Neville’s folks delivered their unused decking material, which is called “Profection,” for those of you who might be interested, and we now have a pretty swanky 4’x4′ frame for a raised bed. Nev spent all yesterday afternoon screwing the thing together, as his drill kept running low on battery power and finding functional outdoor outlets was no easy task.
Here is the finished product, along with me and a cozy but rather confused Freya (“We’re staying outdoors?”). In this shot I’m pondering where I should position the bed for it to receive the most sun exposure. This is on the south wall of the house and there are trees on either side. The farther I can pull the bed out towards the lawn, the more sun it will get. However, last week, in a fit of optimism unbefitting a Yankee, I planted that very strip of soil. Those seeds there might be living on borrowed time. If they could have seen me, they would have read this sentiment in my furrowed brow. An impending sacrifice to Demeter?!
I am incredibly stingy with seeds and seedlings. I plant only a couple more seeds than I intend on bringing to maturity, just barely hedging my germination bet. I do not thin. It makes gardening suspenseful, because harvest is riding on every plant, and it’s so satisfyingly frugal, in a way very much befitting a Yankee. And, in opposition to my complex beliefs regarding human life and empowered decisions, my attitude in gardening is very simply: I believe in a seed’s right to life!
Hence the furrowed brow and pensive fist. In any case, the seeds in the ground have a little while yet to show themselves before I make a final decision: The weather is raw and rainy and probably will be for several days. Only after the clouds clear will I position the bed for good; then I’ll fill it, cover it with black garbage bags, and let the new soil warm in the sun for a couple days.
Are you under there, Demeter? Throw me a bone!