We started theme parties with food. We'd pick a country (for example, Greece) or a style (like grilled cheese sandwiches), and have a potluck with people keeping to the theme. Then came my mom's night to host a monthly Star Trek party that she attends (a potluck involving watching 3-4 episodes and not dressing up) and she asked if she could have it at my house - I have more room and a wet bar. I really did that party up - printed and laminated drink menus (with such classics as Romulan Ale, Klingon Martinis, and Slug-o-Cola), hung a "Quark's" sign over the bar, and made Quadriticale Bread, Hasperat, and my own take on Gladt (dolmas). Everyone laughed at the effort I put in, but ultimately had a blast. Since then, we've hosted a circus night and a Super Mario night and I have realized that most people see these themes to be an under ten kid thing. So here's how to throw a themed party geared towards an older crowd:
Consider your guests - what are their interests? Do they have any food or drink allergies? It's important to pick a theme everyone can enjoy and to make sure that there is at least something that celiac friend of yours can eat.
Pick your theme - have a lot of friends been expressing a craving for Italian? Pull up some classic Italian recipes, encourage others to make their favorites, watch a classic Italian movie. Do you have a friend who's joining the circus? An adult take on corn dogs (corn brats or sausages with extra spice in the batter), smoked turkey legs, alcoholic sno-cones, cotton candy martinis, find some unique card games. Has your husband been constantly playing classic video games? One-up jello shots, gorgonzola stuffed gumbas, and firepower poppers make an excellent accent to a video game tournament.
Discuss your ideas with guests. Unless it's a surprise party, you should keep it from the person of honor. I've found that people are always willing to contribute ideas and get ideas of what they'd like to bring in turn.
Really run with your theme. Not necessarily with costumes, unless that's you're thing. A little research online will turn up numerous ideas for food, drink, and games. And get creative. Get a keg for Greek night (frat parties - get it?). Don't be afraid to "alter" Star Trek recipes to make Earth food.
Truth be told, if your friends are anything like mine, they enjoy any reason to get together and eat. They'll have fun and will start coming to you, suggesting a Thai night, a Martini night, or a Texas Hold 'Em night. And the themes will never stop. Who said theme parties were just for kids?
Monday, April 18, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
buying a house young
One of my first paying jobs was helping my father clean and fix up his rental property whenever renters moved out. I learned a lot about the nature of people in rental agreements - most of them see a damage deposit as a free pass to do whatever they want to the place. In my experience, this included tearing up the venetian blinds, not bothering to house train (or clean up after) pets, and even a half-assed and utterly confusing attempt at taking down an interior wall. So I figured I knew what to expect my father decided he wanted to sell the house and I convinced him to sell it to me. We hammered out the details over dinner - he'd put my name on the mortgage along with his so I could keep the 2.8% fixed rate, he wouldn't help me financially with paying the mortgage or making repairs, and he would let me have the house for the remainder of the mortgage. His exact words, after we sealed the deal with a handshake and a hug, were "That house is your problem now."
I moved in November of '07 at the age of 22, armed to the teeth with cleaning supplies and air fresheners, with some money set aside to start on all the renovations I wanted to make. A month of cleaning and airing the place out, and I was ready to start those renovations. Then the pipes in the attic froze and burst - three times, until we finally found a good, honest plumber. Shortly after that, I ran out of propane and needed to fill the 300 gallon tank (turns out, that's much more expensive in the winter). Then the septic tank overflowed and needed pumping. Then the pump to the well broke. Then I learned the term "property tax" and finally accepted that I was not prepared for what I had undertaken.
Since that rocky start, I have become extremely organized. I fill up the propane tank every July and keep my eye on the gauge throughout the year and I have a date in 2012 to pump the septic tank (turns out it only needs it every 5 years). I've started a "shit happens" savings account. I even got a filing cabinet. And, despite his desire to see me deal with the house problems on my own, I am very grateful to my dad for answering every stupid question I've had and giving me a heads up on the property tax thing - even if he still makes fun of me for sputtering out the words "Property tax? Doesn't the government know how much money I've spent on this place already?"
