Breinthewild

I just returned from a lovely vacation along the Oregon coast (I got to see an opalescent nudibranch and a basket star!) and figured I’d give you some updates on how last month finished out. My writing goal for April was to beat last year’s monthly total, which I did, barely. 2025’s word count came in at 5,847 words. 2026’s ended up at 5,882, the last bit of which was done in the last few minutes of April before the month rolled over into May (and my vacation began).

I finished reading three books in April. One was the first book in a new series, one was the last book in a series I’ve been enjoying, and one was a standalone novella. I consider them all middle-of-the-pack reads: enjoyable but not incredible. My reading pace slowed considerably in April with the advent of good weather. More time spent outdoors with friends = less time reading. Funnily enough, I expect this trend to work in my favor during summer heat waves, when I also tend to spend more time indoors reading.

April was also the month for house projects (which has continued into May). The end of April is the best time for planting in my region but in order to plant you have to have a decent plot of dirt to stick seeds into. The “garden” has been an ongoing project since we moved in two years ago. The previous tenants used the backyard as their personal dumpster, creating a massive hill of trash topped by a live pumpkin plant we speculated had sprouted from a leftover jack-o-lantern. Much of year one was spent removing trash from the backyard in an attempt to form a garden area. I also planted some dahlias (my favorite flower) which ~allegedly~ “resembled weeds” to a helpful third party. For this crime they were promptly demolished with a lawn mower. They survived.

Last year, actual progress was made as we tore out two hideous shrubs and steadily unearthed and removed shards of beer bottles, decomposing socks, and shredded plastic bags from the garden area with the care and precision of archeologists weirdly obsessed with 2020’s American consumerism culture. The mowed dahlias returned for a second try. Unfortunately, their weed-like appearance remained. On this occasion, the helpful third party treated them to several spritzes of weed killer. They survived. A few vegetables and two tomato plants also managed to make it to harvest.

This year, the garden has a proper border of stones (unearthed from the garden area), much more trash has been removed (but there’s somehow always more bits of plastic littering the earth like confetti), and the variety of plant life has increased. A raspberry bush now fills the hole left by one of the ugly shrubs and stakes have been driven for pole beans. The dahlias are back for round three and, as of this writing, have not yet been significantly hampered in their growth by outside forces. Six more dahlias have joined them, as well as a row of sunflowers.

All of this is simple enough to put down in writing. But as anyone who has gardened or farmed before can tell you, a lot of work goes into making a hard bit of dirt into something tenable for plants and flowers. I expect I will be maintaining this project for as long as I live here, slowly removing rocks and bits of trash to improve conditions year after year in a live reenactment of the movie Wall-E.

It’s a nice feeling to have a project span a long period of time and be able to measure its progress year after year. In many ways, gardening feels like the opposite of writing. In one, you see the progress as plants grow in front of your eyes and, at the end of the season, get to taste your good work. In the other, the measurements of progress are so subjective, at the end of the day, you simply have to do your best and hope it sticks.

P.S. – Bonus points if you can locate the Bazooka Gnome in each garden picture.

P.P.S. – The Bazooka Gnome Initiative was conceived in spring of 2024 as a way to mark newly-planted dahlias so they would not get mowed/weed-wacked.

P.P.P.S.- The Bazooka Gnome Initiative was declared an utter failure in fall of 2025. A new initiative titled “I’m Putting Big Freaking Rocks Between the Lawn and the Plants to Act as a Barrier” has since been enacted.