Gardening is the worst.

I know, I know. I post a lot about how wonderful and beautiful Lancaster Land is in the spring and summer months. And that time ins here, friends! It is beautiful. The things that grow here are delicious in both smell and taste.

I know. 

I make it sound like we hit the sheets at night, and wake up well rested, to birds chirping and things flowering and everything is just oh-so-natural and happens without effort.

I know. 

I think I owe you an apology. I think I've mislead you. I have recently just cleaned the dirt from underneath my fingernails and gotten the grass stains out of my jeans, and now I sit here, in front of the trusty laptop, wanting to gush about how great everything looks and how easy and fun gardening is around here. But, I just can't. I can't lie to you. Not anymore. The truth is, I think it's the worst but I do it anyway. Because the end result is so worth it.


I am not one of those people who find gardening an art. I don't look forward to it. I'm happy when it's done, sure, but I don't want to spend hours in the garden and I've never gotten excited about spending an afternoon pulling weeds. And there are so many weeds. So many. 

So before I show you the "after" - I have got to show you the "before" - because until you can appreciate where you've been, there's no way to move forward and appreciate where you're going. 

First I've got to plug

this fancy thing

It's a wacky contraption that you can use to cut into deep roots and also is a handheld rake for easy pulling out of spindly, sticky weeds. It's the best.

And second, wine. Because gardening, as most things, are more enjoyable when you have something to look forward to after, or even during. And I'm a fan of the rose'/working outside combination. So, cheers.

The garden bed (1 of 2) before we weeded it.

Would you guess these are grapes?

Our home is an ongoing, forever changing, hopefully evolving work in progress. That's what Life at Lancaster Land is all about, though. It's about picking up pieces, reclaiming wood, creating a journey without really knowing our destination. The coming months will bring fruitful apple trees, far too many plums, blackberries and then blackberry jam, blueberries, grapes, and so many vegetables from the garden. But, like most things, it takes an undeniable amount of work to get there. That's the lesson.

We've got to make time for things that we don't look forward to. We've got to sometimes prioritize the work before the play. We've got to weed the garden before we can saute the zucchini. We've got to water the plants, pull the weeds, dig the holes, build the jumps, work on the bikes, and the list goes on and on around here. We've got to do the work, because when we do the work, we enjoy the result a lot more.