A Dirty Confession

I rent. I bet you didn't see that coming...
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I rent. I bet you didn’t see that coming.

I’m lucky to have an outstanding and up-for-anything landlord that thinks all of this is a hoot. Doesn’t mind the compost bins, rain barrels, patio removal, a completely fenced backyard (it was previously a free-range backyard). But, it’s crazy, right? A full-on garden in a rental?

It gets crazier. When I move the garden moves with me. Moving is hard enough but moving a garden every few years is traumatic for all involved—ME and the GARDEN.

But the craziest part? I rent, I’ve only lived here for 14 months and, drum roll please,

I’ve committed my garden to be on the local garden walk this year. I warned you it was crazy. You can feel free to assess my sanity level. I’m telling you it’s okay to judge me on this fact. You’d probably come up with a fair assessment: Total over-achiever wanna-be nut job.

But what a difference 10 months makes... Maybe I can make it happen before the garden walk in June?

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