A Man of the Soil!

That would be me.

D. decided she wants to grow vegetables this year, started a bunch of 'em (from seeds) in li'l bitty pot-like things, and has kept them under a gro-lite (except on the rare days when we've had sunshine). They are getting to the point where they need to be in the ground so as to crank out tomatoes, beans, zucchinis and other healthful edible Food Items.

So last weekend I built two planting frames, which are nothing more than shallow boxes without bottoms or tops. Boards for same came out of the scrap pile (D. is frugal where it counts) and nails came from a box of dusty, rusty fasteners (her dad was frugal, too). After assembly, I plunked the frames in the yard.

Today, I dug up the turf underneath so we can fill the boxes with soil from the Transfer Station (dump, to you) and plant the seedlings. She wants to go there tomorrow to shovel up a bunch of nice, rich dirt, which also happens to be free, just like my new office desk.

Buffy the Buffalo. Not shown: unnamed llama and cow.

Okay, so the grass I was digging up to clear space for the New Dirt and Veggies was not California grass, which tends to have puny, shallow roots and rolls up pretty easily. Nope, this stuff was well entrenched, and didn't want to be taken out. Add saturated soil, lots o' tree roots and a horde of gnats, and the whole process was not what we professional writer-types call "a million laffs."

Ah, the things I'll do for a fresh, home-grown tomato! Or, more accurately, for D. who, among other things-that-make-me-happy today acquired the necessary pieces to install my office door, hang the suspended ceiling and paint the walls (a grayed-tan color called "Castle Path" has been selected for same, since the Home Depot didn't seem to have Zolatone spatter paint and metalflake Kandy Tahitian Orange seemed slightly excessive, even for me)....

Just thought I'd mention this before I limp into the other room to gobble an aspirin or five.