Of course, if you're not the type that thoroughly enjoys learning by trial and error, I recommend doing research before committing yourself to buying a home. And here is what I wished someone would have told me prior to getting my house:
Get a non-romanticized view of the home. In other words, before getting caught up in what you can do, understand what needs to be done.
- Are there foundation cracks or leaky windows? (In my case, the plumbing/propane/septic issues drained what I had saved for the fun stuff.)
- Are the heaters and stove electric or propane? Is it running on a well or city water? It makes a difference with how you budget.
- When was the last time the pipes or water heater were replaced? Is this an expense you should be prepared to cover?
- Can you deal with the ugly tile in the bathroom until you can definitely afford to renovate?
Look into the area.
- What are the property taxes in the area?
- How much are utilities and what's available in the area? (We are still waiting for super high speed internet.)
- How's the neighborhood? Will the neighbors dog chase after you barking when you go on your morning jog? Do they have loud parties?
- Is there a home owner's association? If so, what are their rules and regulations?
And, for your own sanity, start up a "shit happens" fund.
I moved in November of '07 at the age of 22, armed to the teeth with cleaning supplies and air fresheners, with some money set aside to start on all the renovations I wanted to make. A month of cleaning and airing the place out, and I was ready to start those renovations. Then the pipes in the attic froze and burst - three times, until we finally found a good, honest plumber. Shortly after that, I ran out of propane and needed to fill the 300 gallon tank (turns out, that's much more expensive in the winter). Then the septic tank overflowed and needed pumping. Then the pump to the well broke. Then I learned the term "property tax" and finally accepted that I was not prepared for what I had undertaken.
Since that rocky start, I have become extremely organized. I fill up the propane tank every July and keep my eye on the gauge throughout the year and I have a date in 2012 to pump the septic tank (turns out it only needs it every 5 years). I've started a "shit happens" savings account. I even got a filing cabinet. And, despite his desire to see me deal with the house problems on my own, I am very grateful to my dad for answering every stupid question I've had and giving me a heads up on the property tax thing - even if he still makes fun of me for sputtering out the words "Property tax? Doesn't the government know how much money I've spent on this place already?"
Of course, if you're not the type that thoroughly enjoys learning by trial and error, I recommend doing research before committing yourself to buying a home. And here is what I wished someone would have told me prior to getting my house:
Get a non-romanticized view of the home. In other words, before getting caught up in what you can do, understand what needs to be done.
- Are there foundation cracks or leaky windows? (In my case, the plumbing/propane/septic issues drained what I had saved for the fun stuff.)
- Are the heaters and stove electric or propane? Is it running on a well or city water? It makes a difference with how you budget.
- When was the last time the pipes or water heater were replaced? Is this an expense you should be prepared to cover?
- Can you deal with the ugly tile in the bathroom until you can definitely afford to renovate?
Look into the area.
- What are the property taxes in the area?
- How much are utilities and what's available in the area? (We are still waiting for super high speed internet.)
- How's the neighborhood? Will the neighbors dog chase after you barking when you go on your morning jog? Do they have loud parties?
- Is there a home owner's association? If so, what are their rules and regulations?
And, for your own sanity, start up a "shit happens" fund.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
I live in a three bedroom house with five other adults, two nomadic cats, and a needy dog. And it's not nearly as chaotic as it sounds. As with everything, it has it's good and it's bad aspects...
On the dark side:
-- We only have one working shower. Pair that with four long-haired (and one long-bearded) individuals, and the fact that I was astoundingly brilliant in avoiding all other cleaning responsibilities by declaring the bathrooms "my space", leads to daily straightening of the bathroom and weekly "hair babies" out of the shower drain. Thankfully, other people have taken on the dishes, which I hate even more.
