my plants and sit on the ground in front of them, so mulch just isn't practical either.
That leaves me with one option... pulling weeds the old fashioned way. By the end of the day there's so much dirt under my finger nails they'll never look clean again. The pads of my finger are raw and my hands are cracking from being dried out. I have a solution to this, and don't balk at it, it really works. I like to slather my hands in olive oil and massage it in for 5 minutes. So what if your hands are a tad greasy, they will look much better after a few treatments. Another great option is to use udder cream (cream used to soften and heal animal's nipples after breastfeeding.) or a really thick hand salve such as Burt's Bees Hand Salve. Whatever product you choose, if you take care of your hands, they'll take care of you.
The Gibson family farm has been in our family since 1906. It has been a fully functioning farm the whole time. My Grandfather and Great-Grandfather grew mostly canola and durum, and for the past ten years my father has been raising sheep. Our farm is located in the south-west corner of Saskatchewan. I grew up mostly in the city of Saskatoon, spending my summers out at the farm. You could say I have a bit of farm-kid in me. The farm spans for hundreds of acres around the farmhouse, but the garden is just down a path through the yard. This is where the magic happens...