Introductions

This is my garden, it says hi. If you had told me at graduation that I'd be spending ten hours a week playing in the dirt in my backyard, I would not have believed you.


We moved into this house when I was four years old. My mother did some gardening the first few years we were here, but I only have vague memories of those. There were two plots permanently marked out in our backyard when we moved in. Since the year that raccoons climbed into the backyard and ate mom's corn, there hasn't been any gardening on our property. We have perennials from those early days left on one side: hostas and peonies. And occasionally our neighbor's plants will grow under the fences and make their way into our yard.


Quickly moving through the years, I did not do any yard work growing up beyond helping to bag leaves in the fall. But something got into me last year, and I started harassing my mother ( it is her house) to see if I could do some gardening. She was skeptical that anything would actually happen, considering my track record with great ideas, I can't say I blame her. She told me I could have six or so plants, and only if I could clear out the space for them. 


I think we were both equally surprised when I did clear out the space. And then we were surprised again when those six plants barely filled half of the plot. Excitement began to build for both of us as the summer wore on. I planted herbs, and we used them to cook with. I discovered the joy of eating homegrown food. 


A few years prior to the garden, we took a large beautifully dangerous pine tree out of our back yard. We put nothing in its place. At first nothing grew, there was no room for life under a blanket of pine needles that was a few decades old, I'm sure. Then some volunteers from our neighbor's native garden grew. I was not part of the decision to leave the patch as it was, but when left alone it grew into its own small forest.  


It was in this small forest that I decided to plant my very first rose. I had selected it with great care for its hardiness and low maintenance needs. I cleared out the smallest corner I could of that weed forest, and planted it there. It looked a bit pathetic. Then, Bachman's had a sale, and I fell in love with a hybrid tea, against everyone's recommendations. And the next thing I knew we had four roses planted on the edge of the weed patch.


The gardening season ended quite suddenly here last year with a large snow fall at Thanksgiving. Shortly after that came the regular record and back breaking snow falls, sometimes 30" of snow at a time. There was little time for proper clean up, but it kept the embers of my passion for gardening alight. 


It wasn't even warm yet when my mother started talking about gardening again. This year, we decided, we would grow food. I picked out more herbs to grow, and we found other plants almost as soon as the garden stores were open. As of today I have quite literally enjoyed the fruits of my labor several times: in salads, in sandwiches, and on the grill. 


It was suggested to me that I should write about this gardening experience this year, as an assignment to flex my writing muscles. Perhaps as I go I will talk about some of my other passions and interests. Right now, though, I plan on going to bed thinking about beans.