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Felix Culpa

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My First Spring at Orchard House

My First Spring at Orchard House

Last updated on: May 17, 2016 at 9:12 pm by

My First Spring at Orchard House 2016-05-17T21:12:00-07:00

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Scouting out the neighbors’ chickens. Love our hair!

I knew living here would be a lot of work, if I didn’t want to live on two acres of weeds and dirt. It is a project, for sure. But I’m realizing that we don’t have to get it the way we want it in the first spring. In fact, that’s impossible – financially and physically.

So, while many beautiful and constructive things are happening at Orchard House, the truth is that it’s a work in progress. Some parts of the property are overgrown with weeds and look completely neglected (because they are, and have been for years before we moved in at the end of last summer). Others are green and lush and gorgeous. Some are a mixture of both because I can’t seem to get around to weeding every little flower patch. But the flowers are hardy and blossom in spite of the weeds, and so we have a mishmash of chaos and beauty in places here and there.

I grew up on a mini-farm with a huge garden. I’ve said in the past that as a kid, I gardened, but the truth is that I weeded.

Pluck, pluck, pluck.

That’s all.

Wild flowers and “on purpose” flowers!

I don’t know how to grow tomatoes, strawberries, fruit trees, or begonias. Also, I hate to research. So when I went to the nursery last week, I didn’t google anything. I just waltzed in, chose the plants I thought would be pretty, or taste yummy, and left. As a result, I’ve created a little more work than I realized. I meant to have a small, 3×4 strawberry patch. But I purchase an entire flat, and then learned they require 18 inches spacing (hehee!). So – we will instead have a 6×12 strawberry patch. That’s a lot of weed pulling and turning over of soil, but I’m hoping it will be worth it.

This begs the question that my neighbor asked me:

“If you can’t eat strawberries, why are you planting them?”

Because I was planting in cold, wet weather when she asked, I said through chattering teeth, “That’s the exact same question I just asked myself. Seems rather odd, eh?”

She was expressionless and waited for an answer.

I shrugged.

“I guess I figure if I’m going to take that attitude, I’d never make dinner or bake a pie, either, and that seems kind of ridiculous since I am, by profession, a homemaker.”

Cultivating a strawberry patch, or digging a grave: you decide. 🙂

Everyone has aspects of their job that they don’t like, but I can’t even say I loathe cooking, baking, and growing food. I can dislike cooking pretty quickly if I spend hours a day doing it, but I don’t. I love to bake (once in a while), because my people love to eat baked goods (once in a while), and it’s a way for me to show them they’re my favorite people. And I love to garden, because there’s just something about getting outside and rolling in the dirt that is therapeutic. It’s productive. It’s thinking, and therefore writing time. It’s a way to get the vitamin D that I desperately need. I much prefer gardening in the sun than laying in the sun thinking long, skinny thoughts my prone-to-wander heart will conjure up. Point is, though cooking, baking, and gardening are not solely for my benefit, I am still allowed to enjoy – maybe even relish – in them.

Hmmmm …. what goes into relish? Maybe I’ll have to grow my own pickles and whatever else is in that stuff.

Anyway. So far, we’ve planted raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, and tomorrow, I’ll be planting the strawberries. Today, me, Shaun, and Andrew cultivated the strawberry patch, which was back breaking without a rototiller, but it’s done and ready and that’s what matters. That’s as far as our food supply goes this year. As for non-food plants, I’ve planted some perennials, a few annuals, and I’ve relocated some irises that were growing in an odd formation. No idea if I did it right, but time will tell. I can get my undies in a wad about doing things just so, because I was raised to be a perfectionist, but Shaun keeps reminding me to not stress about it, and to just enjoy the process.

Last weekend, he took me to a used bookstore. While he was making a purchase, I kept browsing and found a book on gardening. Inside was this quote:

Don’t garden for your neighbor.

Good advice. In a way, I am gardening for my neighbor, because I’d love to take them some strawberry jam. But the point is … relax. Enjoy. And if you don’t get all the weeds pulled, the Jones family will just have to exercise some patience.

Thankfully, we get along splendidly with our neighbors. They are laid back when it comes to whatever we want to do with our property, and likewise, we are fine with whatever they want to do. That’s the beauty of living out of town. No covenants. No demand for perfection. Country living allows you to breathe, chuck persnickety rules, and be creative on your own timeline, in whatever way suits your family’s needs.

I love it here.

Orchard House is not a perfect place. It’s certainly not Heaven or anywhere near Heaven. But perhaps it is a little slice of the life to come: the beauty of hard work and the fruit of labor (I believe we will work on the other side!), God’s handiwork, peaceful scenery, and swell neighbors. Surely all of those things will be in Heaven, yes?

And more. Yes.

Until I reach my forever home, I am grateful for this home. Work, sweat, tears, joy, laughter, struggles, growth. It’s all here, inside and out. On the property and in the people. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Auggie’s first reaction to seeing the bear Andrew got me for Mother’s Day: a kiss!

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