View from the Deck

I don't usually keep secrets from K., but I waited for the ink to dry on our mortgage before I told her my real reason for buying the house: I love the deck. I love that it sits directly below the afternoon shadows of the house, I love that it's big, flat, and uncomplicated, I love the gazebo and I especially love the way it frames our view of the yard. The rest of the house is wonderful--no buyer's remorse on any count--but the view from the deck is quite enough for me. I just stand there, leaning on the rails and let the trees speak peace to my soul.K. and I have a polite disagreement about the deck. She thinks the deck is a convenient place to put a sandbox for the kids, and I think the deck is mine, mine, Mine. We had a married couple over the other day and I was doing my usually grousing about how the sand is ruining my deck and the wife asked, "What is it with guys and decks?" I think they represent the male compromise with domesticity--if you need me, honey, I'll be right outside, cooking slabs of mammoth.

From the deck you can see where we've staked out our new garden and have begun to dig. Last Saturday I jumped on a flat-edged spade approximately 100 times, cutting a twenty by thirty foot perimeter for next year's peas and pumpkins. We need to rent a sod-cutter soon before the ground gets too hard, or we'll have to save all our prep work until the spring thaw. Today was already the second frost of the season, and K. went into the backyard to take some photos. The deck is nice, but have I mentioned that I love the backyard?