And So It Begins

My husband, my dog, and I moved to our property 2 years ago.  Finally, after 18 nomadic years living in towns and cities across western Canada, we found a little piece of semi-wilderness we could call our own.  I’d dabbled in gardening before; when we moved from one place to another we left each property a little greener than we found it.  For example, when we moved to our previous home the yard was lawn.  Just lawn. This is what it looked like when we sold it:

But I never had the chance to really dig in, to exercise my inner farmer.  When we found this perfect but imperfect property with its perfect but imperfectly large house a fire was lit.  Not just from a spark in the woodstove in the basement, either.  I was ex-cit-ed. There was a bit of land here.  I could do something with it.  We moved in at the end of January and gave little thought to the heaps of snow covering everything.  What would be revealed when spring punched winter in the face and released the dirt from its icy grip?  That’s what I wanted to know.

Spring revealed clay.

Clay in the front yard, clay in the side yard, clay in the back yard, and clay in the back 4 (a smaller version of “the back 40” acres).  Clay on our boots, clay on our work clothes, clay under the dog’s nails (Scout loves a good muckabout),

...and therefore, clay all through the house.

But spring also revealed grass, a large garden area, some established perennials, and  a lot of potential.  It would work.  My vision was born.  Here I could grow a “real” garden, a big one like my mom and dad had when I was a kid.  Here I could build flower beds to beat the band.  Here I could watch moose out my living room window, put up bird feeders, find snowshoe hare tracks, and look out at trees instead of people.  And here, one day, I could even maybe, possibly, hopefully, have ... Chickens.

And so began the adventure.  An adventure that would take me up to towering vistas, down to deep dark valleys, that would lead to the vanquishing of my foes, and endless toil, heartbreak, blood, sweat and...  No, no, sorry.  Nothing so exciting as that.  Just the humdrum day-to-day adventures of life on Clay Swamp Acres.

But don’t worry.  There will be foes.