I am one of the approximately 1 zillion people trying their hands at raised-bed gardening.
I happen to know it’s that many because when you google (or bing or duckduckgo) “raised bed gardens” you get a hillion-jillion links to articles and videos, and this, of course, is the best indicator of what’s going on at any given moment.
We have a fairly sizable back yard, so we cleared out a patch of it and brought in various small containers and filled them with dirt.
And by we, I mean my husband. Because all this raking and clearing and hauling bags of dirt is hard work, and my job is writing about it.
(No, seriously, he’s much better at this whole “growing things” than I am.)
A few weeks ago, we did a day trip out to Mepkin Abbey for their plant sale and purchased some seedlings. Those monks really know what they’re doing when it comes to agriculture, and I like the idea of getting plants that have been prayed over.
We brought them home and popped them into the dirt. And now we wait – and mosey our way through the garden every day to see if anything is happening. (It is! Tomatoes are happening!)
When I thought about writing this blog post, I wondered whether I should do a tutorial or a photo spread or a short play.
And then I pulled on my background in journalism and considered how I would approach it if I were doing this article about someone else. In other words, what points would I want to go over, what insights would I want to reveal, what questions would I ask?
Here, then, is my interview with me on this topic:
Q: Why did I decide to do this garden?
A: Well, why not? Raised-bed gardening is all the rage, and plus I have this vision of me popping out to the garden and gathering all kinds of veggies for lunch.
Q: The plants might not all be ready at the same time.
A: Please don’t destroy my dreams.
Q: But why get into gardening now? It’s not as if I have lots of spare time on my hands. I already have a full plate, including a blog to keep up with.
A: Look, me, stop trying to make me feel guilty. I want home-grown veggies is all.
Q: What experience do I have?
A: Pretty much none. In fact, most plants that come under my care die an early death.
Q: What do I hope to gain from it?
A: A vast storehouse of tomatoes. Also cucumbers, squash, zucchini, and … um … what else did I plant? Lots of veggies.
Q: What is the actual return on investment (ROI)?
A: Okay, yes, we spent a lot on dirt and containers and plants to the tune of … let’s just say the tomatoes are going to be worth about $20 each. So what? I don’t like this line of questioning.
Q: What if it fails?
A: What if it doesn’t?
Q: Answer the question.
A: Fine. If it fails, I’ll have a cleared-out patch where I can build a labyrinth.
Q: Which will mean more money.
A: You’re judgmental for a former journalist, aren’t you?
p.s. This is all in fun. I do enjoy gardening very much. And, as I mentioned in last week’s Haiku to You Too, it truly is Holy ground.