How it all began
Well, not quite. This year anyway. We moved into our new home on February 7th and I dare say, not a moment too soon. Of course, being that we found the house in the middle of a snowy Minnesota winter, we may have neglected to take careful note of the slope of the backyard. We did find the existence of a shed in the back to be rather fortunate as we could now refer to ourselves as Tom and Barbara "Two Sheds" Good. No plans as yet to acquire a second shed. We just have the one.
So this particular February 7th occurred in the year of our lord of the manor, 2020 and if you know your history, a pandemic was about to lock us all firmly in place. We were happy to be out of our cramped rental with its teen parties coming through balsa wood walls anyway.There will be a tale of the townhome back forty that Tom will share later- a warm hearted story of the wrong kind of gardening. Which isn't really a thing- any gardening is good gardening. Even if it is only practice for the next time.
Back to what I was saying. We moved in at the start of the pandemic and there was some worry over our new reality. The sacrifice asked of us? Sit firmly on the couch each evening and watch Monty Don stroll about the grounds of his lovely garden. All snark aside, that show gave us a calm place each night to learn and hope and plan. It was our respite.
The impending spring and the retreat of the snow and ice, meant that soon we'd find ourselves, tools in hand, on our way to self sufficiency! And soon we'd discover just how steep our backyard really was. It also meant we'd soon bedigging double digging a series of beds that really looked more like burial plots. It was a dark time but we sallied forth with our plans of a fruitful garden and an abundant harvest.
So this particular February 7th occurred in the year of our lord of the manor, 2020 and if you know your history, a pandemic was about to lock us all firmly in place. We were happy to be out of our cramped rental with its teen parties coming through balsa wood walls anyway.There will be a tale of the townhome back forty that Tom will share later- a warm hearted story of the wrong kind of gardening. Which isn't really a thing- any gardening is good gardening. Even if it is only practice for the next time.
Back to what I was saying. We moved in at the start of the pandemic and there was some worry over our new reality. The sacrifice asked of us? Sit firmly on the couch each evening and watch Monty Don stroll about the grounds of his lovely garden. All snark aside, that show gave us a calm place each night to learn and hope and plan. It was our respite.
The impending spring and the retreat of the snow and ice, meant that soon we'd find ourselves, tools in hand, on our way to self sufficiency! And soon we'd discover just how steep our backyard really was. It also meant we'd soon be
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