Forty years of writing-- nearly 75% of those professionally-- has allegedly taught me how to organize and present my thoughts to get my ideas across clearly. But my head is spinning from the excitement that's been going on over here for the past couple of weeks. I promised the source of the excitement I would wait until now to reveal the details, though I've been bursting at the seams during this forced period of patience and silence. Now that I have the green light to do the big reveal, I find myself wanting to touch on about 90 different points including: gardening, bartering, radical homemaking (and the related temporal abundance), not to mention the joy of waking up every morning to find a backyard full of enthusiastic young men busting their asses to make my life better.
|Prior to the amazing new garden, we defined "exciting backyard events" as crashing tree branches.|
Okay, I know, I'll start with the garden. Well, no, wait, better mention the barter first. I was visiting my friend Sarah awhile back, admiring several gorgeous raised beds she'd had installed which were yielding like crazy. I had the good fortune of stopping by when the guys who created this masterpiece-- Zach and Dare of YardFarm-- were also at the house. They specialize in urban gardens. I was lamenting how, despite my love of gardening (or at least my love of the fantasy of gardening), I almost always wind up with a low yield, thanks in part to the brutal summers and my forgetfulness re: watering. Sarah, forever the presenter of great ideas, suggested that YardFarm and I might be able to scratch each other's backs. Maybe they needed help with marketing? Maybe I needed help with gardening? Maybe we could remove money from the equation and do a flat out trade.
|My heroes: Dare (l) and Zach (r) didn't even flinch when they saw what they had to do to transform my shredded yard into a garden paradise.|
|Early on-- boards being stained for the new raised beds.|
Over several visits, Zach got very acquainted with my big, torn up backyard (which was mostly the dogs' domain), and my dreams-- a chicken yard the dogs couldn't get into as they had before (leading to the Texas Chicken Massacre), a real French drain to replace the ridiculous joke of a French drain I'd installed myself that does nothing to keep the west side of my house from flooding, and a garden that might yield enough food that I could start plotting to go off the grid as that is seeming increasingly a good thing to plan for in These Hard and Crazy Times.
Zach drew up CADs, talked me through possible scenarios, and listened to my scheme to win him thousands of new clients with a daily gardening haiku series distributed via Twitter.
|Note the irrigation system which is now all invisible and makes the watering seem like magic.|
|Remember the old joke: What's a farmer plant first in a garden? His foot! Well Rebound says, "Au contraire-- first you plant your derriere!"|
In the end-- well, in the middle I should say because they are coming back to put in a rain garden and privatize my outside claw foot tub, which my son calls the White Trash hot tub-- I wound up with far more than I allowed myself to even dream of at the start of the project. I'd gone into it thinking I'd trade 365 haikus for a few tomato plants and some well-placed hoses. But no. YardFarm has pretty much prepared me in case the Rapture comes and all the grocery stores close due to all the clerks being sucked up into heaven.
|I mean, seriously-- can you believe this? The middle bed is full of greens. Soon the flanking beds will be seeded.|
Can you tell how happy I am? I AM SO HAPPY.
I am happy for other reasons. As I detailed here awhile ago, I really dug the book Radical Homemakers, which is all about how temporal abundance can equal or even trump cash in the bank. Time is money but making money takes time and frankly, the older I get, the less time I'm interested in spending working. Funny thing for a borderline workaholic to say, I know. But I relish when I can work from home, set my own schedule, and take care of some of my own basic needs: knitting garments, using a clothesline instead of a
|Rebound and Dante test out their new play area.|