I think back to when we first saw Deep Eaves, in June of 2012. Somehow the small tree in the front yard was bright and blooming. The hedges, green and flowering. But I just can’t be convinced these things are coming back to life looking at them now. I mean, June is just several weeks away. Plus, we threw an entire two-family home’s worth of crap from the second floor to the “lawn” and left it piled in Bagsters for a couple weeks. I’m sure suffocating under a ton (literally) of junk wasn’t good for it.
Currently, yard work entails picking up trash that’s blown in from the neighborhood. Living on a main road, I know this trash pickup will be ongoing, but I still have that “new homebuyer enthusiasm” so I’ll keep it up for a bit. Soon though, I’m going to have to think about actually maintaining the current situation. Maybe even planting something new.
Now, let’s go back a couple years. Before Boston, before taking on this Giant Project, I spent a good amount of time – hours and hours of my life – working on some advertising for a home improvement retail client. And if you’ve been reading this blog at all, you can figure out which giant home improvement retailer I wasn’t helping by process of elimination. Because I’m kind of loyal like that. Or, because one store is close and the other is way outside our bubble.
I actually learned a lot about different products and projects. In fact, a good chunk of my time was spent on Lawn & Garden. Mowers! Trimmers! Edgers! Hanging plants! Trellis art! DIY compost! DIY raised beds! Irrigation! Annuals vs. Perennials! Landscaping ideas for every single region of the country. We built an entire online guide to lawn and garden inspiration. I mean, my thumb should be ridiculously green by now.
Except, it’s not. Because I only wrote about it. I did not DIY any of it in reality. And now I am faced with my own backyard. And front yard. And it’s all dead-ish. And weedy. And the tools we have are all from WWI era (no joke, we have some antique shovels and hoes and other things that I’d like to imagine are worth money but probably aren’t).
The only thing I’ve done in the yard since we bought Deep Eaves, besides pickup trash, is to plant three tulip bulbs in each of the two front planters, in December, around MIDNIGHT one night. Call it a case of the crazies – me, out front, digging through the weedy dirt with an ancient trowel.
And despite planting them late, and covering them with minimal, scrappy dirt, they are a couple inches tall now. I am really surprised they are growing. I think it’s luck. I should stop talking about them now because it’s contradicting this whole post.
So back to the yards. I bought a rake this weekend. A leaf rake. I know what to do with one of those. I did in fact grow up doing yard work. I raked the backyard, piled and bagged all the dead leaves and debris for no other reason than I’ve gotten sick of looking at dead, brown winter still hanging around the house.
Now we can see the backyard for what it is: a plot of dirt with patchy, grass-like plants and a weird line of bricks running through it, surrounded by a fence that needs repair and laundry line posts that need to be taken down. And we will wait for the weeds and odd grasses to grow tall enough to require mowing. And that will be the next tool we will invest in.
The following sign is in our basement, next to the old tools. I’d like to know the story behind it. Clearly, it doesn’t have any place in our yard right now, but if anyone wanted to come in and steal some weeds, I’d wave them in and offer them a drink. Maybe by the end of summer I’ll be able to put this out in the front yard without irony. Doubtful.
Deep Eaves & Empty Pockets 