A few lonely leeks are all that remain in the garden now, post winter and almost spring.
This is the time of year when my husband begins preparing the garden beds for planting. I could call him Gardening Husband, following the example of those who refer to their spouses with names such as Marlboro Man, Chubby Hubby, Hunky Farm Guy, Well Fed Farm Guy, Mr. Fix-It, Beloved Vegetarian Husband and the like. My youngest brother (who's wife refers to him as her Fourth Child) often comments on my husband that, "he's as handy as a pocket on a shirt." Believe me, he is; everything would fall apart around here without him. Actually, it was during a fence building experience that our friendship and budding romance first began -even at sixteen with plans to leave farm life behind me, I couldn't help but be impressed by a guy who could build a really good fence. And rebuild a car engine. And...but I digress. The point being, this is his garden, he is the one that does most of the work of growing our food -and I don't have a clever name for him. I nominally help in the garden by weeding and watering, and exhibiting short and erratic bursts of enthusiasm during the growing season. My planting activity is usually limited to growing a few short rows of turnips.
My husband, the gardening scientist who builds really good fences and can fix anything, is like The Little Red Hen this time of year. He turns the soil, and buys the seeds, and plans and plants our garden. I cheer him on and make occasional requests such as, "Hurrah, Fava Beans! More edamames, please? I don't think we can have too many. And can we grow a few parsnips this year, I love parsnips!?!"
So though I'm not the one doing the work, I am very excited about the start of the garden and the beginning of the gardening season, and I love watching it all taking shape. It may not look like much now, but I know from experience, with lots of hard work and a bit of luck, it will produce a profusion of foods from May through November.