Life has been worrisome lately, at least in the rhubarb department. Last year, the little bed we planted six springs ago was a wonder to behold. We had waited five years before harvesting more than a few stalks, to let the plants become established. By 2009, they were flourishing, and we harvested a bountiful crop.
But this year, the bed is struggling, even though I have been faithfully caring for my charges. Several times already, I’ve pulled away the promiscuous creepy charlie that wants to crawl into the bed and sleep with anyone it can find. Despite my attention, one rhubarb plant is so small, I don’t dare harvest even one stalk from it.
“Maybe they need fertilizer,” I told Hiram. So a few weeks ago, we bought a bag of manure and carefully followed Mom’s instructions about working it into the ground. I kept meaning to lug the hose out to the patch and water it down, but held out for promised rains which came in fits and starts for several days.
It was enough to make two of the plants perk up, and I harvested enough rhubarb for one pie. In the process, I noticed little orange specks on several lower, outer leaves. Something Mom mentioned during the manure tutorial resonated. “Were they hit with some of the weed killer Hiram used?” she had asked.
Hmmm.
The weekend we spread the manure, Hiram applied weed and feed as part of his Wedding Sanctuary Improvement Program. “Did some of it hit the rhubarb?” I asked after going inside and chopping up my rhubarb.
“I tried to miss it,” Yard Man sheepishly replied.
Sigh.
So I went back out and tried to limit the damage by pulling up all the speckled stalks and saying a prayer over what remained. Since then we’ve had a few more half-hearted showers and one day long deluge of the Noah variety. I spent a good portion of that day peering out the window willing the rhubarb make a flashy comeback, but it didn’t happen. Now, the clouds have cleared, and I’m hoping the sun will work its magic on the rhubarb patch. Strawberry season is almost here, and I’m so hungry for strawberry-rhubarb pie.
Grow little rhubarb patch, grow. Spring won’t be the same without you!
