The Garden Song

Listen while you read: Arlo's version!

Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground

Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
Till the rain comes tumblin' down

Pullin' weeds and pickin' stones
Man is made of dreams and bones
Feel the need to grow my own
'Cause the time is close at hand

Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way in Nature's chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music from the land
. . . 

~  David Mallett

"The Garden Song" has been recorded by several artists, most notably, Pete Seeger and John Denver. I chose a live 1987 performance by Arlo Guthrie for many reasons which will be obvious if you watch the linked video. In true Arlo fashion, he delivers a comedic bit in the middle of the song. He references two serendipitous things . . . a return trip from Canada and a parody of the song called "The Anti-Garden Song," with lyrics by Eric Kilburn.

Well, I was recently in Canada, as you know if you've been following me. You probably also know that Canadians use the metric system, as does every country in the world except the United States. So buying gas in liters or measuring distances in kilometers is a challenge for us, as Arlo points out in his bit. I seem to recall a time many years ago when there was a movement to have us join the rest of the world in using the metric system. It didn't fly. I doubt it ever will. Old habits (as well as arrogance) die hard.

Which brings up the other serendipitous thing. The state of my garden. Despite having a good and generous friend water the beds, it appears that the weeds and the blight have won. It's a wilderness out there. I'm pretty sure I just sweat off the vacation weight that I gained, trying to get a start on the endless weeding. Yes, I was able to harvest a few tomatoes and cucumbers, snowpeas and peppers. But the spinach perished, some apparently bad seeds produced no new lettuces, and my garlic bulbs look rather small. I doubt my underweight eggplants will produce any purple deliciousness, and by the time my green beans arrive, the Japanese beetles will have had their way with the vines. I've given up on the grub moths that put holes in the kale, and if I get half a dozen squash from the few plants that survived the chipmunk feasting, I'll be grateful. In other words, it's disappointing.

When I took up gardening after my husband (the previous gardener) died (almost 15 years ago now), I was passionate about it. Gardening filled up some holes in my life, gave me purpose, rewarded me with a bounty of sustenance. In those early years, I had no problems with blight or critters. Somehow, word got out, and the squirrels and chipmunks and groundhogs and grubs and beetles found themselves a new garden of Eden. It's a full-time job trying to evict them. Squatters.

But those critters are nothing compared to the weeds. And I am coming to the conclusion that I cannot be both a gardener and a traveler. Weeding must be a daily endeavor if one is to stay on top of it. If I have to choose between gardening and traveling, as hard as that is, I choose gardening traveling. I will be mulling over this decision the rest of the summer, and it is quite possible that the first roasted-tomato sauce that I make will have me questioning my resolve. But as I put each bed "to bed" this fall, I will blanket them with some heavy-duty black plastic, one last attempt at killing the weed seeds. Yes, I'm a murderer, one made of dreams and bones.

Before the weeds won.