A Raised Bed Of One’s Own

The day that I got the keys to our new rental house, I Googled “how to start a garden.” The house — which is a true oasis and the kind that my Millennial self definitely couldn’t afford to buy—came with a perfectly small backyard filled with fruit trees, herbs, and two raised beds. I had never gardened a day in my life, though not for lack of interest. For more than a decade, I’d lived in small apartments without so much as a balcony to raise one sad tomato plant. On several occasions, I’d limply looked into getting on the waitlist for a plot in a community garden, but it was always a pipe dream. The lists for <a href="https://www.seattle.gov/neighborhoods/programs-and-services/p-patch-community-gardening" rel="noopener ugc nofollow" target="_blank">Seattle’s P-patch program</a> are years long (you’re mostly just hoping someone will expire) and, as a lifetime renter (again, Millennial), I knew I’d never be in the same place long enough to be granted one of these mythical dirt squares, let alone tend to it through the seasons. <a href="https://hannabrooksolsen.medium.com/a-raised-bed-of-ones-own-6930188989">Website</a>