Mt. Mulchy Update

This is for Matt & Chip: "You know, that mulch really pulls the yard together..." How to move a mountain of mulch: 1. Fill wheelbarrow 2. Drive wheelbarrow to a barren spot 3. Dump 4. Return to mulch pile 5. Repeat. Times a thousand. Then, go get a rake and spread out the millions of mini-mountains you've made all around the yard... As of yesterday, I have conquered the mountain. Ridiculously, I could actually use more mulch. The dad-blasted stumps and logs in the truckload made up quite a lot of volume. Note to self: you get what you pay for, yes, but never ask for mulch from that tree service again. Most of the bare earth is now covered, hopefully the weeds haven't sprouted enough to survive the smothering blanket. Next steps: Finish digging in the limestone edging throughout the winter. Luckily, this is not a time-sensitive task. The mulch HAD to get down, or I'd be facing the same weedy mess I had last year. But the limestone, I can do as I have time. And oh, I'm longing to start planting!!! I did tuck in a few gulf muhly grasses up close to the patio yesterday. They were awfully root-bound, but I have hopes. Happily, as I dug their little planting holes, I discovered a whole bunch of worm buddies doing their thing. It's very satisfying--especially considering the soil was so rock-hard and pitiful before. I do have a loose design scheme in mind, structurally. The plants are another issue. I want to start with trees and shrubs, but I dither over exactly what to plant where. It's also a budgetary problem. I don't have hundreds of dollars to buy trees. So, it's going to be a bit of a collaboration with the powers that be--I'll see what goes on sale this winter and give it a whirl. I suppose this is good for me, anyway. I tend to be an obsessive planmaker, and if things don't go exactly right, I get very uptight. Dancing with serendipity is a far better approach, don't you think? I had a little helper yesterday. A little 8-year-old neighbor boy came over and helped me plant a few things. "Always remember your safety!" he reminded me as we moved some rocks around. Then I showed him my current favorite caterpillars and he petted their little backs so, so gently, as his ridiculously long baby-boy eyelashes fluttered on his cheek like future wings.