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Living in a suburbia tract house doesn't bode well for an extraordinary vegetable garden. However, my husband and I weren't daunted, as I've particularly been known to go against the grain. It all started in the fall after a singularly trying trip to the grocery store. The trip was an after work special, with picked over produce; wilted lettuce, rock hard cardboard tomatoes, and cucumbers that looked like they had been tortured for all the bruises. Adding to the produce catastrophe, there were long lines and shrieking children wanting a cookie. Arriving home, I slammed the front door while juggling six plastic bags of the meager store offerings in frustration.

"I've had enough of that store! It's not as if we live in Russia where fresh vegetables are in short supply. It's pitiful! This is Texas not Russia! Why can't the grocery store buyers go to South Texas? Where do they get this stuff, the Mojave desert?" I bemoaned.

"Whoa now," my husband replied calmly taking a few of the bags out of my hands. "I have an answer, I think. Why can't we plant our own garden in the backyard?"

"Yeah, right," I said doubtingly. "I don't know a thing about growing vegetables and we live in a subdivision."

He could tell that I was too frustrated to go further with the topic, so he quietly changed the subject and put the groceries away. Our golden retriever, Summer, always sensing when I'm at my lowest, followed me to the bedroom as I changed out of my work clothes. Her happy disposition could always lift my mood. As I hung my dress, I pondered my husband's suggestion. We had only lived in our house for a year and the backyard wasn't landscaped yet. It was on the list of the many tasks, but had not yet made it to the top as a priority.

Over supper, the subject of a vegetable garden surfaced again. We both agreed that our backyard would support a small garden. Apparently my husband had been thinking about it more than I had as he produced a drawing of where the garden could be placed, materials needed, even what types of vegetables to plant. I was amazed and readily agreed.

The following weekend we purchased landscape timbers and arranged to have a truckload of good quality soil dumped in our driveway. On a small plot, we had decided to create a raised bed. The timbers went together quickly and the foundation of our garden was in place. My job was to wheelbarrow the soil. After twelve trips back and forth with loads of dirt, I was feeling pretty weary. We raked the soil smooth and stood

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