The one where Farmer Goth plays with his wood

(Hur hur.)

There may be innuendo in this post, which - if you know me at all - will, I'm sure, be a tremendous surprise. Just clutch your pearls now, Gladys, and hang on.

ANYWAY...

Despite some fumbling around with parts, we received a delivery of wood and several screws, last week, so Himself could focus on the boxes into which we will SOW MOAR THINGS!

Late last week, I walked into the kitchen to this delightful tower:

2 metres of prime wood, if you will

Farmer Goth is clever and talented, you see, which is one of the reasons why I win at husbands. Over the weekend, things quickly progressed to adding protection to these bad boys, which really only fuelled my anticipation of the excitement to come.

See how they gleam in the sun! So fancy!

But oh, dear reader, this was only the beginning. Before we could even think of planting, we needed to take additional precautions that would keep things well contained, but will still leave wet spots as things drain.

Behold! The enlininging!

All prepared and ready to receive!

At this point, everything paused whilst we had a lovely chat with Neighbour Sue over the other fence, wherein I determined that she loves courgette, which will be important later in, like, August, when I'm about to die under that avalanche.

Then we were back at it, re-planting aforementioned courgette with much more space. 

Courgette-in-the-box!

And can we just talk for a minute about how fucking happy these strawberries are, now? So happy.

So! Happy! Also, a cameo by my house slippers.

I forgot to mention that, over the weekend, we also put the sorrel, oregano, and parsley directly into the ground, because they seemed sad in their wee pots. Definitely happier, now.

Close to the kitchen, too, as God intended.

So, anyway, that's the update. Roll credits...

Yes, but he's my dork, and I love him.