By Aileen Carroll, UC Master Gardener of Napa County.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted a garden of my own. Not just a few pots on a patio, but a real piece of earth to tend. One that no one else could trample, paint or accidentally “weed.”
When I was a college student living in a cramped apartment, I didn’t let the absence of outdoor space stop me. I filled the pockets of an over-the-door shoe organizer with soil and planted fava beans that my botany professor had passed along to me. Hanging on my porch railing they sprouted bravely, dangling in their tiny pockets of dirt. A miniature victory for a young gardener starved for soil.
Later, when I finally had access to shared garden plots, my hopes were repeatedly dashed by circumstance. A landlord once mistook my tender young California native plants for invasive weeds and ripped them all out. In another borrowed garden space, a neighbor’s goats jumped the fence and devoured my vegetables in a single afternoon. Sloppy painters misted blue paint across my winter edible garden. Fence builders trampled my carefully amended raised beds. My gardens have been destroyed in so many creative ways that I began to believe true gardening freedom would only come with homeownership.
So when my partner and I finally bought a house this year, I was overjoyed. Owning a little patch of earth has been a lifelong dream that once felt utterly out of reach. The house itself was one of the least expensive in the area. Cheap enough that we could actually buy it…and it shows. “Fixer-upper” doesn’t quite cover it. Every surface indoors and out needs attention.
Still, the garden was the part I was most excited about. I imagined I’d be outside with a shovel the day after closing, planting fruit trees and wildflowers, building raised bed, and finally shaping the space exactly as I wanted.
Reality, of course, had other plans.
The front yard, shaded by mature trees, is little more than a patchwork of weeds. The sunny backyard isn’t much better—just more weeds, compacted soil and a couple of struggling rose bushes that have clearly been on their own for years. And as much as I want to dive in, I know it’s not the right time. Heavy machinery, painters and construction crews will be coming through in the months ahead, and anything I plant now will be crushed or coated in dust and paint.
So I’m doing something that doesn’t come easily to me: waiting.
In the meantime, I’m focusing on what I can do. First on my list is protecting and improving the soil. I’ve been spreading a generous four to six inches of arborist mulch, which can be sourced for free. Rough-textured wood chips like these help smother weeds, prevent erosion and nourish the microbial life that keeps soil healthy. Moving mulch is not glamorous work, but it’s deeply satisfying. Even this simple step transforms the yard from a patch of chaos into something that looks intentional and cared for.
I’m also allowing myself to dream about what might be hidden beneath the surface. The house is nearly a century old, and I can’t help but imagine that long-ago gardeners may have planted bulbs like daffodils, irises, maybe even freesias? They could still be buried deep in the earth. Come spring, I’m hoping to see a few brave shoots break through the mulch.
One of the first big projects on our to-do list is repainting the house. As I interview painters, I’m being careful to ask about their cleanup practices. I want to make sure they use tarps and canvases to keep paint chips and debris out of the soil. After so many years of tending other people’s ground, I’m determined to start my own off right.
Since I can’t plant directly in the ground yet, I’ve turned to containers. Normally at this time of year, I’d have a winter vegetable garden going strong, full of lettuces, peas and brassicas. Instead, I’ve filled pots with tender herbs like parsley, chervil, lovage, thyme and arugula. These will make my winter meals far more interesting. They’re a small daily joy, a reminder that even during a pause there’s still life and growth. I’m already imagining inviting a few friends over in January for a “salad dinner,” something green and bright to break up the winter gray.
There’s also a quiet gift in this forced waiting period: time to observe. Over the next few months, I’ll watch how the light moves across the yard, where frost lingers, and which areas drain well after a storm. By the time spring arrives, I’ll understand this little patch of land much better. The microclimates, the shadows, the hidden corners will be obvious in a way I wouldn’t have known if I had rushed to plant immediately.
Luckily, I’m not alone in this adventure. I’m engaged to a certified arborist, so at least I can leave the tree work in capable hands. And I’m fortunate enough to work at a garden center, where I spend my days surrounded by plants and people who love them. I get to dream out loud, sketch out ideas, and imagine the garden that will one day grow here.
For now, though, the real work is patience. After so many years of gardening in borrowed spaces, where my plants could be destroyed by goats or paint or a careless landlord, it feels almost radical to just to wait, to plan and to protect.
Owning this little patch of earth still feels surreal. Even though it’s not yet the garden of my dreams, it is mine… every weedy inch of it. And as this soil rests beneath its mulch blanket and the house slowly transforms around it, I’m learning that this waiting process can be its own kind of gardening. The plants will come in time. For now, I’m tending something just as important: the dream that got me here, and the patience to see it through.
Workshop: Join UC Master Gardeners of Napa County for a workshop on “Starting Your Own Vegetable Seedlings” on Saturday, January 10, from 2 pm to 4 pm, at UC Cooperative Extension, 1710 Soscol Avenue, Napa. We’ll cover all the basics, including proper moisture, temperature and light for successful seed starting, and care of seedlings until they are ready for transplant. We provide some seeds, containers and soil; bring your own seeds if you like.
Help Desk: The Master Gardener Help Desk is available to answer your garden questions. Use our online Plant Problem Help Form or email us at mastergardeners@countyofnapa.org. Include your name, address, phone number and a brief description of the problem. You can also visit us in person on Mondays and Fridays from 10 am until 1 pm at the University of California Cooperative Extension Office, 1710 Soscol Avenue, Suite 4, Napa.