Every year, I say I'm done trying to grow vegetables, then I do it again anyway. For various reasons, I like being able to feed myself from my own gardens. I like the process of watching food grow. I like seeing the science and magic come together.
I think people sometimes get the impression that everything in my gardens is perfect and idyllic. I assure you, it is not. (As you can see from the photo below) The south yard, which houses the vegetable garden and the wood shop, and is Hank's primary play space, is generally a disaster area. Once upon a time, I'd have heard the ghosts of parental voices shaming me for the mess and been driven by guilt to keep the space perfect. Fortunately for me, I escaped that fairytale version of life quite some time ago.I do my best, ask for help when I need it, and pay for help when I can afford it if I cannot do something on my own. I move along as I please. Sometimes, projects get started and then have to wait. Last year we planned to finally build a greenhouse and began the work by setting in a foundation. That took a little longer than anticipated, and by the time the foundation was done, material costs had doubled and were beyond my budget. At last check, the costs had tripled due to corporate greed. I would not pay them even if I could. Before the Wheel turns to Autumn, I will figure out an alternative greenhouse plan. In the meanwhile, there is a big hole covered with a tarp, stacked up wood, and cinder blocks to contend with.
My raised bed dreams for the vegetable garden called for those pretty green modular units from a certain manufacturer. It would have cost nearly $1,000 to trade out all the inexpensive food-grade plastic barrels for those nicer containers. My brain and my ego kept arguing, "But I want..." And this was one of those places where people might not realize it can happen, but Love eldered Ego and kept me from spending that money when it was needed more in other places.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with spending good money for things you want or need. Not saying that at all. But for me, in this situation, NOT spending the money was a better decision. Then someone gifted me three galvanized stock tanks that they were no longer using, and my evolving raised bed dreams are happening, just in a slightly different form. I am happy, content, and excited to see how it all turns out. And until I figure out what to do with them, I will have empty plastic containers taking up visual space in the south yard. Yes, of course, I will set them up more neatly than they are in the below image. Maybe Hank needs an obstacle course on his runway.
Over the last couple of days, I got the stock tanks set in place, transferred soil from the plastic containers into the stock tanks, mixed in some good stuff, put in some plant starts, and planted some seeds. That work will continue for at least another week, as there is one more tank to substitute in. I also have some smaller galvanized tubs that I can make use of as well. And next Monday, someone is coming to help Rhodes install a cattle panel arch at the entrance to the veg garden.
Every once in a while, friends, I let my brain slide down the wrong pathways and I get momentarily overwhelmed by the volume of work that must be done. When that happens, I gently reign myself in with the reminder that I can only do one thing at a time, and so there goes my focus until I am ready to move on to the next thing.
We are none of us perfect beings living Instagram perfect lives. Beauty and joy are often accompanied by mess and bother, and this is not only okay, it is normal.
Thank you for sharing my messy, lovely, wonderful, sad, happy, joyful life. I appreciate the company.
Peace out.
