One of the things that’s been keeping me busy lately, aside from finishing up a remarkably busy quarter of grad school (first year now done!), is the process of finding a new place to live and beginning the move.

After my roommate and I had planted an extensive garden this year, which involved building a large raised bed and buying lots of bulk soil, seeds, and vegetable starts, our landlord announced that he was moving back to Seattle and... into our house.  It turned out he’d known for a while, even, but hadn’t bothered to tell us, so he could get extra rent money.  Argh.

After much exhaustive and exhausting searching, we found a little brick house in Ballard, a lovely Seattle neighborhood with a fantastic farmers’ market and other fine features.  The house has a large, well-lit yard. 

So, a few days ago, we began moving the garden.  We gently extracted the plants, potted them, hauled the soil, hauled the raised bed, and reassembled all of it.  We’re still in the process of placing another bed, buying a little more soil, and moving some of the last plants.

Some of our friends thought we were, well, insane for attempting this.  But we’d already spent a lot of time and money on the garden and we didn’t want to leave anything for a landlord about whom we weren’t feeling particularly fond.  Besides, we like having a garden and wanted to keep it, even if it meant a logistical nightmare involving a hatchback full of garden soil and a sedan packed to the gills with wobbly plants, driving through Seattle.

The vegetables seem to be doing okay, at last check (we have a watering system on a timer during the move).  I’m holding my breath a little bit, but the experiment may have worked.  And yes, maybe we were insane, but how could we have done anything else?

Going to extremes for gardening isn’t anything new.  There are people who build gardens on rooftops and balconies, in abandoned plots and traffic circles. 

We have a yen to make things grow, to work with our hands, to connect with soil and plants and life and food, and we make do with what we have.

What’s the most extreme thing you’ve done for the sake of gardening?  And, in our shoes, would you have done the same thing?