Flora and Fauna and Fertilizer

Saturday I decided to do something about the lack of plant life in my flower beds. I’d planted two tomato seedlings in January in a fit of optimism, but they stubbornly refused to flourish and died out of spite. The only hint of life to be found in the yard were the sorely neglected potted mint plants that even I could not kill. A miracle!

I spent some time swooning over the beautiful photos on Pinterest. I had fallen in love with the idea of a steel baker’s rack laden with planters; a vertical herb garden. The short walls in my yard, however, necessitated a shorter option. I was able to procure this bad boy at the local Goodwill for $10.

A quick stop at the Home Depot provided several new plants, two long planter boxes, and a giant bag of poo. Granted, the packaging says potting soil but trust me: the nose don’t lie. I lugged my haul out into the backyard all by my lonesome. Thank God for the hand truck in the garage because I was NOT gonna drag fifty pounds of scat around to the gate or worse, through the house.

Giant bag of poo!

I donned my gardening gloves, grabbed the shovel, and tore into the planters flanking the patio. The sun was brutal. Although I was clever enough to remember the sunblock, I was not LIMBER enough to completely cover my back. I now look like a pink giraffe.

After much digging, grunting and sweating, I was able to incorporate the manure and half a bag of leftover potting soil into the appropriate receptacles.

 

I was now ready to drop in the greenery. Gently, to be sure, as I could tell they were terrified of me.

 

“Shhh,” I murmured, “I mean you no harm”. I should probably stop saying that. Last time I said it was to a rather brave little lizard, happily sunning himself on the wall. He eyed me skeptically. I moved about slowly, so as not to disturb or startle him, and assured him, “I mean you no harm”. Then my dog ate him.

But reptilian tragedies aside, I managed to find comfortable homes for my new tomatoes, peppers and squash in the ground, and the herbs in their makeshift bunk beds. I tossed all the trash, cleaned the tools, and gave the whole backyard a good soak.

 

One hot shower and one glass of wine later, I stood at the back door and admired my handiwork. My back muscles were killing me, but it was all worth it. The previously parched backyard once again looks like a fresh garden. Too bad it smells like a fresh diaper.