“Can we have a garden? My bride’s question caught me off guard. We’ve not had a garden for 25 years, not since we moved to this house.
“No!” was my emphatic reply. I wasn’t about to dig up the lawn for a garden; plus our rapidly expanding maple trees provided too much shade for there to be any good garden space.
At our last home, we did have a garden. This was partly because it came with one and because anything we could do to stretch our food budget was a good thing.
The garden took a lot of work, which I think fell mostly to me. The toil required for a nice garden was not a surprise; as a child I’d seen the hours my dad spent on his, but then he enjoyed it — I do not. It was fun to plant and fun to pick, but everything else was a chore, which I was glad to skip.
My wife was not dissuaded by my total lack of support. A few days later she proudly announced she’d planted beans in her flower garden, a small spot under our picture window. She normally plants annuals there; this year, she diverted the space for her micro-garden.
About a week later, I saw the beginnings of plants, a nice straight row of delicate tiny sprouts. They were definitely not beans.
“Oh, I planted beets, too,” she beamed.
Later the beans popped up and the rabbits quickly found them, gnawing some plants down the ground.
The Internet suggested human hair would serve as an effective bunny-be-gone. That night I was given a haircut. I don’t know how long the scent will remain on my hair to repel the rabbits, but I hope it’s a couple weeks, giving my hair time to grow enough to produce the next crop of bunny repellent.