In the Garden

I come to the garden alone. While the dew is still on the roses. And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses. 

       There was a cute saying on Pinterest the other day that people who work are only people that don’t know how to garden. Amen. I have learned so much in this short time, but I know my learning is not, by any means, over.

In February, I came to Puerto Rico with my dad and big brother. At that time, I took some pictures of the back of the front and back of my grandparents’ house. Their “yards”, if you will. Now, I need to preface this with a few key points. Some have said that I make it sound like we live in a third world country. I do not mean to do that. We do not live in anything like that at all. However, it must be remembered that we live with two eighty-year-olds who have lived in the same house, with few changes, for decades. Some of our circumstances, like no agua caliente in our casita are not circumstances of the island; they are circumstances of this property. It would be completely different if we came and built a casa y jardín from scratch, but we didn’t. In my opinion, what we have is much more challenging. We must bring back to life that which has been neglected for muchos años. And, we must get permission from two “change-is-bad” personalities before we do any of it!

Years ago, my grandfather decided to keep certain parts of the soil contained and pour concrete over the rest of the yard. That decision has made my dream of a relaxing haven muy difícil. It’s hard to make concrete and old tires look lively.

John and I began with an old raised bed that housed blocks of cement from the builders of our bano and a hurting avocado tree. I hand-picked and John shoveled until the majority of the rocky mess was gone. We were so excited to see dirt that we didn’t read a word of instruction or change a bit of soil before we planted. We planted herbs, eggplant, pepper, and marigolds. Eh, you live and you learn.

We maintained the clean-up process by sweeping the leaves every few days, and checking on the plants. However, we didn’t actually know what “checking on the plants” looked like. After three book downloads on the Kindle and A LOT of websites and articles, we have created a successful compost, dug up the folks in the raised bed that didn’t make it, and helped our soil along (as that determines success!).

Tomato and Rosemary

Mosquito Fighter

Peppers

In phase two, we planted several things: tomato, rosemary, a plant to help fight mosquitoes, and peppers. We began to tend to the hurting avocado, lemon, and mango trees; although it seems we’ve missed avocado season this year.

As of this morning, we’re proud, but not finished. We have since planted some parsley, more tomato, thyme and strawberries using transplants. We have planted broccoli, dill, basil, squash, and garlic using seeds or the vegetables themselves. We finally weeded the back and treated the soil by the big tree to create a mini boxed garden, and I’m working on learning how to utilize the many containers that are out there not holding anything. In the plans, we want to paint the wall, the tires, and the old pots bright and fun colors.

Fun colors for Grandma

Strawberries are the transplants, garlics are the 4 tall strands, and squash is in the back
working it's way to the surface!

Two tomato plants and rosemary

Dill from seed

Broccoli from seed

Thyme, parsley, and moquito fighter

Basil from seed...look hard! :)

Box garden from the beginning, but revamped!

In the "before" pictures, all of the old potted plants were on that square block.
John made that bench.

The avocado tree. It's happier, so maybe next year!

Compost

 Despite the gray of the ground, it is becoming an oasis. A peaceful place to ponder. John and I have spent hours in it both together and separate. Sometimes we are shoveling, pulling, and sweating in the heat. Others we are thinking, reading, or sleeping on the swing. It may not look like much in the pictures yet, but through the rollercoaster ride of the past two months, God is there. 

And He walks with me. And He talks with me. And He tells me I am His own. And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.