My Farm Stories forum: Bare fisted weeding
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|Because of my arthritis and the accompanying Renaud's Syndrome, I have learned to wear gloves when I weed. I have thin nitrile gloves that I generally put on or at leas put in my pocket when I go out to 'look' at the gardens. I have heavy nitrile dipped cotton gloves for working around the roses and just plain cotton gloves for those days when I am not in the mood for sweaty hands.
I have been away from my gardens for a week. We went to Kentucky to visit our youngest and her family over the weekend and I came home to my annual writer's retreat. The combination meant that the gardens had gotten only cursory tending by my helper, mostly watering and picking overripe strawberries and the odd blueberry.
This morning, I had time to go out and dig in, and I failed to take any gloves with me. I was working in the first rock bed where the English and floribunda roses live and I would have been better off with gloves, but I had started and I wasn't going to stop for something as trivial as gloves.
There is a deep sense of connectedness in working in the soil with your bare hands. Digging down into a fertile bed with nothing between you and the dirt gives you a sense that you are a part of this world more than just a creature who walks upon it.
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