how the signs survived the winter
When we rebuilt our vegetable garden in February of 2013, I made signs for the new beds. Unnecessary, I know, but I wanted to give each of them a name. The names came from qualities in the wood used to make the boxes (wavy edges on cedar boards or a long ovoid knot) or for the plants in that bed (garlic; and there’s also the Raspberry Vestibule and Raspberry Beret, where, guess what, the raspberry canes are planted) or for some other feature that came to mind (Old Deck, for the source of the wood for one bed; Postbox, for another, made of old railing 4×4 posts leftover when we replaced the railings on the upper deck with metal). There’s Long Barrow and Thin Deck. And the flower borders around the edges which are still unnamed. But give me time. Anyway, I thought the acrylic paint I used for the signs might fade over the winter but it didn’t. I wish my graphic skills were a bit more sophisticated. And it’s so wonderful to be able to work in the garden again, to see the robins hovering just behind me to feast on the worms dug up as I weed the beds, and to tuck the little sprouted pea seeds into the furrows. (I sprout them inside and plant them out when they’re about three inches high. Otherwise, birds pluck them from the ground just as they sprout and eat the tiny fresh tendril, leaving a hollow seed behind.) The floor around the woodstove is cluttered with pots of sprouting spinach, miner’s lettuce, tomatoes, and a few more trays of peas. And the sun is shining.