-- We all keep different schedules. But we're respectful of the noise level.
But, on the bright side:
-- Everyone here loves to cook. Someone is cooking something delicious every night of the week.
-- Each person is only responsible for 1/6th of the rent and utilities, and saving money is always nice.
-- Everyone is willing to help in some way if someone needs something (be it a bit of help with bills, a lot of help with home improvement projects, or a partner to work out with).
So how do we make it work? The easiest answer is that we managed to pick roommates with similar tastes and values. We all like and respect each other and we're extremely open with communication - if you let a little annoyance go without talking about it, it will fester and grow into a large problem. We started a shared Dropbox, linked through everyone's computers and phones, where we put our shopping list and update once something is in the cart (it took ending up with two gallons of yogurt, five gallons of milk, and more chicken breasts than I care to admit thanks to three of us unknowingly shopping at the same time to reach this revelation, but it was definitely necessary). We also have a whiteboard near the door, where we write whatever everyone owes on bills as they come in and general communication.
It's not perfect. We don't always get to shower when we want and occasionally someone will let the dishes pile up. And we all have our bad days. But, for the most part, we've managed to find a rhythm with each other. I get a good amount of me time, but I'm never lonely.
On the dark side:
-- We only have one working shower. Pair that with four long-haired (and one long-bearded) individuals, and the fact that I was astoundingly brilliant in avoiding all other cleaning responsibilities by declaring the bathrooms "my space", leads to daily straightening of the bathroom and weekly "hair babies" out of the shower drain. Thankfully, other people have taken on the dishes, which I hate even more.
-- We all keep different schedules. But we're respectful of the noise level.
But, on the bright side:
-- Everyone here loves to cook. Someone is cooking something delicious every night of the week.
-- Each person is only responsible for 1/6th of the rent and utilities, and saving money is always nice.
-- Everyone is willing to help in some way if someone needs something (be it a bit of help with bills, a lot of help with home improvement projects, or a partner to work out with).
So how do we make it work? The easiest answer is that we managed to pick roommates with similar tastes and values. We all like and respect each other and we're extremely open with communication - if you let a little annoyance go without talking about it, it will fester and grow into a large problem. We started a shared Dropbox, linked through everyone's computers and phones, where we put our shopping list and update once something is in the cart (it took ending up with two gallons of yogurt, five gallons of milk, and more chicken breasts than I care to admit thanks to three of us unknowingly shopping at the same time to reach this revelation, but it was definitely necessary). We also have a whiteboard near the door, where we write whatever everyone owes on bills as they come in and general communication.
It's not perfect. We don't always get to shower when we want and occasionally someone will let the dishes pile up. And we all have our bad days. But, for the most part, we've managed to find a rhythm with each other. I get a good amount of me time, but I'm never lonely.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
co-habitation at it's finest
I acquired my house three and a half years ago at the age of twenty-two. This was huge for me. When all of my friends were renting, I had a place where I could put any color I wanted on the walls, pick out new tile or flooring, and completely make my own. Through trial and error, I learned basic plumbing and electric skills. I also learned that I am a control freak and that my younger brother, who had moved in with me from the start, was an excellent roommate (possibly because he saw me as the house matriarch and went along with my controlling ways). I had three years to settle into My Way before my then-fiance moved in. Turns out, I'm not very good at sharing my space.
After a very tense month of Mo walking on eggshells and me taking the brunt of the housework, I realized that something needed to give... and that thing was me. So one day when Mo was at work, I took on my bathroom and bedroom. Two large bags of clothes for donation later, he had his own drawer in the bathroom and I had moved his side of the bed away from the wall and given him a nightstand and half of the closet. I even moved his musical and recording equipment into the spare bedroom, turning it into a music room. When I did that, I vowed to not be bothered if those spaces, his spaces, got a little messy and so far I have kept that promise. The next weekend, I got Mo and my brother together and we reorganized the rest of the house. We went through everything, consolidated our belongings and donating the things we had two of or had never used. We comprised on where to rearrange the living room furniture and even bought a rug. We also divided up chores and the house has maintained a level of clean and organized that trills me, especially since I'm no longer doing all the work.
