I spent another two hours outside on Saturday with our fourth raised bed, and the work still isn't done. Two more hours of hammering and drilling and roto-tilling and shoveling and wheelbarrowing. Phew. I've calculated that from start to finish each raised bed takes approximately 10-12 man hours. Considering that I work full time, that the mess inside the house is deteriorating, that I'm applying for jobs in eighteen different school districts, and that the weather's been nasty it's been tough to squeeze in all those gardening hours.
Fortunately, this is the type of work that I thrive on. It's not quite mindless, but it does allow for me to step into a well-worn grove and to stay there for a while. My thoughts can wander about, play in the dirt, or enjoy a picnic lunch, thoroughly free from my meddling. Building these raised beds has provided my brain with the perfect opportunity to take a break from itself, to expand and contract in any way that it pleases.
Not to mention, the garden is progressing, and there is beauty in its order. I have loved (LOVED) our garden the past two years, with its wild, sprawling energy, but what's emerging from this new space on Lincoln Street is equally vivacious...yet perfectly controlled. Ahhhhhhh. As wide as Camille's fancy-free aspirations and the vegetables' mid-summer exuberance might be there will be order in the garden. Sweet, sweet order in the garden.
Onwards raised beds!
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