What does it take to grow something worthwhile?
In 1971 my family moved to a three-acre property off a gravel road. The place was a bit of a fixer-upper. Once upon a time, an area across the yard from the house had been a huge vegetable garden, years of neglect had left it overrun with thorny weeds as tall as a man. The high, bending labyrinth of grass crawled with the usual suspects–mice, rabbits, and snakes. I couldn’t imagine such a mess ever supplying anything for anyone to eat–unless it was a plate of poison ivy.
This was going to be a family project. We started by clearing the garden by burning off layers of dead vegetation and then pulling weeds. And more weeds. We hauled them off in wheelbarrows and garbage bags. Only a cratered, brown square remained. And then my dad showed up with an odd-looking machine that had a round spinning head on it, studded with curved spikes—a rototiller….
