The Digger

Our front yard has gone from grassy lawn to meadow garden with my favorite flower, lavender, throughout. After a getaway to Calistoga, I am inspired by the vast vineyards. Who wouldn't be, right? I currently have about a dozen grape vines already dispersed throughout the property but it would be a good use of space and sun to add in rows of grapevines too. Whenever I work in the front yard, my neighbors and those that have their morning walks around the blocks check out what I am doing. They usually ask what I am digging up now. For all the amount of sod I dug up, my mom cringes at the loss for the boys to play on. My dad usually helps by picking up the high piles of it. I cannot count how many 5-gallon buckets of old sod we have removed. It is weedy anyway. I call myself, "The Digger." My friend down the street, whenever she drives by and sees me out there with my shovel, she yells out, "Digging again??" Yup, it's just what I do. Even the mailman asked me once why I like digging so much. I like it. It's therapeutic. I feel good and it's exercise. I may not see the immediate results of my efforts, but when the flowers bloom, or a half-dead plant comes back to life, I know I did well.