REAPING WHAT YOU SOW

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In two short months, I will be living off the land.

That is, of course, assuming the little plastic tabs that came with an assortment of vegetable plants I just purchased are correct.

I decided to plant a vegetable garden because there is a section of my yard that is, essentially, a combination clay and gravel pit. Nothing can grow in this corner of the yard. Kudzu would die off in this section of the yard. My dogs are even afraid to go to this part of the yard.

Then it hit me – I could make a raised bed, creating both a vegetable garden AND an excuse to use power tools! I smell win-win, baby!

My first step in building my raised vegetable garden was to secure lawn timbers as a border. This was an exciting part because I got to use (a) a circular saw and (b) a drill. Basically, there was a chance I could either lose a finger or drill through my forehead, so this had definite potential for excitement.

I also found a new and exciting way to cause permanent brain damage while affixing the timbers. I was driving spikes through the timbers and into the ground, in case I wanted later to make a railroad, I guess. Anyway, as I was pounding one of the spikes in, I reared the hammer back and, in a flash, saw the heavy metal part that you actually hammer with go flying off of the handle, missing my head by about a billionth of an inch. The head (of the hammer, not Mike) landed about 10 feet behind me, leading me to surmise that, had it hit my square in my noggin, I would have had some serious Gary Busey-style medical treatment coming my way.

The hammer incident was actually a good thing, though, because it meant I had to go to a home improvement store and spend about six hours shopping for hammers. I actually found one that had a skull and cross bones on it. This hammer clearly said you mean hammering business. Ultimately, I opted for a run-of-the-mill hammer, because, let’s face it, it’s not like I’m settling the west or anything. I’d say about 98% of my hammering falls into the "hanging pictures" category, with the rest falling into the "Look, you can make sparks on the concrete!" category.

Anyway, back to the garden. Once I had constructed the border, it was time to outsmart the clay and gravel by piling about six inches of soil within the timbers. It was at this stage that I found a very important life lesson – dirt ain’t cheap. I went to the store and began shopping for dirt, which I thought would be a pretty easy thing. I thought I would pick up a bag marked "dirt" and be done with it. Turns out, the dirt people spend a lot of effort making their dirt into superdirt. They add all kinds of stuff to dirt. You have the options of top soil, potting soil, organic super soil. And then there are the things you can add to your soil. You can add all kinds of stuff to your dirt, from regular old fertilizer to regular old fertilizer that was once a cow patty. You can even buy dried blood to put in your dirt. Seriously, they sell big ol’ bags of dried blood. I don’t know about you, but I can safely say that I never want to eat vegetables grown in dried blood. And if you farmers out there are using dried blood, keep that secret to yourself.

Eventually, I decided that I would apply all of my gardening knowledge and purchase the bag that had the most dirt for the cheapest price. That way, I figured, if the garden failed, I would always have a fallback. "Well," I’d say, "guess it was the dirt. Not enough dried blood."

Having completed my dirt shopping, I moseyed over to the vegetable section. It turns out that there are roughly 36 billion kinds of vegetable plants, of which I have heard of four. I opted for peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes, and watermelons. I know that watermelons are not vegetables and that tomatoes are in the mythical fruitable category, but they are all going in the vegetable garden, because I could not in good conscience say that I was going to work in my fruit garden.

After pouring all of the dirt into my newly formed timber container, I planted all of the little seedlings. I planted them in nice rows, and even put the little plastic tabs that tell you what they are at the front of each row. I have a feeling these will be quite useful when I tell people, "And in this row is where the peppers would have grown, had I used more dried blood."

So now we play the waiting game. I will tend to my garden daily, watering and nurturing my plants, and trying to have a rational conversation with my dogs on why I would prefer them not to dig up the entire garden. If all goes well, I should have delicious vegetables (OK, and fruit) by the middle of summer. Hey, for once in my life, I can literally reap what I sow! If they don’t produce for me, however, all will not be lost. I have learned a valuable lesson while planting my garden. I have learned to duck when I hammer.