August 07th, 2012
We have a garden behind our house. My dad used the rototiller on it, and made trenches for watering and rows for planting.
I had planters made of cutoff milkjugs, and my little seedlings were outgrowing them. So I went outside one Saturday to plant them in the gaps of our garden.
After I'd put them safely in the dirt, I looked at the far end of the garden, and saw a sad, drooping row of sunflower seedlings, and pitiful-looking row of onion greens. And then I saw that the trenches my dad had dug were bone-dry at the far end, and I went to investigate.
It would appear my father and brother forgot that water only flows downhill.
Oh, I had fun. It's been years since I got to play in the mud like that! And I had a valid excuse, too. I wanted water to get to my sunflowers and onions, and the pumpkin seedling I'd just planted.
I must have looked like a mudmonster when I went inside. I should have held my arms out and moaned like a zombie. Now THAT would have been priceless.
I had planters made of cutoff milkjugs, and my little seedlings were outgrowing them. So I went outside one Saturday to plant them in the gaps of our garden.
After I'd put them safely in the dirt, I looked at the far end of the garden, and saw a sad, drooping row of sunflower seedlings, and pitiful-looking row of onion greens. And then I saw that the trenches my dad had dug were bone-dry at the far end, and I went to investigate.
It would appear my father and brother forgot that water only flows downhill.
Oh, I had fun. It's been years since I got to play in the mud like that! And I had a valid excuse, too. I wanted water to get to my sunflowers and onions, and the pumpkin seedling I'd just planted.
I must have looked like a mudmonster when I went inside. I should have held my arms out and moaned like a zombie. Now THAT would have been priceless.
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