

The problem is that a swath of the nastiest clay and gooiest muck I have ever seen runs through the middle of the garden. The highest part of the garden (top photo) seems OK, but the middle third (bottom photo) is better suited for earthenware pottery than plants.
My plan of action now is to watch my vegetables die this summer, and then in the fall take my tractor scoop and remove the top 18-inches of soil. I will replace it with new topsoil.
If I were to calculate the money and time I've spent on my ill-fated garden, I could never eat another home-grown tomato. Every time I get the hoe and start chopping up dirt clods, I get this feeling that the Deerfield wildlife are snickering in the woods. Or it may just be that giant sucking sound of my boot trapped in the muck.
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