On the QT | The Official Newsletter of GWA June-July 2016 | Page 6

FOOD

STEVEN BIGGS

Meet the neighbors with
a front-yard garden

T

FRONT-YARD CONTROVERSY
I was inspired to make a front-yard
garden full of edibles after I attended
a local meeting about turning a vacant,
overgrown, city-owned lot into a community vegetable garden. There was much
enthusiasm…yet there were a couple of
neighbors adamantly opposed to the idea.
They contended that vegetables are ugly
and might affect property values.
Alarmed at this foolish opposition,
6

PHO TO COUR TE SY STE VE N BIG G S

he look of horror on my wife Shelley’s face said it all. I suspect the
look on my own face wasn’t much
different. Despite the trappings of
a gourmet meal—red wine, candles
and béchamel sauce—my attempt
at cooking cardoon was a dismal
failure. It stands out in my mind as one of
the most revolting mouthfuls of food that
I’ve ever ungracefully returned to my plate.
When I called back the woman who
left a message about my cardoon plants,
we didn’t talk about the revolting taste.
“Mr. Biggs, you don’t know me, but I
know you,” began the message, rather
ominously. She went on to say that when
she knocked on my door and nobody
answered, she asked my neighbor Stephen
for my telephone number. “I must know
the name of that Promethean plant in your
front yard,” she declared.
What a gratifying message! As a writer,
I was delighted to learn a new word: Promethean (bold and daring.) As a gardener, I was heartened to think my garden
delighted her.
Her message touched me for another
reason: In removing my front lawn to plant
a garden full of edibles, I had worried that
I — the new guy on the block — would
offend the suburban sensibilities of my
neighbors in our shrub-lawn-driveway
shrouded neighborhood. Her message
dispelled any remaining worry.
I suspected right away she meant my
cardoons. The 4-foot-high, gray-leaved
beauties arched over my driveway like
sentries standing on guard.
Cardoon in Steven Biggs’ front yard started the neighborhood talking.

I wondered what I could do. My initial
response was that, as a writer, I should
write an article about such folly. But then
I had a vision of removing my front lawn
and planting edibles. An attractive front
yard full of edibles would be my statement
against this silly notion that veggies should
be banished to the backyard.

I was slow to start sod busting. I pondered it at length. I was still pondering it
when Shelley put her hand on my shoulder
and said, “Honey, I think the neighbors
know you’re eccentric, so you might as well
make that veggie garden out front.”