There’s a tiny little corner in the backyard that we’ve put to good use. Last fall I cut out an overgrown bush and the poison ivy growing around it. We discussed what to do with that section of yard several times. Flowers? Grass? A garden?
My role was digging up and hoeing the earth so it was plantable. (It’s really too small to bother with a tiller.) My wife did the planting and my daughters fertilized and watered it. Since then, we’ve kept it watered and mostly weed free.
A couple nights this week, I’ve used vegetables from our garden to fix dinner…a tomato in the pasta and a grilled squash with pork chops. That’s been fun, but my wife and I have both agreed that we’re glad there is a farmer’s market close by so we don’t have to rely on our little plot to feed ourselves.
Another lesson learned in childhood I suppose. We had a garden for many years growing up. My mom could tell me, I’m sure, but I expect I had to be coerced to go work in the garden; planting and weeding and then pulling up potatoes and carrots and picking squash and tomatoes. This whole experience has made me wonder if our lack of “connection” with the earth has made many of us take it for granted. Many of us don’t get our hands dirty anymore so we don’t know what joy it can bring us.
