It's Infectious, Until it Gets Too Hard

Neighbor Zack is a pretty great neighbor. He introduced himself right away to us as we moved in, offers all kinds of neighbor help, lets my kids tear through his yard... and even forgives me for the creeping charlie which has dominated my lawn and is poised to challenge his. He has not only tolerated my garden zeal but taken a bit of his own interest as well - he and his kids grow a thing or two in their dappled shade raised beds.

This year he approached me with an offer I couldn't refuse: to let him dig up my backest yard into a cornfield for us to share. Did I refuse? No, in fact I did not; and also did most of the work involved in cultivating, planting, and tending our little corn and pumpkin patch.

poof, now you see it. 

The new garden is doing quite well, despite endless heckling from Neighbor Randy and Neighbor Mark. We have tall stalks and tassles, which are surprisingly beautiful; and what's more, pumpkins on the way. 

ah yes, quite nice.

It pleases me to see less grass and I'm already plotting for the start of my restoration project next spring. Admittedly, though, for every square inch of sod I remove, I get six cubic inches of charlie. And what's more, pumpkin vines look like creeping charlie with elephantitis. It's a bit disturbing.

Glamour Shots

Before I knew anything about gardening - much less ornamental and perennial gardening - a florist I knew arranged flowering forsythia as a table centerpiece at our wedding reception. I couldn't believe I was looking at what was essentially blooming sticks. In those days, my idea of home decor was random groupings of bare sticks throughout the house, so forsythia was an amazement to me. I decided then that I would one day own a home in order to have my very own forsythia planted near the front door.

Well my friends, I've done it. Today I am enjoying a first meager bloom of my wildest dreams.

The Archpriest Jonathan has assured me that the bloom will get better year by year, so I'm resisting the disappointment in this pathetic show.

Sometimes I Call on my Friends, and They Really Come Through

So, this summer I got really tangled up in garden dreams. I knew I wanted a raised bed vegetable garden, and thanks to my husband, my parents, and the very gracious Kayla and Micah, I had that by the end of May. It could have been enough - at least enough for the year, since I had firmly decided to take it slow with the gardening.

It began so innocently: I just read a few books about garden planning (see post below) to help me place my seeds and transplants. They served that purpose, all the while whispering temptations in my ear - create a space! create a vision! transform your oversized lawn into something really special! I started the summer as a gardener, but by July I had inadvertently become a landscaper. oops.

To make a long story short, I decided we needed a patio between the raised beds. As it stood, the lawn between the beds was very difficult and time consuming to mow (directly opposing my goals of less lawn fuss) and looked rather scruffy up against the cedar boards. It wasn't a complete idea... it was a loose scattering of garden beds and not a garden in the high-minded conception of my garden design books.

ratty beginnings

First there was lawn, then the hideous and embarrassing process of solarization - killing the grass with heat through black plastic sheets for six weeks (no pictures of this, too ugly). Meanwhile, Ben took four trips to Forest Lake for craigslist pavers. My hard-working, ever-giving father came out in August to help us excavate - we dug down around the beds 5-6 inches, leaving dull, hard-pack clay walkways and beds on stilts. The garden sat in this phase for another month, thanks in part to The Incident (will I write about this?), and the ugliness continued.

watch your step

Finally, one Friday morning, we decided to just lay the patio on Saturday. Mom and Dad were booked, and they couldn't come help us, so Ben and I decided to man up and do it - have the paver base delivered, rent the tampers, see if a few friends would help us make it happen.

I sent out three emails for help on Friday morning; on Saturday morning, five willing and able bodies showed up at my door.

Farrah "womans" the rock-sled - yes, we are still moving rocks.

"driveway trap"

level, scrutinize, water, tamp, tamp, add more, thanks Holly, Nicole, and the missing Matt L

the (mostly) finished work at dusk 

it's a place now. "Esther's bedroom" to be precise

Esther and Michael are nowhere to be seen in these photos, courtesy of my dear friend Brittany, who was an awesome playmate for them - until she had to go home and "take her nap too."

It's really humbling to have such good and generous friends, who will work hard, sweat, and get sore side-by-side with you because you didn't have any idea what you were getting yourself into.