It's rarely easy when one half of the couple moves into a home that's been established by the other half. The best way to overcome that, at least for me, was to embark on a sort of "spring cleaning" with my husband. Through giving him his own space in the house, even space as little as a drawer, I realized I expressed to him that he is a welcome member of this house. Through reorganizing the shared space, we both became more comfortable with sharing. Though I still have final say in large projects around the house, it's become less "mine" and more "ours". And once he realized he's welcome here for good, he became more than happy to help out around the house. Our home, like our marriage, is a work in progress, but we're in it together and that's all that matters.
After a very tense month of Mo walking on eggshells and me taking the brunt of the housework, I realized that something needed to give... and that thing was me. So one day when Mo was at work, I took on my bathroom and bedroom. Two large bags of clothes for donation later, he had his own drawer in the bathroom and I had moved his side of the bed away from the wall and given him a nightstand and half of the closet. I even moved his musical and recording equipment into the spare bedroom, turning it into a music room. When I did that, I vowed to not be bothered if those spaces, his spaces, got a little messy and so far I have kept that promise. The next weekend, I got Mo and my brother together and we reorganized the rest of the house. We went through everything, consolidated our belongings and donating the things we had two of or had never used. We comprised on where to rearrange the living room furniture and even bought a rug. We also divided up chores and the house has maintained a level of clean and organized that trills me, especially since I'm no longer doing all the work.
It's rarely easy when one half of the couple moves into a home that's been established by the other half. The best way to overcome that, at least for me, was to embark on a sort of "spring cleaning" with my husband. Through giving him his own space in the house, even space as little as a drawer, I realized I expressed to him that he is a welcome member of this house. Through reorganizing the shared space, we both became more comfortable with sharing. Though I still have final say in large projects around the house, it's become less "mine" and more "ours". And once he realized he's welcome here for good, he became more than happy to help out around the house. Our home, like our marriage, is a work in progress, but we're in it together and that's all that matters.
finding perfection in an imperfect floor
This is the only before pic I have of the kitchen. You can see stains from two rooms over. We had fun there, obviously, but I hated people to see the walls.
"Uh, Shelly?" My husband was slouching in an attempt to make himself appear smaller and giving me puppy dog eyes, a sure sign that he had picked up on my foul mood and was sure I wouldn't like what he was about to tell me. "We're going to have to do a patchwork job with the flooring in the laundry room."
"What? Why?" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet and rushing to the room in question, as though my fervor in the matter could make more vinyl flooring appear. When I got there, though, my words surprised everyone.
"I like it. Let's do it."
I had taken ownership of the house when I was twenty-two. My parents owned it and were fed up with bad renters, so they agreed to let me take over the mortgage on the condition that I allow my younger brother to live with me. I immediately started dreaming of all the possibilities this ancient, leaky, adobe house offered. I would do all the work myself and then sit back and enjoy a cocktail while marveling over all I had accomplished. By the time my husband moved in, almost three years after I had, I realized I had accomplished very little. But my husbands constant mantra of "let's do it" renewed my dreams. We discussed all the rooms of the house and decided to start with the kitchen and the laundry room - both in need of a coat or five of paint (thanks to those mystery stains that stubbornly remain as the paint around them is scrubbed off) and new flooring (the existing floor was peeling, cracked, and also resistant to scrubbing). We decided on red for the kitchen walls and cappuccino for the laundry room, buying Behr (www.behr.com) brand paint with hopes that it would cover the stains and a rolled up sheet of black and white flooring that we were told would cover the kitchen and laundry room floors with enough left over for the bathroom. I had images of myself in a tea-length dress, cooking dinner in my perfect kitchen with nary a hair out of place - I was going to be a tattooed June Cleaver.
