How does your garden grow?

Whenever I plant a garden, my faith falters. I don't think it will grow. I'm not a great gardener. I should have paid attention to my dad's gardening, but I didn't. Each time my garden digs in its roots and starts to grow, I am literally astonished. It is a lesson from Alma 32 every time and I am a bit ashamed that I am such an unbeliever "for behold it swelleth, and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow".

Maybe it grows because it is the soil of Clem Johnson, Dave's grandfather. We bought his house four years ago after he died. He was a farmer. The garden plot was left fallow for a while because of Clem's deteriorating health. For the first couple years after we moved in, I didn't do anything with the garden plot and it grew into a jungle. It was an eye sore for sure. Two years ago I told David that for my Mother's Day gift I wanted the plot cleared and tilled. We set out together to cut down the jungle and wade through the thorns. David noticed a garden sprinkler head that was completely concealed by a huge (I mean HUGE) overgrown pyracantha bush. It is one of those terribly thorny bushes. Dave went and got the clippers and started trying to hack at the bush. Then he got more aggressive and got the chain saw and started at it. I noticed that he had become distracted from the actual job at hand.

"Hey Dave. What are you doing?"
"I hate this bush!"
"Dave, leave it alone. We're supposed to be clearing the garden."

I said this because the huge chopped up pieces of the bush were now forming a pile right smack in the middle of the garden plot. I couldn't stop him. He was determined. He didn't care about how asthmatic he was becoming or the hives forming on his arms where the thorns had scraped him. He cut the whole bush down and it all ended up in a huge formidable pile on the garden. I admit that I did like the view of the neighborhood much better without that bush there and the sprinkler was now free and clear...but I also knew that David had very limited time to spend on jobs like this because of his work schedule so I was getting a little worried. I could see my tomatoes and squashes vanishing before my eyes.

"Dave, I want this bush gone in a week."

Well, that didn't happen. Every Sunday when we walked to church we'd pass by the side of the house and see the bush. I'd remind David that it needed to go. He'd tell me to leave him alone. It kind of became a joke between us, but I was actually serious. A whole year passed. Did you read that? A whole year. Mother's Day was coming again. I had been very patient. This time I was determined more than ever to have my garden. David knew that he could make me wait a year, but I'd go ballistic if it became a year and a day. He took care of the bush (which actually had very rich soil underneath from all the leaves composting) and tilled the earth. We started putting seeds in Clem Johnson's soil. If any of you need some cucumbers, tomatoes, beets, or squash then come on by. I am amazed by how this garden grows.