What can be more deeply suburban than lush green lawns? Mr. D*S has developed a surprising affinity for lawn care. Who knew? We applaud his efforts, especially if it leads to this kind of fun:
(This photo was taken in '08, our first summer here.)
I am more concerned about flowers and salad, so this part of the backyard is especially mine. As a gardening novice, I am taking it slow and easy. It has filled in a little more this summer:
I never dreamed vegetables could get so out-of-control and sprawling. The cherry tomatoes, the ones we could reach, were a revelation. Arugula, tarragon, parsley, basil and radishes were terrific, the lettuce less so. Next year we hope to grow some better varieties from seed and I'll know better than to crowd everything in together like that. Also the bricks must go. They are far too tippy.
This is the very spot that I took a tumble in July, losing my balance while gathering baby arugula leaves for a salad. Annmarie next door must have heard me cursing, because she asked if I was OK. "Oh sure, fine," I gasped. "Just got the wind knocked out of me." Except that I developed the strangest case of indigestion two days later. Three days (and a lot of antacid) after that, I was so uncomfortable lying down that I had to sleep in the Lazyboy I inherited from my Dad. Finally, pain, excruciating middle-of-the-night pain, convinced me that an ambulance was in order. Several hours later, lying in the hospital corridor, I remembered the fall out of my garden. I went home 10 hours later with a diagnosis of a fractured rib and fluid in the lungs, and a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers.