Making our beds

In case you haven’t heard, I’m the birdshit-tomato girl.

Last year I read a book on Square Foot Gardening. Great book, good reference information.

I bought containers, mixed my peat and vermiculite and compost, planted my tomatoes and basil. And watered. And fertilized. And waited.

A bird ate a tomato and shit the seed into the ground while flying over our yard. It landed under some ivy and trees and took root.

We got more tomatoes off of the birdshit tomato plant than all of my plants combined. I was irritated and decided I couldn’t garden. So I had no plans to plant this year.

Until George decreed that he would take over. Fine. I’ll weed and water and turn the compost pile and pluck rocks, but I’m not making any decisions that would inhibit the growth of plants.

We decided to do raised beds. So after clearing out a few (OK, eight) trees, hundreds of pounds of English ivy, brush and brambles, we cleared a spot for our garden.

George tilled

Then we raked and shoveled raised beds

And Stella tried to eat rocks

I screened some compost… which looks phenomenal, if I may say so.

So now we widen the beds a bit, put up the fencing and plant. Tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, beans, zucchini, and maybe some red peppers. And basil and parsley and a few wildflowers and flowering perennials to encourage bees and butterflies.

I’m looking forward to it. As long as the birds don’t try to show me up again.

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