Once upon a time there was a garden within a garden within a garden.
I call it my vegetable garden. It wasn’t always this way. Twenty years ago we moved into this house and inherited the usual fence around the perimeter. I liked this fence. It’s old wire and had gates to match at four different entry points.
The gate that led to the front door never really worked. I’m guessing it was because the previous owners who had been there 50+ years had used it the most. What do people love to do with gates? They love to swing them to close. What breaks a gate? People swinging them to close. We also realized that the only people that came to our front door were people we didn’t want to talk to; Jehovah’s Witnesses, salespeople, politicians. So, over time, I’ve let a rose climb across and now you really have to look to see that there is a gate there.
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