The Spite Garden

Weeks ago, on the precipice of national closures and panic buying paper-products, Brett came home from work concerned about job security and finances. My weddings were scooting farther and farther into the year and rumor was that his company was looking for people to kick to the curb. Despite Brett and his team of 3 being the only structures department that the company has in the entire US, which I thought seemed like a perfectly good reason not to worry about losing his job, Brett needed to "stay in his lane."
He voiced concerns, wondered about our collective savings and took no amusement from my genuine offer to sell it all and live in a van. He thinks I wouldn't actually like it. I think he's probably right but I still really want to try. Regardless, my perpetually sunny giant lost sight of his buoyant outlook.
I said all the things one should say when their spouse worries about made up things like careers and currency. In my efforts to polish the Big Guy's optimism I became miffed by the inadequacy of my argument. In a final stroke of genius I suggested we start a garden, "That's a few less things to buy at the grocery store!" I proclaimed.

If there is one thing Brett loves, it's projects. I knew that the suggestion of something involving manual labor that he could find ways to make even more painstaking would brighten his day in an instant. In addition to this, we have long talked of growing things when the time is right and we have the space, etc. I reveled in the wonder of my most perfect suggestion. I thought Brett was lucky to have married someone who knew just how to fix his blues.

Brett crapped all over my garden idea. The concept did not make him feel better and moreover, he doubted my ability to grow things. As a proud previous employee of a farm where I did not work the land, I took great offense. Many things flushed through my mind, the main one being shock that Brett would poo-poo an idea of mine at all because he's usually quite eager for me to do things. His suggestion that a garden would "not be what you think it is" really didn't make much sense to me but I could tell by the tone that I should be defensive about the relative ease making plants grow. I wondered if it was a subtle jab at my capabilities and then the tables turned and it was my optimism that needed polishing.
Unbeknownst to Brett, the moment he doubted me I knew I'd be starting a garden that very next day.  It was not about saving money at the grocery store. It was about proving him wrong. Admittedly, he apologized promptly after his tomato tantrum but it was too late. I had already taken offense on behalf of my own insecurities.

As soon as Brett left for work the next morning I went out and bought a handful of baby food plants, a touch of vegetable fertilizer, and later, online, some 15 gallon grow bags and some tubing for a drip-irrigation setup. I documented the moving of the plants from their tiny pots into some larger pots and posted my rant on Lux's Instagram where it was met with much understanding from married couples far and wide. People love the Spite Garden and frequently ask me for updates.
Since the initial planting day, I transplanted our veggies into the grow bags (bigger and deeper than the pots I had on hand during the rage planting) and successfully installed an irrigation system into each one. This bit was less out of spite and more out of my own curiosity.
So I sat back and waited for the Big guy to get home. And he did come home, all cheerful and giant-like and then I pointed out the window at our new garden. He looked silently for but a moment, a slight curl quivered on one side of his lips and then he smiled at me and carried on with his evening.
The quiver was my participation trophy. The real prize would come when Mother Nature was ready. That night, as I drifted off, Brett whispered his consent through the dark. He liked the Spite Garden.

Weeks have passed and the vengeance is burgeoning. My tomato plants feel prodigious and my squash blossoms are a prideful yellow. We haven't gotten any edible veggies yet mind you, but they're on the vine, doing their veggie thing. Brett delights in the garden and checks on it frequently with me. He loves it so much that he even got in on the action this week and planted some hot peppers. He's adorably excited about them.

Quarantine Projects

In an unexpected turn of events, this has been a very productive time here at Black Pig Farms. In addition to leisurely cooking, lots of reading, and riding bikes in this unseasonably Spring-like weather, we've accomplished a number of weighty tasks.

We've done yard work and leaf bagging, and started a wee little Spite Garden. More on that later.

Brett finished the dining room shelves and then promptly ruined my professional styling by jamming a bunch of crap into that corner so he could work from home.

He has since moved his operation into the sunny room with me (both for sunlight and company) where I have painted the ceiling blue. I'm still working on that middle swatch. Needed some sanding.

Dad and Brett spent a day removing our "in-the-way" back deck columns and creating this nautical support system so that you can come out of the house and make a hard right without stubbing your toes. We're very close to painting this deck. I can feel it bubbling.

Many have asked but no, my costume antics ended after that first week of fun. One should stop while they're ahead. Things would have surely gotten too hokey.

Also, week 2 of quarantine was our bickery week so I wasn't feeling like much fun. But boy oh boy have we accepted things since then. We love the endless amount of entertainment we provide each other and we don't want Brett to ever have to go back to work. We've gotten spoiled by the fun of it all.

Our biggest and most exciting project is our front porch. We're still working on it but we're getting close. We've got a new deck, took off the railings to open things up, and Brett is finishing building our three-sided stairs at a glacial but structurally-sound pace. He only has a little bit of time to work on these each day and all the walkers and joggers that shout to us about our cute house every time they go by have now begun to comment on the status of our project.

Only recently have we become a little embarrassed by how long it's taking, but the consensus is that the general public really likes the new look. I can't wait to paint it and fill it with plants.

