Digging In: A Novel(21)
“I swear that tasted just like a bowl full of heaven.” I sprawled over the lawn, full of food and satisfied, and stared up at the darkening late-spring sky. We were all stretched out over some old blankets I’d found in the linen closet. Somewhere in the pantry Mykia found a tray Jesse’s aunt Tess had given us, and it made a nice centerpiece, citronella candle burning away in the middle. Still, we alternately swatted at the early mosquitoes sucking our blood, enriched as it was with the sweetness of the strawberries Glynnis had bought at the market.
“I told you,” Mykia said. “When it comes to food, I’m a genius.”
“Alchemist,” I said as I poured us all some more wine. “That’s what you called yourself. I like that better, turning something boring into something spectacular.”
“I’m not sure what that means exactly,” Jackie said, “but that was amazing, and I don’t even like vegetables.”
“Anyone can do it,” Mykia said, her voice growing soft. “Like anything else, it just takes a little effort.”
“I don’t know,” I mused. “You planted those vegetables. Cared for them. Plucked them at the right time and made something incredible from them for us to enjoy. Circle of life right there.”
Mykia turned on her stomach. She toyed with one blade of grass, not snapping it, but not letting it go, working it between her fingers. “You’ll do the same, in time. That’s the goal, isn’t it? Some kind of subsistence garden?”
“I don’t know. I started digging because I was feeling shitty and it felt good. Then I kept digging because I liked the feeling. The idea of actually planting something came later. I didn’t seriously start thinking about it until I saw your stuff at the market today.”
Mykia nudged me with her foot. “I always tell my father that gardening gives me endorphins. You know, like a runner’s high.”
“I believe it.”
We grew silent for a moment, taking in the great gaping hole of dirt, which suddenly seemed to beckon with possibility.
“Well, you have to do something with this,” Jackie said. “It seems a shame to sod it over, and I don’t even know why. This is a fancy suburb. It does look awful. That snobby lady was right about that.”
It didn’t look awful to me. The dirt was dark and rich and teeming with worms. That should have grossed me out, but it didn’t. “I’m not going to cover it up. I’m going to keep digging.”
“It’s not too late to plant this season,” Glynnis quietly contributed. “My mom always put in tomatoes late, and peppers, eggplant, zucchini. It usually worked out.”
“That’s not the way to do this,” Mykia said, shaking her head. “You should do raised beds, maybe build a small greenhouse on one side of the yard. This requires planning. You can’t just dig up your yard and drop in a few plants.”
“How much would the raised beds cost?” I had no idea.
She thought for a moment. “You could fit about six here, maybe eight. Fifteen hundred dollars? And that’s conservative.”
“I don’t have the money for that right now.”
Mykia took her time before she spoke again. “Well, I guess dirt’s dirt. If you’re not going to resod that hole, then you might as well do something with it. We’ve got some guys who work at our farm. I can send them out with a rototiller if you’re serious. I’ve got some scrap wood, and they can squeeze a few raised beds out of my stash. It’s not going to be pretty, though.”
“And how much will that cost?” I asked, expecting the worst.
“About a hundred bucks.”
Jackie’s head whipped up. She raised an eyebrow at me. Mykia was obviously giving me a deal. I wasn’t above taking it.
“Okay. If I toss in another fifty, can they help me get more of this lawn up?”
“Done.” Mykia grinned. “This subdivision is full of perfect lawns and Stepford wives. Your neighbors aren’t going to be happy.”
“Nope.”
“See if your association will give you a permit,” she added, her smile widening. Mykia was getting a kick out of this. I had the feeling that thumbing her nose at authority revved her up.
“You sure about this, Paige?” asked Jackie. The voice of reason. But I wasn’t feeling particularly reasonable.
“No,” I answered. “I’m not. But I’m doing it anyway.”
CHAPTER 9
Excerpt from Petra Polly: Chapter 8—The Underperforming Employee
Imagine you are dealing with a small child who insists on heedlessly running into traffic. At first, you admonish her and attempt to explain the danger. Next, you threaten punishment. Finally, you purchase a leash or quit walking altogether. Neither of these solutions is particularly desirable. They both teach the child nothing.
For management, dealing with an employee who has lost her way offers similar choices. Multiple warnings or write-ups, the threat of dismissal, forcing more restrictive rules, outright firing—these tactics are only rarely necessary and ignore the real issue at hand.
Your employee feels unchallenged and seeks attention.
So you must give it to her. Hang a brass ring. Draw a finish line. Engrave a trophy.
Set the standard necessary for achievement. Sit back and watch her run.