A Summer Garden and the Simple Life

I’d like to think I’m capable of enjoying a summer garden and the simple life at the same time, but tending a garden is not a simple act. It takes time, endurance, and a certain amount of skill and it does help to not be afraid of worms, insects, and getting dirty ----all of which give me the creeps.

Moving to our new house in April, we found the backyard to be a blank slate. Thinking that when we sold our house on Signal Mountain and moved to north Georgia, we would most likely not have a yard, we gave away the majority of our outdoor tools---even the lawn mower. The good news is that we can share the lawn mower with our son Daniel, who lives eight houses away and who takes turns with his dad cutting the grass in both yards at the same time. Or Mark cuts and Daniel edges; still it is nice to have green grass and a lawn, something I have not had in the sixteen years we lived on Signal Mountain. Of course on SM I had trees and the largest tree I have now is three inches tall….yes, you read right—a sapling growing in my garden….will it or will it not survive? That is the question.

I digress….and therein lies the reason I want a garden to grow my own vegetables, to see the product of my (and I use the word loosely because it is my husband’s green thumb that is the true gardener) efforts from beginning to end; and, to have a place where I can step outside in my nightgown (like my dear friend Debby confesses doing in her morning ritual through her garden) and see for myself the product of our toils. I am the one who sets the plan in motion, with his blessing, I might add, deciding what vegetable to plant; what herb to buy; what flower will enhance that corner of the lot. I even picked out the hedge of Leland Cypresses for the back yard.

But alas, our garden is just a dream right now.

“It is a work in progress,” he says. I decide that is good. Moving forward in any direction is better than standing still.


Two beds were already built around the shed. In one, we planted crowder peas that the granddaughter, Paige planted from seed. When the “bush” peas turned out to be climbers my husband built a trellis out of wood and twine and now the beans are not only climbing reaching for the sun, but flowering and producing a bounty of beans; thank you Paige.

On the other side of the potting shed we planted two tomato plants and later some mint because we plan to plant tomatoes in the big bed next year. In the meantime, we have gotten three tomatoes which is a miracle. It was usually late August before it got warm enough for tomatoes on Signal Mountain. These tomatoes are good, but not like some of the heritage plants from previous years. We will have to experiment in the new bed next year with a variety of tomato plants. But I couldn't help but admire the dew drops on our tomato plants this morning as I walked around the back yard just after the sun rose.

Looking off into the distance I was spell-bound by the fog and mist rolling across the field behind our home. Fodder to the goats and cows that roam the field, it pleases me to be reminded of a simpler time in life when families lived off the land they held so dear. My back yard may be a blank slate but the beautiful raised bed my husband built will be filled with “black gold” dirt and “stuff” from our compost pile. And like the beautiful crowder peas, the larger beds will one day be filled with a bounty of produce that we can not only put on our dinner table, but share with our friends and family not unlike a simpler time in life.