Ready, Fire, Aim
A little over a year ago, I decided to rip up a 20’x20′ section of lush zoysia sod and install a modest raised bed plot where I might grow a vegetable or two.
Ha.
We live in Northwest Georgia in a downtown “National Register Historic District” neighborhood surrounded by encroaching commercial and office zones. Our crooked little home was constructed on our 65 ft wide lot in 1869 or 1870 by the deacons of the Presbyterian church.
We’d been in this home since the autumn of 1987 and in most years since I had declared that this year would be “the year of the yard” at some point between winter and spring. Higher priority projects always bumped any hope of yard progress into the future so I spent the last 20 odd years teaching myself the “trades” useful to bring a 100+ year old house up to my lovely spouse’s code . Participation in the lives of my two wonderful children also managed to keep yard projects at bay (other than building playhouses and jungle jims and the like…) I suppose I could have hired out some services along the way and paid professionals to transform my yard, but as my spouse says, I have the rarely endearing quality of thinking I can do way to much myself (and frankly I’m too cheap.)
Little did I know that “The year of yard” was upon me in late May 2009 when I rented the sod cutter…..
Disclaimer: For anyone who reads any of the subsequent posts in this blog:
I do things my way even if different from the “right” way.
I prepare to learn by studying then actually learn by “doing and screwing” aka “hands on”, “learning by my mistakes”, “the school of hard knocks”, etc etc etc
Should my mother ever find this blog she will probably be appalled by my spelling and grammar.
Through the back window on May 24, 2009
Same, June 6, about 20 minutes ago:
Behind cohutt's fence 