How Does Your Garden Grow?
- Laurie Harmon
- 7 minutes ago
- 4 min read
This year, my husband decided he wanted to up his garden game. We've had gardens before, but last year, we graduated to the class of raised beds. He built four raised bed structures, and our harvest was moderately successful.
We aren't new to the garden-game, however. We both grew up tending gardens (sometimes reluctantly), and we have grown the typical rectangular-shaped, carrots, potatoes, corn, beans...etc. gardens before (with our own children reluctantly working beside us). Now, our children are grown, we are older, and our foray into raised beds ignited a new green passion, especially when aching joints and knees are a factor.
So, with a renewed sense of self-sustainability and visions of fresh produce dancing in his head, my husband's next big project was born.
Admittedly, his other projects were a bit more ambitious, and thus took more time and planning. For example, during the Covid-19 lockdown, he got a wild hair to quadruple the size of our deck and put in a pool (full disclosure, the pool was my idea). That plan presented some unique barriers, though, as lumber was hard to come by during the pandemic. At one point, we actually found a way to get some boards through Facebook Marketplace (my husband's happy place). He searched and found someone who let us pay them to dismantle their deck. We paid them for the privilege of hard labor. In return, we got slightly used, mildly weathered lumber for our toils. If that doesn't say resourceful, I don't know what does.
When my husband has an idea, he will find a way to make it happen.
His resourcefulness is the stuff of legend, and his ability to have an idea, make a plan, and see it through is admirable. His can-do attitude is a bit intimidating, if I'm honest. I, too have ideas, but my visions are on a much smaller scale. For example, I might plan on writing a blog article or creating an Instagram post. With some time, thought, and effort, I'll eventually get there.
My husband, however, announced this winter that he wanted to build and design an elaborate garden and mini orchard in our backyard. Then, as soon as the weather warmed up a smidge, he bought and assembled a small, yet functional greenhouse. Shortly after that, he began mapping out the garden plot with posts, strings, and spray paint.
If he can think it, he can do it, and he wastes no time in implementing his vision.
He also spent a great deal of time researching what he wanted to grow and how he wanted to arrange his many and varied plants. For example, he designed a variety of planting beds. He built many of them, purchased some, and even fashioned a wire arch using "hog wire" for vining plants like cucumbers, zucchini, and squash. He watches hours of YouTube tutorials, including his favorite show "The Veggie Boys"
While I possess neither his skill nor his vision, I'm usually willing to support him in whatever new project or plan he's devising (especially if it involves a pool or something I can enjoy!) For example, I helped to dismantle that gently-used deck years ago in the summer heat. I can jump in when needed (did I mention the pool?!).
Mostly, though, he works solo. Trust me, it's better that way. Helping him on a project usually consists of him pointing at something, aggressively mumbling, "Grab that..." and expecting me to have a detailed understanding of 1) what item he's speaking of; 2) the detailed purpose and plan for item; 3) what, exactly to do next once I've grabbed it. In short-I can't read his mind, and he thinks I should be able to read his mind. It never ends well.
Instead, I'm much better off wandering into his work zone, checking out his progress, then non-committedly asking if there's "anything I can do to help." He knows and I know that my contribution is usually limited to a five-minute time commitment of holding a tape measurer or rolling up a tarp, which I will gladly do (clock-ticking), but as soon as he expects me to do any more, to anticipate his thoughts or plans, or to even perform more than 2-3 tasks, things
deteriorate quickly. If you think me selfish or lazy, you might be partially right, but I also enjoy being married and would like to keep it that way (41 years and counting). Basically, my role in his many projects over the years can best be described as enthusiastic observer/cheerleader.
For his current garden plan, I've cheered, I've held tape measurers, I've even gone garden center shopping and provided helpful if sometimes unsolicited advice on what to plant in his elaborate garden scheme, but much like the animals in the "Little Red Hen story," I have yet to make a substantial contribution to the process. The question, then remains. How much will I participate in the health and growth of Vern's garden? How involved will I be in the harvesting and processing of the crops?
That depends, I suppose. I'm not as enthusiastic as he is about canning pickles, peppers, tomato sauce, and salsa, but I will enjoy the fresh produce (just like like the negligent animals in the "Red Hen" story).
In short, while gardening is not my favorite activity, I do admire the process. I enjoy watching the plants start out small and work their way into the varied greens, golds, oranges, and purples that make up a diverse and vibrant collection of crops. I love the flowers, of course, and honestly, that's where I interject my opinion the most. There must be flowers interspersed in the garden to add color and complexity and beauty. My very special request was sunflowers. I'm excited for the sunflowers.
After the final plantings, my husband's project is shaping up, and the best thing about it is, he's perfectly willing to share the benefits with me even if my main contribution is a little encouragement now and then, a mild suggestion, and, of course, holding that tape measurer.
