Kris and I worked like dogs in the yard this weekend, and the gardens are beginning to take shape. Here are some photos of our progress.

Remember that when we purchased the house, the land included 120 rose bushes in four separate beds. We knew right away that this bed, on the south side of the house, would eventually be converted to a vegetable garden:

Last weekend we invited friends and family to come dig roses and azaleas and rhododendrons. The day was cold and wet and grey, but everyone came, and when the dust had settled, we were left with half as many roses. The south bed was essentially empty, and ready for use. (This bed is nine feet wide and about fifty-two feet long, or about 468 square feet.)

First, Kris spread two yards of manure and compost across the bed.

When she had finished, I prepared the far end for blueberries. Blueberries like well-drained acidic soil. I added 7.6 cubic feet of peat moss (to an area roughly 150 square feet in size) and about a pound of aluminum sulfate. (If that chemical is wrong, I'm sure Kris will correct me.)

From Mike, our neighbor at the bottom of the hill, I borrowed an eight horsepower behemoth of a rototiller. That monster dragged me along behind it, chewing the ground like it was only so much dust. After half an hour of violent effort, I calmed my nerves by spending an equal amount of time raking the ground flat. (There had been a couple dozen holes and pits from where plants were removed from the ground.) In the end, our vegetable garden was ready to use.

In the center of the vegetable garden, we planted some winter produce. Kris had planted some onion sets at the end of July. To these, I added thirty-six spinach plants and eighteen assorted lettuces. We've never had much luck with salad greens in the past, and we're a little late setting them out for winter, but we still have high hopes that they'll produce well here.

The big job this weekend, though, was installing the berry patch. I dug the sod several weeks ago, but I've been putting off the rest of the job ever since. I knew it was going to be a lot of work. And it was.

To begin with, I amended the soil — which, since it was under lawn for so long, we believe to be rather mediocre — with a bit of top soil and some peat moss. A few passes with the monster rototiller and the beds were fluffy, ready for planting.

I've been asking friends and googling for information on constructing berry trellises. Each source seems to have something different to say, and is certain that its information is correct. This led me to believe that it really didn't matter how I constructed my trellis, so long as I followed the basic form.

John, our garrulous neighbor from across the street, was impressed with our efforts, and he offered his scrap wood. (He's been collecting the stuff for forty years.) I took him up on this, salvaging bits of a telephone pole (and other stuff) for posts. These posts are roughly eight feet long. I wanted to set them three feet into the ground, but the digging knocked me out, so I settle for two feet. They seem fairly sturdy, though I wish I'd had the gumption for deeper holes. For the support rails, I used the trunks from the volunteer locust trees that I cut down in August. I drilled holes through the trunks and routed the wire through them. (For wire, I'm simply using coated clothesline.) After I'd erected the trellis, I planted the caneberries.

I planted six caneberries: a "thornless, non-invasive" blackberry (variety unknown — I've misplaced the tag), a boysenberry and a marionberry (both of which are technically varieties of blackberry), a blackcap raspberry, and two raspberries of unknown variety, supplied by Pam. When I'd planted the berries, I discovered that the blackcap raspberry wasn't a blackcap raspberry at all; it was a 'Waldo' blackberry that had found its way into the blackcaps at the nursery. Drat.

The berry patch comprises two beds, both of which are three feet wide by twenty-four feet long. As you can tell from these photos, the clothesline isn't taut yet. It's merely strung up to indicate its correct location. I'll stretch it tight when I do the same for the yet-to-be-built grape trellis. Note that the caneberries are planted in great mounds, sort of individual raised beds. This is the Preferred Method, or so I'm told. (It's also the Preferred Method for blueberries, and possibly for grapes.)

We've also nearly completed our orchard. We've planted our Anjou/Bartlett two-way pear and our Italian prune. This weekend we purchased our Jonagold apple. (I chose this variety because I loved the apples in Joel and Aimee's backyard.) However, when I was gathering plant tags last night, I discovered that we had inadvertently purchased a Jonathan apple; it, too, had managed to find its way into a bunch of a different variety at the nursery. Drat. (Fortunately, Jonathan sounds like a good apple for me: firm, tart, and sweet, good for baking and eating.)

We were all glad when Sunday evening came and the work was over. Simon celebrated by drinking from the birdbath.

We have one last push before the garden is complete for the winter. I have to erect the grape trellis (a near-mirror of the berry trellis), get the apple into the ground, and then do miscellaneous clean-up tasks.

Our plants won't be productive next year, but in 2006 we'll have a bounty!

On this day at foldedspace.org

2005 — The Seven Wonders of the Internet   I sometimes speak of The Seven Wonders of the Internet, but I had never tried to enumerate them before tonight. At dinner, Kris and I brainstormed candidates. We came up short.

2003 — Crater Lake   In which we photograph Crater Lake.

2002 — Candle in the Wind   We chatted for several hours, during which time Aimee said that she could never keep a weblog because she’d end up writing about candles.