On Mondays, we destroy the front yard.

Our move worked out (barely) and we transitioned from a shared three-bedroom apartment to a three bedroom home in the “country” (in a rural part of town just outside Austin), sans roommates.

Siobhan is over the moon — primarily because, at our new place, she can now see the moon, and all the stars she couldn’t in the suburbs — and loves the full acre of grass-and-tree-covered property. She gets to run around and yell at the top of her lungs, throw toys outside, swing by the tree out front, and — best of all — have a garden.

We don’t have our own tools yet (being broke has its downsides), but we have dirt, seeds, water, a watering can, buckets, and a trowel. We’re making it work.

The previous tenants had dug two long ditches in the front yard and one in the back, filling them with dead logs and branches. Apparently this is called “hoobaculture” (Spelling?… I’m too lazy at the moment to look it up.) They were left uncovered and are generally dangerous in the dark. In honor of today being President’s Day, I have spent the last three hours engaged in the wholly American endeavor of demolishing the landscape and making it my own. I’ve spent most of the time ripping up the unwanted turf growing on the mounds on either side of the ditch and repurposing the dirt.

We have a peach tree and a pear tree on property already. In the week since moving in, Siobhan and I have also planted yellow onions, broccoli, bell peppers, tomatoes, and an aloe plant. The big ditch in the front, when filled in, will be sown with red, purple, and golden potatoes. The leftover mound next to it will have cantaloupes. The smaller ditch will probably have carrots and long white onions. In the back I’m going to plant more melons and root vegetables. In the front corner we’re going to put an herb garden (complete with tea plants), and next to that some more vegetable patches.



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