We started on a Thursday afternoon, moving all our large appliances into the living room. The first upset was the realization that they didn't want us to disconnect our propane stove and we'd have to make do with jacks and having people lift it to get the flooring underneath. We covered the stove with a tarp and got to painting the kitchen. To my delight, the paint worked as advertised and it took a single coat to cover the stains that had taunted me. We were off to a great start! The next morning, we ripped up the flooring and discovered the second upset - a huge batch of mold where the old flooring had been peeling. We saturated it with mold remover, which worked surprisingly well, and I moved on to painting the laundry room while the guys (my husband, our roommate, and a good friend) began laying the flooring in the kitchen.
By the time Saturday rolled around, we all had assumed we'd be done already and patience was wearing thin. I was eager to remove the chaos from my living room and the boys were eager to just be done and get to playing video games. Then we realized that through either a math error or a miscommunication with the gentleman who sold it to us, we had barely enough vinyl to finish the floor in the laundry room and most of it was in pieces. And that's where this story started.
This was our first DIY project. It's not perfect, but neither are we. When I look at that floor, I think about all the love that went into it. I can't be June Cleaver - she never worked two jobs, never lived with her brother and a roommate in addition to her husband, and she certainly never indulged in DIY home improvement. Maybe I'll become more like June Cleaver some day, but right now, I'm embracing the perfect imperfections of the life and home that I love, celebrating our new kitchen with brats, good beer, great company, and bad karaoke.
"Uh, Shelly?" My husband was slouching in an attempt to make himself appear smaller and giving me puppy dog eyes, a sure sign that he had picked up on my foul mood and was sure I wouldn't like what he was about to tell me. "We're going to have to do a patchwork job with the flooring in the laundry room."
"What? Why?" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet and rushing to the room in question, as though my fervor in the matter could make more vinyl flooring appear. When I got there, though, my words surprised everyone.
"I like it. Let's do it."
I had taken ownership of the house when I was twenty-two. My parents owned it and were fed up with bad renters, so they agreed to let me take over the mortgage on the condition that I allow my younger brother to live with me. I immediately started dreaming of all the possibilities this ancient, leaky, adobe house offered. I would do all the work myself and then sit back and enjoy a cocktail while marveling over all I had accomplished. By the time my husband moved in, almost three years after I had, I realized I had accomplished very little. But my husbands constant mantra of "let's do it" renewed my dreams. We discussed all the rooms of the house and decided to start with the kitchen and the laundry room - both in need of a coat or five of paint (thanks to those mystery stains that stubbornly remain as the paint around them is scrubbed off) and new flooring (the existing floor was peeling, cracked, and also resistant to scrubbing). We decided on red for the kitchen walls and cappuccino for the laundry room, buying Behr (www.behr.com) brand paint with hopes that it would cover the stains and a rolled up sheet of black and white flooring that we were told would cover the kitchen and laundry room floors with enough left over for the bathroom. I had images of myself in a tea-length dress, cooking dinner in my perfect kitchen with nary a hair out of place - I was going to be a tattooed June Cleaver.
We started on a Thursday afternoon, moving all our large appliances into the living room. The first upset was the realization that they didn't want us to disconnect our propane stove and we'd have to make do with jacks and having people lift it to get the flooring underneath. We covered the stove with a tarp and got to painting the kitchen. To my delight, the paint worked as advertised and it took a single coat to cover the stains that had taunted me. We were off to a great start! The next morning, we ripped up the flooring and discovered the second upset - a huge batch of mold where the old flooring had been peeling. We saturated it with mold remover, which worked surprisingly well, and I moved on to painting the laundry room while the guys (my husband, our roommate, and a good friend) began laying the flooring in the kitchen.
