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add. They wisely moved on, but left behind barren soil where nothing would grow.
By the next year, the strawberries had taken over the entire original garden. I saw a program on square foot gardening and dedded to try that.
Jeff dug again. I laid out string in squares and went out to buy plants. I’d given up on seeds.
My husband had requested lots of hot peppers so I bought 12 plants. Tomatoes were companioned with basil, and for a lark, I got some sorrel. After the planting, I sat back expectantly.
But the strawberries, not content with only the upper garden, began creeping toward the peppers. The fire ants returned and started in on the lavendar (still nothing grew where I had put the boric add).
As the summer grew hot I harvested the hotter peppers, wondering what to do with them (a little goes a long way). Friends and neighbors politely declined them. Finally I threaded them on a string and hung them where they quietly grew moldy. But the basil did well, and I made my own pesto.
By the following year, the strawberries had invaded every corner of the garden. There was no more room for peppers, tomatoes, lettuce or herbs. And the strawberries seemed to get on nicely with the fire ants, who had downed the last of the thyme. (The sorrel, however, held its own).
Finally I bowed to the inevitable. The strawberries do taste good. It takes a while to pick them, but I suppose it’s good exercise.
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