Building Community in an Unexpected Way
Laying out the garden
Jefferson County, WV is filled with so many different kinds of people – from farmers to hippies to professors to those so newly arrived from the city that they don’t understand erratic cell service or snow plows that don’t hit every road. We have trailer parks next to mansions and political views run the full spectrum. So, how can we possibly form community? Every person we try to open up to is a potential disagreement. After 24 years here, I still didn’t know the answer. Then something happened.
Last winter a young man who was staying with me asked if we could grow a garden. He wanted a something completely organic and so large it could supplement our food supply. A monumental task. Could I do it? At that point I was still thinking of tackling it myself.
There were things that worried me: a tenacious crabgrass lawn where the garden would have to go, potentially poor soil, and an unbridled deer population. Rabbits, moles, raccoons, squirrels, and groundhogs lived here too. They all like to eat vegetables.
Step 1: Kill the grass before spring gives it a fighting chance. I chose cardboard because it is biodegradable and kills grass without destroying the soil. And it’s free and available everywhere.
As I scrambled for rocks to hold the cardboard down, a wonderful thing happened. Neighbors, even strangers, saw the project and wanted to join in. They brought things they found in their sheds and garages to repurpose. Someone gave us old tires to hold the cardboard down, others gave us cinder blocks and wooden pallets and old cabinets with the backs removed to build raised beds. A broken wooden fence became the chicken coop. Our garden became a community effort!
Little by little more people asked to help. A Starbucks employee gave us an unlimited supply of cardboard and coffee grounds.
My daughter gave me her old tiller. Podcasts about no till gardening gave me an excuse not to use it. Tilling the soil destroys its structure. Worms would die. We saved the worms by putting bottomless raised beds full of 10-12 inches of leaf compost over the now dead grass covered in cardboard. The open bottoms of the beds allowed worms to come in and any excess water to drain away. The result: exuberant plants. New friends asked to help plant them.
We needed a fence before we could grow anything. White-tailed deer can jump seven and a half feet. That meant an eight-foot fence. Neighbors gave me old chicken wire, rabbit wire, green woven plastic fabric, and mismatched posts – even bright orange snow fencing. We covered it with black berry, raspberry, and blueberry bushes as well and honeysuckle, morning glories, and giant sunflowers – anything to make it so deer couldn’t see the other side. They won’t jump over something unless they can see the other side.
But deer weren’t the only pests, and no fence in the world will keep out rabbits. Poison wasn’t an option, so I chose herbs. The stronger smelling the better. I put a few in every bed, and even though I saw rabbits regularly on my lawn just outside the fence to my garden, I never saw a single one inside it.
Companion planting was key. Certain plants grow better when planted with others. For example, we set aside a corner of the garden for corn, squash, and beans. We grew them in mounds, the way the native Americans did, with corn providing the structure for climbing beans to grow on; beans offering the nitrogen for the squash and corn; and squash with its large, rough leaves growing all over the ground and keeping out deer and creatures by being uncomfortable to walk through. Laughter makes things grow.
Keeping insects away by planting marigolds and garlic everywhere helped too. And mulching the strawberries with straw kept slugs out of them. Tomatoes grow better with basil. Squash can’t be grown next to cucumbers. Watermelon can’t grow near blackberries. Okra and peppers do great in the herb bed. Peanuts grew well with tomatoes until the tomatoes blocked out all their sunshine. I googled “companion planting for _____” for everything I put in the ground, but I also spent time listening to my more experienced neighbors, staff at the local nurseries, strangers at farmers markets, and county extension workers.
Succession planting gave us a chance to plant more than our space would normally allow. Broccoli goes to seed the moment it gets too warm, and asparagus doesn’t get big until the broccoli is gone. They could share space. Potatoes need to be in the ground early but they don’t surface right away, so I planted lettuce and spinach over the potato beds.
There were so many things I never expected in my unexpected garden. I knew I wanted berries and some familiar herbs, but from Okra to potatoes to peanuts to corn, I grew things that people suggested that I wouldn’t have considered. Companion planting and succession planting made this possible. Neighbors donated berry bushes, potatoes that had started growing in their cupboards, extra plants that they had too many of, heritage tomato seeds, and wildflower mixes. They gave advice and even labor. I gave them smiles and produce. We got all kinds of wonderful food, but the best thing that my garden grew was unexpected community.
