The big garden: only a small space remains in need of seeds.

The central area hosts onions, garlic, popcorn, cabbages, carrots, collards, and green chile. That is rhubarb keeping the quack grass and creeping Charlie at bay.

The east side raised garden sports lettuce, radishes, peas and green beans.

The north side raised garden sprouts radishes, beets, bok choi, watermelon, leeks, eggplant, and cucumbers.

Michael weeded the potatoes, which do not yet show signs of pest depredation.

My iris begin to bloom. We adopted these as they escaped the fence in a St. Paul cemetery, lo these 25 years ago. Irene would be so pleased with how the Bridal Veil spirea has recovered from the transplant trauma it suffered 10 years ago. Better to move it than to have construction trucks run it over.

The tomatoes wait for Michael to finish digging a space for them in our latest duck straw garden. Maybe by Tuesday they will be in the ground. Then he will tackle the squash garden. My knees prevent me from assisting in space creation.

The broilers eat and drink and poop and grow. We shoo them outside everyday so they have a chance to graze on grass and worms and lay about like Miss Piggy at the beach.

My energy ebbs in the smoke of Canadian wildfires. Or perhaps I’m tired because I’ve spent the day in the gardens. My activity tracker says I’ve done a week’s worth of moderate to intense exercise today. Michael has done more!

Tomorrow we travel to see these sweet peas. Our gardens, and all these small beings, flourish with care, attention, and space of their own. Yes. This is work. And so much fun!