By the time Saturday rolled around, we all had assumed we'd be done already and patience was wearing thin. I was eager to remove the chaos from my living room and the boys were eager to just be done and get to playing video games. Then we realized that through either a math error or a miscommunication with the gentleman who sold it to us, we had barely enough vinyl to finish the floor in the laundry room and most of it was in pieces. And that's where this story started.
This was our first DIY project. It's not perfect, but neither are we. When I look at that floor, I think about all the love that went into it. I can't be June Cleaver - she never worked two jobs, never lived with her brother and a roommate in addition to her husband, and she certainly never indulged in DIY home improvement. Maybe I'll become more like June Cleaver some day, but right now, I'm embracing the perfect imperfections of the life and home that I love, celebrating our new kitchen with brats, good beer, great company, and bad karaoke.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
deck stuffs and more gardening whatnot
So my birthday was Saturday. We did it up: went horseback riding, then had a party. Our friend Rob made frog legs, alligator steaks, and crawfish in addition to collard greens, black eye peas, and beer and cheese soup. All of it was delicious, and he matches our kitchen:
At any rate, we got a late wedding gift/birthday present of a $300 gift card to Home Depot. We spent it in one day. Sunday, we picked up vinyl (for the office), paint (for the office and lower bathroom), paint supplies, deck restore stuff, a hot pepper upside-down planter, four hot pepper plants, and two tomato plants. I got the tomatoes in planters (a Mr. Stripey and a Black Prince) and the upside-down pepper thing up (with two tabasco and two habanero) on Monday. The black prince and one habanero aren't doing too well, but we're trying to look on the bright side.
We got the deck done, though. We stained the trim with the same stain we used on the picnic table and put the deck restore stuff down. This stuff is awesome, it hardened and created an interesting texture, but it rained last night and it held up to that (after we put it on about 8 hours prior).
Here's the finished product, thanks to Zulu for modeling:
Today, we painted the bathroom (Morgan is finishing up at the moment, pictures to follow). Tomorrow, we're going to paint the office, then Friday we're going to lay vinyl in the office. Feeling good about this week.
At any rate, we got a late wedding gift/birthday present of a $300 gift card to Home Depot. We spent it in one day. Sunday, we picked up vinyl (for the office), paint (for the office and lower bathroom), paint supplies, deck restore stuff, a hot pepper upside-down planter, four hot pepper plants, and two tomato plants. I got the tomatoes in planters (a Mr. Stripey and a Black Prince) and the upside-down pepper thing up (with two tabasco and two habanero) on Monday. The black prince and one habanero aren't doing too well, but we're trying to look on the bright side.
We got the deck done, though. We stained the trim with the same stain we used on the picnic table and put the deck restore stuff down. This stuff is awesome, it hardened and created an interesting texture, but it rained last night and it held up to that (after we put it on about 8 hours prior).
Here's the finished product, thanks to Zulu for modeling:
Today, we painted the bathroom (Morgan is finishing up at the moment, pictures to follow). Tomorrow, we're going to paint the office, then Friday we're going to lay vinyl in the office. Feeling good about this week.
Friday, March 25, 2011
why (my) gardening is harder than (my) pregnancy
It came to me as I was attempting to till soil with an axe (we had found a power tiller in our shed, but declared it not functional after an hour of tinkering and more blood shed than I care to admit): Gardening is a lot like pregnancy. Now, I've only had one pregnancy and that pregnancy was an accident resulting in an amazing adoption story (side note: that story was published on Offbeat Mama: http://offbeatmama.com/2009/ 09/open-adoption-birth-story). However, as I was taking a break and looking over my garden, heart alight with all the possibilities it offers, I realized that this garden has already been a lot more difficult than my pregnancy, and here is why:
- My body didn't set the stage for my garden. I had to plan, clear the top soil, till, plant seeds, and fertilize. With my pregnancy, the only thing I consciously did was till.
- When pregnant, my body gave in-your-face clues as to what kind of nutrients it needed. With the garden, I've had to research endlessly and hope I wasn't getting bad advice, reading it wrong, or confusing the plants.