Hayden and Jenny Get Married Anyways

Last Saturday Hayden and Jenny went on with their wedding plans and got married in their backyard with only her parents present. Hayden's folks weren't allowed to leave North Carolina. I was planning on making a bouquet and boutonniere for them but then she told me they were just going to "stand in front of a bush" so I decided to surprise them with two urn arrangements. These were beautiful when I made them. They spontaneously died the night before the wedding and I was horrified and appalled. Admittedly, it was slim pickin's over at my flower wholesaler who wasn't sure whether they should close or not. Turns out those were old old flowers.
But like everything else, Jenny made the best of it.

And then a day ahead of time I found out they didn't have anyone there to take pictures so I volunteered for that too. You can't not have photos of the day you got married! Initially Brett was not pleased by this. "The germs!" But then he came around and even tagged along and stood extremely far away from them.

Their next door neighbor married them while friends and family watched through a laptop.
I thought the whole thing was awfully sweet.

I assure you the photos I sent to them were not blurry and awful like they're showing up here on the blog. Hayden and Jenny will still be celebrating their marriage with family and friend this coming November. We all can't wait.

March

It started out like any month. We did our work stuffs, cooked supper, and went to sleep like it was any other day. We reveled in the changing weather, enjoying coffee on the porch a few times and getting one wee little sunburn. We even had Ellie and Caroline over for Homemade Pizza night. And then it all happened at once. A viral outbreak.

We carried on and Mom and I setup what would be our last Spring wedding for the year. This poor bride had her guest-list sliced in half overnight. Two bridesmaids didn't even show up! The nerve. And then there was a week of not knowing what will happen. More and more friends started working from home, stores sold out of toilet paper, and newscasters began their dramatic displays.

The Last Centerpiece

And then case numbers started to climb. States went on lockdown, businesses began to close, and my Spring brides postponed one after the next. While I delight in not working, this wasn't quite how I had foreseen my Spring going. People everywhere were out of work. Brett's company scared everyone by talking about furloughing some workers. I only knew "furlough" to be a prison noun so initially I was quite concerned. 

My last Olivia visit. 

Mom and Dad are breaking quarantine rules because they just can't stay away. 

In the meantime, the azaleas bloomed and the dogwoods popped open, just like my schedule. I decided I was ready for Brett to work from home too and I had to wait a whole week for his stubborn company to agree to it. He setup camp in the dining room and that first week we were just delighted. He had his lunch break on the back deck, took afternoon jogs with the pups, and piped up with thoughts and witty comments throughout the day. It was all just the greatest. 

Week Two of quarantine was much less exciting because I got grumpy about him having to actually work even though I've been considering this "play time." Turns out you have to communicate your thoughts with your spouse or else you get snippy and moody and he's oblivious and preoccupied with making a living because you will no longer be contributing financially to the family. Last week was our first experience with consistent bickering and we've found it interesting and worth delving into mental exploration about it in-between matches. Certainly Brett and I disagree about things here and there but we don't really fight, and a bicker spat lasts less than 30-seconds. It typically goes like this:

"Move your leg, you're on my side."

"I am not!"

"You are too!"

And then we shove each other and giggle and then it's over. 

Usually only one fuse is short at a time, so Long Fuse acts as the shaman and helps Short Fuse work out their feelings. But gosh, when both fuses are short... oof.  We came to some interesting conclusions about "The Bickers" and now we're all better. I think we're nailing this marriage thing. 

Similarly, Grace and Pip have also been expecting Brett to entertain them because when Dad is home, we play. That's always been the rule. So really, this is all Brett's fault. 

March also brought us to an important mattress realization. Brett left town for a few nights for Hayden's bachelor weekend in Asheville. For fun I slept on his side of the bed and only noticed when he came home and I went back to my side, that my back felt significantly better while he was out of town. (See, it IS all Brett's fault.) So we switched sides for awhile to help my back and in turn, his started to hurt. There's something funny about my side! 

It was time for a new mattress. We did lots of research and picked one out and ordered it and waited. 

As many mattresses do these days, this one would arrive in a box on our porch, so a few days later when a suspiciously small box from the mattress company arrived, we threw our bed out to make room for what we figured would explode out of the box and make it impossible to move furniture. You see, we upgraded to a California King mattress, which if you don't know, is slightly less wide than a normal King but has an extra four inches of length. Theoretically, Brett's feet would finally have a landing pad at night. So we lugged out our Queen mattress and box spring and frame, for we couldn't use these things anymore. Finally, with the room cleared, we crowded around the box, sliced through that tape, and discovered that they had mailed us some "free with your purchase" really big pillows. 

So we slept on the floor for three nights. 

While this actually made both of our backs feel much better, we're boney people so we didn't sleep too well and think that the bad sleep played a big part in my bad mood. 

The mattress has since arrived and Brett's feet still hang over the end. 

We've spent most of our time lately working on house projects and this has been satisfying, exhausting, and ticklish. Not knowing how long quarantine will last, and being in one of the few states that hasn't issued an official lockdown, I'm very interested to see how things progress as more folks get antsy and nervous and agitated. Myself included.