All weekend I’ve been memorizing seed catalogs and nursery websites, obsessing over what to buy for this year’s garden and where to plant it all. In a fit of especially high-pitched mania I ordered a variety of tomato that costs $8.70 for 10 seeds! If these tomatoes induce half the euphoria the catalog claims, well, 87 cents a seed will have been a shrewd investment.
But most of the mental gasoline has burned up over the question of layout. I have a gorgeous fenced area to work with, but not all the intended plants will fit inside. Many will have to be cast into the badlands where stalk the throngs of hollow-eyed zombie deer. There are some plants deer don’t actually enjoy devastating–daffodils, currants, alliums (the evening-gown Latin name for onions & garlic)–so those will go out in the open. The most toothsome tenders are the ones who must take shelter behind the fence.
Behind the fence. I used to live in a place where the phrase “behind the fence” referred to the top secret section of a nuclear weapons laboratory, guarded by mercenaries equipped with machine guns and armored vehicles. That was some impressive paranoia. There must have been really nice lettuces and strawberries back there to justify that level of security.