- I've bled a lot for this garden without the benefit of people giving me drugs and telling me what to do.
- I wasn't allergic to most of the things pregnancy involved. With the gardening, it turns out that I am allergic to just about everything that produces pollen in the spring.
- If you're healthy, pregnancy doesn't involve a bunch of bugs. And it definitely doesn't involve birds eating everything before you get a chance.
- If you forget a prenatal vitamin a couple days, it's not cause for concern. If you forget to water a couple days, you could lose all that hard work.
- No one is sympathetic to your gardening aches and pains.
- Pregnancy doesn't require getting out of bed early (except to pee, then you can go back), changing out of your pajamas, or getting dirty.
When all is said and done, though, I can only hope that at the end of the season, my garden has brought me a tenth of the joy that giving birth has.
- My body didn't set the stage for my garden. I had to plan, clear the top soil, till, plant seeds, and fertilize. With my pregnancy, the only thing I consciously did was till.
- When pregnant, my body gave in-your-face clues as to what kind of nutrients it needed. With the garden, I've had to research endlessly and hope I wasn't getting bad advice, reading it wrong, or confusing the plants.
- I've bled a lot for this garden without the benefit of people giving me drugs and telling me what to do.
- I wasn't allergic to most of the things pregnancy involved. With the gardening, it turns out that I am allergic to just about everything that produces pollen in the spring.
- If you're healthy, pregnancy doesn't involve a bunch of bugs. And it definitely doesn't involve birds eating everything before you get a chance.
- If you forget a prenatal vitamin a couple days, it's not cause for concern. If you forget to water a couple days, you could lose all that hard work.
- No one is sympathetic to your gardening aches and pains.
- Pregnancy doesn't require getting out of bed early (except to pee, then you can go back), changing out of your pajamas, or getting dirty.
When all is said and done, though, I can only hope that at the end of the season, my garden has brought me a tenth of the joy that giving birth has.
every new beginning
We've been talking about making a garden ever since we moved in... three years ago. We only just now took the action to make it happen. We had a bunch of stuff around the house (such as the herb trough and a power tiller), so we decided to use whatever we could find whenever possible to minimize costs.
We started with the herbs. Had to fix the trough. Had to sand and stain. Then we got the dirt in and planted the herbs. The problem? We didn't really know when to plant and our basil is probably a write-off. That's it on the left.
Next step, the actual garden. We cleared away topsoil and put stakes in the ground and were ready for the power tiller.
After about an hour of tinkering and more money that I'd have liked to spend on gas, we gave up. It seems the power tiller is also a write-off.
Fortunately, my brother isn't afraid of hard work and tilled the entire garden (about 18ftx8ft) using a pickaxe that we also found on our property. While the men worked on tilling, I sanded and stained the picnic table that's been sitting in our front yard since we moved in:
Now we have a place to eat if the wind ever dies down. And, you know, if are gardening skills can be honed enough to produce anything edible.
So far, here it is:
We've planted an artichoke and onions and are just praying at this point.
We started with the herbs. Had to fix the trough. Had to sand and stain. Then we got the dirt in and planted the herbs. The problem? We didn't really know when to plant and our basil is probably a write-off. That's it on the left.
Next step, the actual garden. We cleared away topsoil and put stakes in the ground and were ready for the power tiller.
After about an hour of tinkering and more money that I'd have liked to spend on gas, we gave up. It seems the power tiller is also a write-off.
Fortunately, my brother isn't afraid of hard work and tilled the entire garden (about 18ftx8ft) using a pickaxe that we also found on our property. While the men worked on tilling, I sanded and stained the picnic table that's been sitting in our front yard since we moved in:
Now we have a place to eat if the wind ever dies down. And, you know, if are gardening skills can be honed enough to produce anything edible.
So far, here it is:
We've planted an artichoke and onions and are just praying at this point.
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