well sure

When my brother and I visited grandad and Carolyn in Racine in the summer, one of the things we did a lot of was work in the garden. Grandad liked to take advantage of our visits to get as much "stoop work" done as possible. We did weeding, some planting, digging and turning over dirt, spreading fertilizer, watering, harvesting if anything was ready and more weeding. We both favored the digging and turning of earth because anything with a shovel had an element of fun for us. Sometimes we argued about who would get to do the digging, and who would have to do the weeding.
The soil in the garden was dark, rich and fertile. I was surprised when grandad told me that when he first started the garden, the soil was very sandy, almost completely sand. Lake Michigan was just across the road and past another row of houses, and sandy soil was common in areas near the lake. Decades of gardening had added organic matter, fertilizer and compost until the soil had become the gardener's delight it was when we were pulling weeds from it.
Grandad always had a little trough dug from one end of the garden to the other. He would dump any organic kitchen waste in the trough then dig a shovel or two full of dirt from the wall of the trough to cover the organic waste. The next batch of kitchen waste would be placed a little further down the trough, then covered. In this way, the trough would slowly advance along the length of the garden, distributing organic matter throughout. He also liked to burn the paper trash in the corner of the garden, and distribute the ashes judiciously amongst the plants that liked a more alkaline soil.
There were raspberry and blackberry bushes at one end of the garden, and an asparagus patch at the other. He grew peas, lettuce, various greens, beans, corn, herbs, cabbage, green peppers and many other things I cannot remember at the present time. He told me he got some tobacco seeds one time and tried to grow them, but I don't recall whether he had any success.
There were apple and a few other fruit trees in the yard. The apples were usually on the small and bitter side. At some point he got a little cider press for them, so they wouldn't just be enjoyed by the local wildlife.
Grandad really loved working in the garden, and would stay in the garden for hours if not called away by some other obligation. Once when I visited, maybe fifteen years ago, grandad was out in the garden weeding in the morning. I went out to talk to him, and ended up doing some weeding too. I took a break and went back in the house to get my camera. I took a picture of him working in the garden, then Carolyn came out of the kitchen and said, "Come on in, the kringle and coffee is ready."
Kringle is one of the things we always looked forward to when we visited Racine. Danish kringle is a very delicious flaky pastry that's made in a large ring with icing on top. My favorite kind was raspberry. Sometimes during the holidays, grandad and Carolyn would send us some kringle. It was never quite as good when it wasn't fresh, but it was a wonderful rare treat that always reminded us of a visit to Wisconsin. There would usually be two or more kringles, one of which always seemed to be pecan. I didn't like pecan very much, and I think my mother was the only person who really liked it as much as a berry kringle, so we would often argue about portion sizes of the non-pecan kringle to make sure everyone got their fair share.
Grandad finished up in the garden, and we walked across the yard to the house and went into the kitchen. We sat down at the kitchen table and Carolyn put down some slices of kringle on plates and poured us each a cup of coffee. I looked over at grandad and noticed that his hands were caked with dirt from the garden. It had started to dry and flake off, so as he grabbed his slice of kringle and took a bite, little chunks of dried dirt fell off onto his plate, and onto his shirt. He set the kringle down on the plate, which now had more dirt crumbs than kringle crumbs. He picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip, leaving another trail of dirt crumbs on the table and his shirt.
Carolyn had just finished pouring herself a cup of coffee at the counter and putting the coffee pot back in the coffee maker. She picked up her cup of coffee and turned around, and saw grandad taking another bite of his kringle with his dirt caked hands. She seemed a little bit embarrassed and exclaimed, "Dick! Your hands are dirty!"
Grandad paused, looked down at his hands, saw that they were indeed dirty, and said, "Well sure," and continued eating.