My Mom wouldn't let me mess with the vegetables or flowers. I assumed that she thought I would damage them, but now I suspect that gardening helped keep her sane.
I got to mow, rake, turn the garden soil in spring, and add leaves and turn the soil in fall.
When I grew up a little, I started a compost heap instead of burning . But it didn't break down much for a few years. It was mostly pine needles and I never turned or watered it or added "greens". (I knew that the lawn soil badly needed any help it could get, so I left the lawn clippings on the lawn whenever I could).
Then, one year, I got the idea of watering, turning, providing some N and even countering the acidity with lime. Whumpf! A big, tall pile rapidly collapsed into a few wheelbarrows of compost.
