Photo Credit…By Seattle City Council from Seattle – https://www.flickr.com/photos/seattlecitycouncil/39074799225/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=68400532
Jeff Bezos and I are BFFs. Well, that is not exactly a true statement. Okay, Jeff Bezos and I have never met, but if we had, I’m sure we would be BFFs. How could Jeff not love the one person who single-handedly keeps Amazon afloat with all my purchases of garden, animal, and wildlife habitat supplies? I may not have bought Jeff’s home but I’m sure I helped finance his cars and maybe a few exotic vacation trips. Which is ironic, really, because I hate shopping. I honestly do. To be clear, I would rather have my breasts glued and stapled to a cold, hard surface than face a rabid crowd of shoppers in a big box store. My problem is not with the act of purchasing goods, it lies squarely with my love of gardening and all creatures that walk, fly, flutter, swim, crawl, and burrow. But thankfully, Jeff and I became close friends. His little store, called Amazon, helps me keep everyone and everything who lives at or passes through our small acreage in the Midwest happy and healthy.
Of course, it all began quite innocently (doesn’t it always?). My husband Marty and I decided spending several lifetimes of hard-earned savings and eating hot dogs with macaroni and cheese for the rest of our lives was a fair tradeoff for building our dream home on four acres of land next to a pond. The pond was beautiful, but the property was undeveloped, primarily clay, and an eyesore. Nevertheless, in my naïve and deluded mind I saw a future Butchart Gardens.
“No problem,” we said. “We’ll just clean it up and amend the dirt (what dirt?) with quality soil, organic matter, and lots of manure so we can have a little garden.” But to do that, we needed shovels, and hoes, and rakes, and wheelbarrows, and a chainsaw, and a tractor with a cart, and a million other tools, and an entire pharmacy worth of Advil and Tylenol. Where did we buy those tools and all that Advil and Tylenol? You guessed it, Amazon. And thanks to Jeff, his little store, and weeks of back-breaking work, we finally transformed a once neglected piece of land into the blank canvas for a botanical masterpiece. It also became the neighborhood hazmat zone. The eye-watering, face-melting aroma of four acres of cow manure tilled soil was so pungent it could have raised the dead. Fortunately, strong prevailing winds, understanding neighbors, and an endless supply of cow pie jokes prevented a community revolt and certain eviction.
Before the work began
Our property before we started to develop it.
Work Begins
Work Begins
Remember that “little garden” we first envisioned? It blossomed into three large and six small interconnected landscaped areas. And in all those spaces Marty and I planted dozens of trees we hoped would offer future shade and protection for the birds, and bushes and plants for the smaller animals, and hundreds upon hundreds of annual and perennial flowers for visiting bees and butterflies. And then, of course, we needed birdhouses, bat houses, and butterfly houses, and food for the birds and the butterflies and the fish, and solar water fountains, and pretty lighting and cameras so we could watch our little slice of heaven in the evening when we were sitting on our back porch, and…. and once again we turned to Jeff and his little store for help.
Spring – year 1 of our garden. Marty made this bench.
Spring - year 1 of our garden. Marty made this bench.
Spring – year 2 of our garden with Marty in the yard.
Spring - year 2 of our garden with Marty in the yard.
Then one day, softly and without fanfare, Marty and I realized we had created our Field of Dreams. If you build it, they will come.
And boy, did they come.
After only a few summers, our humble clay filled acreage looked like Mother Nature and a double shot espresso had a love child. Not only did the garden burst with color and fragrance, Marty and I became the proud adoptive parents of a gazillion different birds, deer, raccoons, skunks, snakes, possums, muskrats, fish, frogs, turtles, bees, and butterflies. We also became acutely aware of the responsibilities for maintaining our personal Eden when an entire flock of ravenous Velociraptors/Cedar Waxwings descended upon our home, gorged themselves on fermented berries and crabapples, then proceeded to display the avian equivalent of a rowdy, alcohol-infused frat party. It was then we understood the need to keep everything and everyone at Pam and Marty’s Bed and Breakfast, aka Pamarty’s B and B, safe and consistently fed and watered. But don’t get me wrong. We love what we created and wouldn’t trade it for the world – even if that means creating a bird detox and harm reduction center or herding turtles across the road while only wearing a nightshirt, boots, and an overcoat at 6:30 am. As I said before, we have very understanding neighbors.
Early spring– year 3 of the garden from our back porch
Early spring – year 3 of the garden from our back porch
Early summer in the garden
Early summer in the garden
So, how do I keep our wild garden love child in tip top shape? Just as before, I turn to my BFF, Jeff Bezos, for help. Where else can I order songbird food at 6 a.m., with no bra, no makeup, in my jammies, when I’m barely conscious? Jeff’s place. Need fish and duck food? That’s also Jeff’s place with a two-day delivery. How about flower seeds, peat pots with starter trays, and a plant heat mat? Again, Jeff’s place via overnight express. And sometimes, when I’m in the mood, I’ll even order something whimsical for myself. Something like a bird whistle that is supposed to attract birds to my porch, but sadly doesn’t because it is cheaply made in a galaxy far, far away and only produces a pathetic squeak when you turn the two pieces of wood together. But am I upset? Not really, because Jeff and his little store are my friends.
I sometimes wonder how I ever coped before I met Jeff. It’s like life before cell phones, and microwaves, and the internet. But still, I worry what’s next for Jeff and me. How will the future of shopping impact my personal garden of Eden? Will Jeff and I remain BFFs? I’m guessing we will, especially if I can still order songbird food and maybe a bird whistle at 6 a.m., with no bra, no makeup, in my jammies, when I’m barely conscious, AND he starts to deliver orders to my home with those cute little drones.
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About Mother Nature’s Apprentice
Dr. Pam Lehenbauer (AKA Mother Nature’s Apprentice) has won several awards for gardening, landscaping, and creating sustainable wildlife habitats. Pam writes about offbeat topics related to gardening, nature and the environment, society, life, and the awkward and embarrassing events which frequently occur in her life.
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