In honor of my blogging friend Ang of St. Fairsted Farm, I have agreed to TRY to grow something other than bermuda grass, burr clover and puncture vine this year. You think I'm kidding, Ang, but I assure you, I am not.

Here's the plot I chose to wrestle with.

Don't be alarmed by the shade. In July those crispy little plants will be BEGGING for any available shade, believe me. And I won't plant right up to the south fence line, anyway. Notice how green everything is? That's how it is in February here in California. February is our May. By March it'll be lush and green, with three foot grass that's beginning to go to seed already. I'm not kidding. By May everything is almost brown -- that's where the Golden State gets its name (because Brown State or Withered State just weren't sexy enough).

Here's a photo I took in May a few years ago, at Bidwell Park. Not a scrap of green grass to be found.

Onward. See that big hole? That's a kitty potty, dug by my daughters for the benefit of the kitties, in case they have to go potty outside. Yeah, like THAT'S gonna happen.

And this is a worm -- not photographed with any skill or finesse, you understand -- that was unfortunate enough to be flung by my shovel onto the fence post. He'll be just fine as soon as the Worm Witness Protection Program takes over.

This is The Ugly Shovel, or The Shovel of Many Splinters, as photographed by Smedley. She has not yet grasped the importance of a clear path to the subject matter, so you are getting a bit of whatever plastic toy she was toting around. And no adjustment of your monitor is necessary; the ground is level in the yard -- it's Smedley who's cockeyed.

And here is the 6 x 6' patch of yard after I had taken 4" or so of (clay) soil and (weeds) weeds off the top. Yes, I'm aware that the fence needs to be painted -- it's been almost five years; what's another five among friends?

In the summer there will be no shade, Ang -- don't panic; the sun will be farther north and it'll be a nice, sunny desert.

I bought my soil test kit yesterday. I'm going to rake the rocks this weekend. The cats are fertilizing it nicely, I can only imagine. Okay, Ang -- now what? Is it tomatoes yet?