Starting Over in the Garden

“Garden as though you’ll live forever.” — William Kent

One of life’s greatest joys is sinking our hands into loose, fertile soil and planting or harvesting something we grew ourselves. And there’s not much I enjoy more than stepping outside of my kitchen door to snip a few fragrant herbs to throw in the pot to liven up a meal.

No matter where I’ve lived, whether apartment or house, I’ve always tried to at least have flowers and some tomatoes. Some places, my plots would stretch to accommodate even corn. In others, I’d lay out a constellation of containers of various sizes and shapes, depending on space and budget.

My last home spoiled me. The house was small, but the yard was luxurious and could grow just about anything. I had a large compost pile for clippings, fallen branches, and even worms left over from family fishing expeditions. A strawberry patch bordered a small pond, in which fragrant water mint and irises grew alongside the fish and pet turtle.

In addition to the usual tomatoes and zucchini, I grew tomatillos, beets, carrots, corn, beans, peas, chard and anything I wanted in my veggie patch. And off to the side of the back door, I had a raised bed for herbs, lettuce and beets, and flower gardens were scattered around our double-lot property.

It looks like a hot mess, but this plot provided years of enjoyment and healthy meals.

New Digs Mean Digging Something New

Fast-forward to now and we’re settling into our new home in Pittsburgh, where the yard is smaller with more shade, plus a deck that gets lots of afternoon sun. The soil is rocky, hard to dig. And we have a herd of deer that, although majestic to watch moving between our neighborhood’s homes at sunset, are a gardener’s nightmare.

At first, I thought, well, new city, new me. Maybe I’ll want to do something different with my time.

But let’s be real. I need to grow stuff. Just … differently. My backyard is half-hill, and we put up a fence around the flat part to keep our dog in and to deter the local gang of deer.

Smack in the middle of the hill is a gorgeous mature silver maple. I have mixed feelings about that tree.

We moved here in early October, so I know some of the sun-shade pattern and have mused on it throughout the long, snowy Pittsburgh winter. The tree shades most of the yard in the afternoon. Unfortunately, the house shades most of the yard in the morning. Fortunately, the left side of the yard gets a slice of sun, and the deck gets good afternoon light. Plus, although I oriented myself toward full-sun choices at the old place, now I can lean into plants that like more shade.

Maybe my cabbages will grow better here, and my root veggies might be happier.

To start with, I put a raised herb bed and a few other containers on the deck to catch that brightness and filled them up with quality dirt. In the yard itself, I’m working with a large modular container from Vegogarden that my partner gifted to me. There are actually two of them, but they take a LOT of dirt and I no longer have my compost pile to get it for free. The second one will have to wait. Also, there’s a narrow strip of dirt to the left of my sidewalk in the front of my house that I want to sneak some herbs into, as well as some bright annuals.

Getting the Big One Ready

The Vegogarden container is a beast in the best possible way. It’s modular, and I chose the simplest configuration — one long plot.

Filling it is no small thing, though. Quality dirt is expensive, and without my old compost pile, I can’t just wheel over as many barrowfuls as I need. So I started with a layer of rocks I picked up so I wouldn’t mow over them, sticks, plain brown paper bags, and lots of the cardboard boxes left over from moving. This is my version of the hügelkultur technique. The sticks and paper break down slowly, retain moisture, and create air pockets that help the roots breathe. Quality soil goes on top. We filled it halfway, dumped in two 22-pound bags of dirt, and the dirt sank to just above the branches. Maybe it is a beast. A hungry one.

As for the second container, I’m leaving that decision for later. Once I see how the light moves through the yard over a full season, I’ll know where it belongs and what to put in it. There’s no rush. The garden will tell me what it needs.
— Josie Byzek

Come Grow with Us on Patreon

If you enjoyed this, there’s more where it came from. Over on our Patreon, I’m posting regular updates from my new garden as the season unfolds — what I’m planting, what’s working, what the deer got, and what I’m trying next.

We’re also putting together a growing library of practical gardening guides covering weeding, pests, thinning seedlings, and physical supports for your plants.

Come join us on Patreon.