It’s late…I have no “song of the day…or week…or whatever increment of time I’m able to cleverly categorize via a lyrical reference as post title. So, I’m just going to listen to music while I write and see if something comes to me to provide cohesiveness to the last week.

It’s been busy.

When we ended last week, I had filled I think 3 of the beds, and was optimistically assuming Lulu wouldn’t destroy things.

So I went about continuing to fill beds and continuing to negotiate the space with the dog.

Wednesday or Thursday, I sat out in the back yard for a good long time with the dog. It was dark and I couldn’t see her really well, but I assumed she was just doing her Lulu things.

The next morning, I sat out in my spot under the tree. Had some breakfast & read a bit.

Pepper bed with Lulu deterrent.

I got up to water the plants. Soaked the toilet bed, and walked over to the newly-planted cucumber bed…and…discovered Lulu had COMPLETELY destroyed it. dug all the way to the bottom of that soft, fresh, EXPENSIVE soil – tearing up seedlings and churning down seeds.

Cucumber bed

I looked at the other bed, and it was the same.

The next day, I was looking for my watering can and laughed about where I found it. Dropped right where I discovered the horrible scene of my murdered garden.

But, you know necessity is the mother of invention or something like that. And thanks to suggestions for friends – I came up with a solution that continues to work as I’ve slowly rebuilt and replanted.

Feed me, Seymour!

And I’ll skip the part where I rant about the dog and her irritating perpetual puppyness. I am aware that she is a dog and she does dog things. It’s my job to ensure she has a clear understanding of the rules. And, quite honestly, after the initial anger wore off, I spent pretty much the entire week repeating a mantra of appreciation for her many good qualities. Particularly that, unlike some other dogs I’ve owned and lived with, she doesn’t spend her entire existence attempting to find ways to run away from me. I can leave the gate open, and the most she will do is peek out and look at me for reassurance. I like that. I like that I can let her off leash off the park and she always always always comes back to me when I call her. So our little setback with the beds was no big. It’s like parenting. I’m trying to find the way to do this with the least possible amount of work in the long run. So, I discovered framing or fencing the beds is what I will need to do for now. Perhaps eventually she will learn to not get in them, and I’ll be able to forgo the fences. For now, it’s an easy enough fix and appears to be working well functionally and aesthetically.

So – I’m almost done with the yard. I still need to get the trees removed and the fence rebuilt, but that’s not going to be work that I do, and those industries are apparently very busy this time of year and I don’t mind waiting. Like I said above, even my chintzy fence accomplishes its goal of keeping the dog in, and that’s about all I need for it to do now. I think I might build another bed or two in my side yard with whatever cinder blocks and soil is left over. There’s some fixer-upper stuff I need to get done to the siding on parts of the house…And there’s a lot of cleanup work to do. Also, I need to actually build a semi-serviceable fence around the moon garden because there’s no way I’m going to be able to keep the dog out of there while the grass grows. Once all of that is done, I’m moving on to the laundry room remodel…painting, organizing, tiling, and replacing my old clunker washer and dryer with something a little more efficient.

I’m so very thankful that the weather held until I was able to get all of the work done, the majority of the soil moved, and most of the plants in. Pretty much as I was transplanting the last seedling, it began to rain in earnest for the first time since I started shifting soil. I have the remainder of the soil tarped & I’m hoping it doesn’t flood out.


It would be super easy to go on and on with the gardening/landscaping. I’m learning. I’m learning a whole lot. It seems like I’m learning it quickly, but the reality is I’ve been listening to people talk about growing things for a long time. I’ve been dormant and gathering knowledge. And over the past year, I spent a lot of time just sitting in the back yard. And still I observe, because there’s a lot more to do. Incrementally.

Some sort of poppy thing?

Much to Lulu’s delight, we finally got a chance to visit the park again. A lot of things are blooming that weren’t blooming before. It’s been two weeks, I think, since this madness began. It was nice to explore another space.


And I visited with some friends. Lately I am fascinated by everyone’s space – particularly their outdoor space. I’m a little obsessed. So I got to see the yard of C – the friend who gifted me my two lovely hens. Chickens and bunnies and dogs and plants.

Today, as I was walking the dog out to the car so we could go to the park, an old hippie-looking guy said “hey.” and I said “hey” back. I didn’t recognize the guy at first. All those old hippie guys look the same to me. But he said “I think I yelled at you one time about a year ago.” and I immediately remembered the incident. I was watering my tomato plants using the sprinkler as a handheld waterer and he started screaming at me about water restrictions which I thought was pretty fucking funny considering I have never in the entire time I’ve lived here watered my lawn or really did any sort of yard work.

Not wanting to rehash that conflict, I played it cool. I was like “Hmmm…I’m not sure I remembered.” He pressed “Yeah…well, I’m really sorry. I was injured and in a lot of physical pain at the time, and I think I acted like a jerk, but I can’t remember why.”

“Water restrictions,” I said. “You were angry that I was watering my tomato plants.”

He seemed dubious. For a second, I thought he was going to say “Well, never mind, then! I’m glad I yelled at you, you evil water-waster.” Instead, he shook his head.

“That doesn’t ring a bell,” he said. “Anyway. I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to apologize for awhile now.”

“It’s ok,” I said. Feeling generous, I threw in an empathy statement. “I can get pretty cranky myself about certain things sometimes, too.”

He laughed. Said “I’m turning into a cranky old man!” Reiterated his apology. Walked on.

Shaunee and ESP eat together in perfect harmony…

I guess I’ll end there. ❤