When I was growing up, my dad always had Good Friday as a holiday. It was the day he traditionally planted his garden. He always said that was the tradition that planting season started on Good Friday. I don’t know if anyone else has that tradition, and my father doesn’t keep that tradition anymore.
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Good Friday & Planting Season
Despite being raised in Upstate NY, Easter week was always the unofficial start to planting. Although the ground was still cold and the possibility of more snow was high, my parents began their container gardens. The seeds and bulbs arrived by mail. The Michigan Bulb Co. and farmer’s market were predictable suppliers.
My role in all this was punching holes in the bottom of old, metal coffee cans, and then adding a small amount of crushed stones, compost and plant food spikes. Like a Henry Ford Assembly line, my sister, parents and I filled the cans. My elder brother watered and label everything.
The cans would then be taken into the enclosed back porch, and set on window ledges.
This routine went on without fail until my siblings and I went off to college.
With the cost of all the seeds, fertilizer, bulbs and supplies, it would have probably been cheaper to buy the plants from a nursery. My parents and neighbors were all Depression Era folks. There was something spiritual about being frugal and working in the garden. These days, I have neither the energy nor motivation to do gardening. Yes, I hire a seasonal contractor to tend to the yard; even installed automatic sprinklers.
Considering that the dates of Good Friday and Easter can vary by a month from year to year, it would seem thatalways beginning then would mean that some planting could be done too early or too late for best results. But apparently the crops were never, or very rarely, ruined.
When I was a boy in the 40's and 50's whe had a small vegetable garden. As I recall, Dad did most of the work, although Mom also helped. I supp0ose it was a carryover from the victory gardens people had during WWII. I might occasionally have been given a small task, like planting carrot or bean seeds, or even weeding, but I never came to a point of enjoying gardening. The good part was being able to pull up carrots, rinse the with the garden hose, and eat them right there.
Later, Mom loved to plant flowers and tend them. I never became a gardener.
¿Qué hay que hacer para que en una maceta crezca un hombre como el de la foto?
Ángel
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