The Yard Garden 2026: Zone 8a Monday Edition

Thirteen days ago I left for cigarettes and came home with lily bulbs, onion sets, and a vow that THIS IS IT for a while. I meant it. Mostly.

Monday I went outside with purpose. Not a plan, exactly — more like a general direction and the muscle memory of someone who has done this before. The retaining wall is in, as it has been for years now. The red clay is tilled and waiting. The plum tree — a veteran of this particular hillside — is leafing out like it does every year, unbothered, as though it didn't watch me fight that same clay with a shovel for three days back in 2019.

We got stuff in the ground. Some of it is even right-side up...now.

The Yard Garden - Still a mess, but a mess with a plum and a border.

The Onions

Three rows of onion sets went in first, which felt productive and responsible. I diligently measured the 4" the package said I should space them within the rows (er, I put them EXACTLY one thumb to the end of one middle finger apart.) Then I looked at them. You're supposed to leave the stalk up. Then I looked again. Which end is the stalk? Then I went back and flipped them, digging them up'ish one thumb to the end of one middle finger or so at a time. They're in now. Correctly oriented. Allegedly. (Pointy end up, Zone 8a friends. I knew that. I just had to double-check.)

This is my first time planting onions. That's not true. This is my first time planting onions that didn't come from seed and die or come from the grocery store (spring onions) and basically just make salad chives. So, good start.

The Cabbages

Two, maybe three cabbages made it into the bed. Spacing was, let's call it organic. There was no measuring tape involved. There was no plan, other than the knowledge that they attract those blue beetle things like CRAZY.

Which is actually sort of the plan. See, the beetles eat the plum too — and we want the plums. My SO doesn't love cabbage the way he loves plums, so if something's getting sacrificed to the beetles this summer, I'd rather it be the thing he's lukewarm about. The cabbages are doing everyone a favor just by being there. They don't know that yet, but they'll figure it out.

The Tomatoes

Two grape tomatoes went in — one on each side of a slightly bent trellis, because that's the trellis we have and we're not going to let a little lean stop us. Two more grape tomatoes are waiting. I haven't decided where they're going yet. They haven't either.

We have two of those swirly tomato stakes - the ones that are green and look sort of like a tornado on a stick? I've tried these exact ones before. What happens is: small tomato goes on swirly stake, tomato grows rapidly, stake also goes up at the same rate as the tomato, and the whole situation eventually flops over sideways, trellis attached, victorious in its failure. We'll try again anyway. (Side note: The tomatoes are always still edible so, meh...)

The Peppers

The two Gigante jalapenos are in the ground. These are the big ones — gigante, en español, meaning large, meaning I will absolutely be making something with them in August and reporting back. They're not crazy spicy, which means they work in basically everything: tacos on a Tuesday, salsa, and if we're being honest, just...stroganoff. Mild. Usable. Peppers.

The bell pepper that spent the entire winter inside — not fruiting, not complaining, just existing and dropping leaves all over the floor while non-dramatically not dying — has been released to the outdoor world. We'll see if a change of scenery motivates it. Fingers crossed, because so far the only bell peppers I've managed to grow here are approximately 1/2" tall and wide. I blame the clay.

The Lilies (The Whole Reason We're Here)

The lilies started this whole thing — thirteen days ago they were an impulse purchase two plant centers deep into what was supposed to be a cigarette run. Monday they went in the ground out front: two types of Asiatic lily bulbs (a mixed pack and the Landini, which are the dark burgundy-black ones and I will not apologize for them), plus an Oriental lily mix.

They're perennials. They'll come back every year. This was always the plan, even when the plan was made impulsively in a Lowe's parking lot.

The clearance cyclamen went in out front too — the ones that were just having a rough day when I found them. They're keeping the blueberries company and providing color contrast. Clearance cyclamen are just regular cyclamen who needed a change of scenery. Relatable.

What Isn't In The Ground Yet

The lima beans have been soaked. Soaking is a step. Soaking counts. They are not in the ground yet, but they are ready, and that's something.

The summer squash, the zucchini, and an entire herb garden's worth of seed packets are currently sitting on a chair. The chair is outside. That's close.

And yes, there's also the cache of seeds I've been compiling for years — questionably outdated expiration dates and all. I'm just deciding if I have room for everything and how to stagger the things that grow up with the things that grow down to make use of the wall and maximize the space. My SO always says "the way I plant" like it's a veritable disaster. I also fed him for an entire summer off this garden, so. Invalid.

The Current State of Affairs

The $5 Walmart sprinkler is doing its thing. The plum tree is unbothered. Somewhere in that red clay are onions that were briefly upside down and are now corrected, cabbages with a job to do, and peppers that are finally, finally outside where they belong. Out front, the lilies are in the ground, and the cyclamen are settling into better days.

Ok but seriously, we've had this same sprinkler for probably 5 years. Still sprinkling.

While I was out there, I trimmed all the bushes in the front. The whole area looks more open now. More spacious. We don't have a deck, but if we did, it would absolutely look bigger.

What we do have is access to the spigot again, which previously required getting uncomfortably close to Ferdinand — our 6-foot black racer, who low key just lives here now. He's good people. Eats the things we don't want, minds his business, holds down the property, occasionally scares the grown kids when they come to visit. But there's a difference between knowing a snake is beneficial and wanting to accidentally make eye contact with six feet of him while reaching for the hose. The bushes are trimmed. The spigot is accessible. Ferdinand is presumably still out there, just with less coverage.

This is also the first summer Ferdinand shares the yard with Sam, our 90lb GSD puppy, who does not yet know Ferdinand exists. We'll report back on that development as it unfolds.

It's not done. It's barely started. But the trellis is up (mostly), and there's water hitting actual dirt with actual things growing in it.

That's The Yard Garden.

Shop Plants You Don't Have to Plant Outside

Next up: getting the seeds off the chair and into the ground before we lose our nerve. Updates to follow — again.