Why Having a Garden is Better Than a Puppy

When Andrew and I were house hunting back in August, we had one main qualification: we wanted a house with a backyard. Our reasoning was that we were planning on getting a dog, and life would be much easier if Sunny (our imaginary golden retriever) had some space to run and play.

The idea of having a dog quickly turned into other things, and soon I was talking about getting some chickens and a rabbit and maybe a small pig I could say "that'll do" to. Then Andrew reminded me that I would have to take care of all of those animals and probably exercise all of them, and I got a bit too selfish and was worried about life not actually being like Babe: Pig in the City, and well, for the time being, I've abandoned my hopes for a pet. I blame it on the Georgia humidity. Animals or people shouldn't have to live in this kind of weather.

Anyway, we decided to use the space in our backyard for the next best thing: a vegetable garden.

So for the past 6 months or so, we have been placing our food scraps in this lovely container:






Then, when the bucket was full, we would dump it behind this little fence:


It was our own, beautiful, lovely, hand-made compost pile -- complete with yard clippings, egg shells and rotten fruit.






So a couple of weeks ago, when our compost was finally decomposed enough to use, and it was no longer raining, and I could convince Andrew to build a giant wooden box on his day off, we set about constructing our garden.



Andrew doesn't normally wear such stellar shades...


But he had LASIK surgery the week before and was required to wear these glasses anytime he went outside. He wasn't too keen on my trying to capture his goggle glory, so he threw his hands all up in my space.


Chill, four-eyes.

The next obstacle to our vegetable haven was finding a way to back Andrew's truck in through a gate in our backyard. Perhaps the ordeal may have gone smoother had one of us not had recent eye surgery...


After our semi-blind driving efforts, and a lot of hard work on Andrew's part, we mixed the soil, compost and a bit of fertilizer to create this little home.


Then Andrew and I had a brief discussion in Home Depot as to why I needed to buy the more expensive Martha Stewart seeds when they were probably the exact same as the off-brand ones, to which I took great offense and said gravely, "because they are Martha Stewart seeds, Andrew, and I will own every product with her name on it."

Plus, I like to imagine these are the seeds from her actual garden...




Then I ran out of these cute little labeling sticks and had to go steal some Starbucks stir sticks to finish off the job. I'm assuming Starbucks would only be too happy to donate to my earth progressive farming...


And in the end, we planted herbs...


And vegetables...


And basically more herbs and more vegetables.

With the garden finally assembled and my little seeds planted, I can't help but feel like we made the right choice in postponing our animal raising days until a later time. At least a garden doesn't require too much attention to keep alive. I believe I can manage a garden.

I really do think this...that is, until I remember back to last year.



I forget that it was only last summer that I had my beautiful and lush basil and parsley plants that I kept in the window sill of our apartment in Augusta. The plants were strong and thriving and supplied their leaves for many an omelet and soup.

But now I remember their former glory with a slight chill, and I need only glance over my shoulder at my present location at our fledgling garden to see my basil plant's current condition.



And now I'm certain I made the right choice in not getting a dog, but I'm worried I'm not fit to take care of anything: plant, animal, vegetable, or mineral-related.



I can only assume this means small humans as well...