My Little Redneck Garden
July 11, 2014
This is my 4th year to have a garden and every year I get a little more redneck. Interestingly enough, my green thumb has been increasing in direct correlation to my renecking. Odd. Personally, I find my garden endearing and cute. I started out with just a wooden garden box that my sweet hubby built me so I could grow kitchen herbs. We’ve progressed quite a bit since then.
The chicken wire? Yeah, in our neighborhood there are rabbits that can leap a building in a single bound. In addition, I now have a steel drum that holds strawberries, 5-gallon buckets that hold peppers, and tires that hold potatoes.
Last but not least, there is a wooden pallet that usually holds onions and garlic but is miraculously holding tomatoes this year as well, and they are thriving. Trust me, no one is more shocked than I am. This gardening thing, it’s trial and error, I tell ya.
You may be curious about the location of said redneck garden. Well, it’s partially due to the sun but predominantly because we don’t have a spigot in the backyard but this spot is just below the kitchen window where the sink is. Meaning, I can open the window, pull out the sprayer, and give my little redneck garden a drink. See it hanging down? Pretty smart if I do say so myself. And, redneck, of course.
I also have a fancy rain water collection system. Jealous?
This week, the my little redneck garden got a little more redneck. You see, I grew pumpkin and watermelon plants from seeds (SEEDS, y’all) and successfully transplanted them. Go, me!
The only problem… I highly underestimated the square footage these suckers require. So, now I’m trying to kill grass as quickly as possible to made more bed space for these boogers to spread out. With cardboard. Nice, right?
Last but not least, there is my lazy composting pile. I dig holes in the yard, throw some food in them, and cover them with dirt. Every few days, if I think about it, I poke around the pile with my shovel and then cover it with a piece of cardboard to keep the dog out of it. I know, I know. You true composters are gasping for breath about now.
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