Episode 1: Planting
Cate & Michael Clarence move into their new home
Hey there. I’m trying something a little different this round…looking at this newsletter from a different angle, under a different light. So we can hopefully kind of, see it for the first time…is that okay? But I’m gonna need your help though, and your permission…
What follows is Part 1 of a short series of Choose Your Own Adventure fiction—where each chapter ends with a Reader Poll (open for 3 days after sending) to determine what the character does next. Play along! None of this is planned out…I’ll discover along with you.
They moved into the house one unseasonably sweaty Saturday in March. After weeks of searching and openhousing and prequalifying…getting their hopes up and dashed a few memorable times…Cate and Michael Clarence finally unlocked the front door of their fresh new life and stepped inside.
Their dreamhouse was a developer’s flip; picked up at county auction, modernized and spruced up handsomely, and listed priced to move. A miracle deal, even with their escalation clause kicking in…
From their first openhouse tour, Cate already knew where she wanted her garden. Right in the back fence corner, where the sun arc would be perfect. Where the neglected thatch of weeds grew heaviest—part of the allure for her. Taming the urban wilds. Returning the feral to the bountiful fold.
For Michael it was all about the kitchen. The stout six-burner and the powerful hood-vent above. Soft-close drawers and cabinet doors, sleek quartzite countertops and the deep farmhouse sink with disposal and gooseneck faucet…and a span of butcherblock that got his knife knuckles twitching.
Cate unpacked her gardening tools first, after all the indoor bare essentials—and went to work with claw-tiller and hoe as soon as she had time…freeing her corner of earth from years of hardpack bondage and neglect. Powered by her devoted frown of joyful destruction, and armored under a frayed straw hat & moviestar shades that kept slipping down the sunscreened slope of her nose.
For their first several days in their new house, Cate spent every rare spare moment alternately watering and chopping and shaping the ground into a fluffy dark patch of corduroy furrows, roughly double the dimensions of their california king mattress.
“Looks like that Oreo pudding dessert my mom used to make,” Michael observed. “With the gummyworms.”
“You mean…Dirt Cake?” Cate eyed him skeptically.
“No, that doesn’t sound right…”
That long weekend, they went back to their old place to tie up some loose ends…and when they returned Tuesday morning, Cate’s garden was overgrowing already with new weeds, dropped by wayward winds and passing birds. Unfazed, she reached for hoe and gloves, and strode outside with purpose flashing in her chestnut eyes.
“This is great,” she called back over her sun-sheened shoulder. “Seeds sprouting so fast means the soil is super fertile and nutrient rich.”
Then she systematically hacked all the hopeful weedlings into the moist dark dirt, reshaped her furrows, and spent the rest of the afternoon transplanting sprouts from her egg-carton starters a few days early; sowing her intended produce in neat rows, hopeful claims staked with bamboo & sharpie labels.
“I didn’t even bother adding bonemeal or worms,” Cate marveled over dinner. “Never seen raw backyard soil so rich before. This is delicious by the way…”
“Mmm thanks,” Michael nodded through his own mouthful of sautéed hen-of-the-woods. He sipped it down with pinot. “So what are you planting?”