Yard Work
There is a little known law of Texas geophysics which states that in any sequence of post holes at least one hole must encounter a rock of significant size, particularly if the holes are being dug in what appears to be good, soft soil. I think it has something to do with keeping a man humble and within himself. It happened to me yesterday as I was sinking posts for my new trellis. The first two went in without a hitch. The third encountered the rock and required the application of my big drop bar. I prevailed.
I now have three cedar poles firmly planted and cemented in place to carry the weight of the morning glory. I’ll start running cross pieces this week. What I envision is a big green wall, maybe with a small roof, covered in blue blooms rising to the sky, with a bench in the center where one could sit a spell if one so desired. Of course, what will most likely happen is the cats will find it to be a cool shady space and make themselves at home. That’s fine with me, too. Because I will still be able to see the flowers out my kitchen window.
Now that the trellis has started and the morning glory has a place to go as it grows, I can get back to the new garden on the north fence in the front yard. My liquid corn gluten arrived and I’m ready to spray and then put down my weed barrier. Then it will be off to the mulch yard with my friend’s big 16-foot trailer, and we’ll bring back three yards of ground up hardwood and the terraforming of my yard will continue because that’s what we do as humans. We make places our own, mark our territory, create signs to tell people what sort of man lives there. In case you haven’t noticed, I like plants.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale