Hammer and a Nail

I was so obsessed with the Indigo Girls during my early teenage years that I couldn't fathom ever not being obsessed with them. I remember my high school guitar teacher--always trying to get me more interested and invested in music theory--asking me how I would know it was the Indigo Girls if I heard a new song of theirs on the radio one day. He wanted me to describe the sound of their music, the style that made their songs theirs. But I was so hung-up on the impossibility of the suggestion: an Indigo Girls song that I didn't already know?! that I couldn't answer the question. In truth, this exact scenario has played out many times for me. I haven't even listened to the last several Indigo Girls' albums, and I haven't seen them live since 1997. So I often hear a song on the radio (or my new favorite: Pandora) and think, "is that Amy Ray singing? Is this an Indigo Girls song?" and reflect back on that conversation with my teacher and feel a bit wistful for my 16-year-old self and all of her convictions and devotion. But it is funny, now that I am playing my guitar so much these days, given the current role of the Indigo Girls in my life (non-existent), that all I know how to play are Indigo Girls songs. Of course, I can play just about anything with lyrics and chords in front of me, but the songs that I remember--that my fingers mysteriously seem to recall all on their own--are all Indigo Girls songs. And so that is mostly what I play. And I especially love to play their song, "Hammer and a Nail," because it contains the one bit of guitar tab that I ever memorized (and that likely my children will have permanently stuck in their heads due to how frequently I pluck it out), and so it's especially fun.

Clearing webs from the hovel
a blistered hand on the handle of a shovel
I've been digging too deep, I always do.
I see my face on the surface
I look a lot like narcissus
A dark abyss of an emptiness
Standing on the edge of a drowning blue . . .

This weekend I spent quite a bit of time getting out of my head and using my hands (and humming this song), and it felt so very good. My Love and I together worked to put in some raised beds in our backyard for our vegetable garden. This was a task that required the invocation of the FBTSOYP Fence Company, and an eventual acceptance that perfection was not our goal.

We had never built raised beds before, and would have been at a loss as to where to even begin if it weren't for the fact that our yard is mostly shaded (by four surprisingly grand, coniferous trees). So we knew where the garden had to go (in the one mostly sunny spot), and with limited space, there were limited design possibilities. I say this--that the possibilities were limited--but, in truth, I didn't feel especially limited at first. I had a vision of a circular garden of raised beds (a half-dozen trapezoids) with a stone patio in the center, and I felt relatively certain that we could make it happen. My mother was my sole supporter (this is no surprise to me, for she is the source of all my grandiose planning genes, plus she designed a really amazing raised-bed garden at her old house), and everyone else thought I was insane. Ultimately, I conceded: maybe I was just a little insane. We decided to keep things simple and make two regular rectangles instead.

Even still, two rectangles would require what amount of lumber? And we would put them together how? We marked out the beds (one 3' x 16', the other 4' x 16') with stakes and rope and did some math to figure out how much wood we would need. We decided to make our raised beds extra tall in hopes of keeping out predators (namely, one small plant destroyer named Leo), and we decided that we didn't need to splurge on fancy wood: if our beds only last 5 years, that's OK. (Honestly, I don't let myself think ahead more than 5 years into the future anyway since that would involve incorporating teenagers into any plan or vision.)

Stake and String Beds-to-be

wood at the ready

But even after we had selected the wood at the local lumber shop, and had it cut to size (how cool is it that they will do that for you? Free of charge?), and had our friend Gaby drive it home to us in her pickup truck, and unloaded it all onto the lawn, I sat around for the better part of an hour lamenting over how to begin. This is when getting back to the FBTSOYP mindset came in handy. Once we remembered that we didn't need for things to turn out perfectly, the whole project felt much more doable.

And thankfully, the kids were rather agreeable to our benign neglect all day, allowing us many hours of hard labor with minimal interruptions.

Leo, sleeping in the stroller beside us

Zeb at the water table

Jaz in the hammock

Luke in the sandbox

Me, with a hammer and a nail

My Love, digging a trench
(and Leo, sucking on nails)

The finished beds are definitely a bit wonky, but we are pretty pleased with them regardless, and I don't doubt their ability to hold dirt (oh my, we are going to need a lot of good dirt), which is really all that will be required of them.

the view from our 2nd story bedroom window

Oh the vegetables we will Grow!

My hands are blistered and my arms are sunburned and it feels fabulous. Almost as fabulous as it feels to be making this little backyard dream slowly turn into a reality.

I've been thinking about all of the questions I've received thus far on my Ask Me Anything post, and I'm excited to start answering them; some of them are really great! There is still time to ask more, I will leave the comments section open until Tuesday night. Thanks!