It was a serious garden.
The summer after The Girl was born was our last garden. She was such a demanding baby that the garden was neglected and huge weeds took over. We raised the white flag and surrendered. No more garden for us.
Two summers ago, I bought a couple of beefsteak tomato plants and planted four hills of zucchini. It just so happened to be a summer when nobody got much out their gardens. We harvested four undersized tomatoes, and three zucchini.
I decided to finally take the old compost heap apart and make a garden out of it and some extra ground next to it.
So, I dismantled the compost pile frame Saturday and pulled two 30-gal trash bags full of weeds. I started early Sunday to dig up the new space for the extended garden plot. Suddenly I hit something really hard - concrete? No, bricks!
I got That Man and The Boy out there and we dug up a huge pile of bricks! Bricks neatly laid out like a small patio, about four inches below grade. All level and laid straight with a careful limestone border. No more! All piled up, ready to be hauled away.
So I finished digging the area, and That Man got out the Mantis Tiller, and it all came to screeching halt.
He worked on the tiller all afternoon and couldn't get it to run. It would start, but not run. Ugh. I guess I'll have to either break it all up by hand with a hoe, or borrow Dad's monster of a Troy-Bilt for this little 10' x 10' garden.
What possessed me?