We started our garden in late April. A large rectangle was mapped out in the backyard just behind the garage. It is a mostly sunny site with a few shady spots for salad greens. We’ve gone to a handful of stores picking up plants and seeds excited by the possibilities of each choice, carrots and potatoes to roast and fresh herbs to roast them with, crisp salad greens. “We can have a salad with every meal!” Every night I dream of plants shooting up taller than the house but every morning I find the plants, still newly planted, growing slowly as new plants do.
Before the seeds and the young plants could go in the ground the dirt had to be turned. Our neighbor did all the major work with a rototiller in exchange for a homemade apple pie. The next day the large clumps of grass had to be racked out. I’d forgotten just how much hard work, hard work can be. It was hot and dirty. My hands now have blisters that will soon become callused. I looked over the plot and could see all the work that had been done by the soil raked into neat rows and the large pile of grass clumps stacked up against the fence.
Once neighbors and family had been told about the plan for the garden gifts of plants began arriving with each visit, dug up from their own gardens. Oregano and thyme from a neighbor and a big bag full of garlic from my grandmother. We added these plants next to the onions and herbs bought from the store.
Next on the list is a small wire fence to keep out the rabbits, an animal not too familiar with sharing. Instead of eating just one or two leaves they eat the whole plant leaving none for the farmer.
