Asparagus Prison

A couple months ago, the boys "scratched the earth" to get our soil ready for spring planting. Today, I clawed at the earth on my hands and knees as I prepared an asparagus trench.

Agricultural cliches have taken on a new meaning. I'm pretty sure the term "putting down roots" was coined by someone who had recently planted an asparagus bed. Once planted an asparagus bed will provide for 15-20 years without any additional planting. Once planted. In fact, you can't even really eat the asparagus for about two years. You have to let it get it's proliferation on.


The initial start up of an asparagus bed requires that you purchase "bare roots" from either a nursery or a catalog.



Those spidery creepers are the bare roots.

On a dreary January day I ordered my roots out of a catalog from a nursery in New York state. As promised to me in January, the asparagus arrived in March. They were delivered by mail in a tubular brown paper sack on a Monday afternoon, at the start of a busy work week. We were not ready. To plant your asparagus roots you need to dig a 1 square foot trench for each plant. It is also wise to prep your heavy, red Tennessee clay soil with manure and fertilizer. If you greedily order 100 roots in January, you have committed your March self to at least 100 foot of trench digging and soil preparation.

Unable to plant our roots on the day the arrived, we set them up like a pet in the spare room in a cardboard box. We misted them twice daily and I draped my PJ pants over the box to encourage a dark, damp environment.



A sense of urgency loomed over the house. The nursery told us we had three weeks but we wanted them in the ground stat. Following two long days of working and commuting, Joseph came home and tilled and refilled the future bed with composted manure. I was working 12 hour shifts those days so it would be my job on Thursday to dig the trenches.Thursday eve was upon me and rain was forecasted. Riding an "the asparagus trench must be dug" high I proclaimed that the trench would be dug rain or shine. I estimated that I would have that trench all set in an hour. Then I'd finish prepping the soil and pop the spidery looking suckers in. Then, I'd exercise, clean the house, go to the grocery store and welcome my in laws in from the Northeast.

Thursday morning, I greeted the trench to be with the sun. Sunrises never cease to amaze me here, or anywhere. The rain appeared distant.



My optimistic deadline waned within moments of actual trench digging, fortunately my enthusiasm for the task expanded with the challenge. I've watched movies featuring a trench digging chain gang and been slightly jealous. While I'm sure wearing shackles and being a prisoner sucks, exercising outside is one of my favorite pastimes. " Jealous of the chain gang"?? I taunted myself, "here's your chance to shine". I learned a lot about hard core digging and quickly.



When exhausted you can lay on your belly and create leverage for your shovel on your newly aquired trench dirt. Essentially, it's digging while laying down. I've never seen the chain gang doing that, but I'm sure they do it outside the movies. When that becomes to exhausting, you can loosen the dirt/clay with your showel, again lay on your belly over the trench and dig the dirt out with your paws like a little animal. I rotated through these three approaches. I got 40 planted on my first day. My one hour task took three days of digging.





On the second day of digging it did rain and I really began to feel like a manual laborer. But, I placated myself with the knowledge that I wouldn't be lugging buckets of water to the scene to water the plants. Plus, still a glutton for ridiculous circumstances, I was having fun. That day I covered myself head to toe in mud, and eventually manure. Playing in the mud is still fun at age 29. In fact, I couldn't figure out why it took me so long to figure this out. After a full wash cycle my clothes still came out with a pink hue from the soil.




That night, we went to neighbors' house for a bonfire and beers and I found myself wanting to talk about my trench. I felt like a proud trench mama.

On the third day of digging, with all the asparagus dug, I reflected on the experience with our neighbor. "Would you do it all again?", he asked. My answer was yes. Once planted, an asparagus bed can last 15-20 years. So there would be no digging next year. While that thought had helped to fuel my digging frenzy it now produced a little twinge of regret. Playing in the mud may have to become part of my routine.

Knowing that I wouldn't be able to eat asparagus I didn't think I'd even see any spears this year. So when only a couple days after planting, I saw things poking out of the ground, I covered them thinking I hadn't provided enough manure. The next day, it was unmistakable. An asparagus stalk poked proudly out of the ground.



I brought the information to Mike who confirmed that this was expected. By summer's end I'd have a roaring asparagus bed. Just not one I should be eating.