Front lawns are, in origin, an affectation of the aristocracy. A large decorative meadow in front of one’s manor was a way to flaunt the fact that you owned so much land you could afford to waste it. They also waste a huge amount of water, which in an arid climate like San Diego is criminal. Finally, unless you imitate a natural balance of nitrogen-fixing plants like clover with your grasses you need to constantly fertilize a lawn. The runoff from chemically fertilized lawns creates a hideous soapy sludge of foam, bacteria and algae. Nitrogen run off is also the number one cause of beach closures in this town.
Our goal was always edible landscaping, with a few flowers and native plants, which would also be edible or medicinal. We only had the vaguest of ideas as to how it would look, but after nearly a year of experimentation we finally have a plan. This is how it evolved.
At first it was a problem we totally ignored. We were trying to make our stripped-out, mildew-infested, sewage-leaking ruin, into someplace we could actually live. Besides, when we first saw the property the lawn was completely brown and we assumed that the previous occupants had abused the front yard the way that they had abused the rest of the property. We were quite mistaken. We found out from the many gardeners that knocked on our door looking for work that a year ago the house was fronted by one of the best looking lawns of the street. This is further evidence for our coyote theory. They were keeping up appearances as people conducting illegal activities tend to do.
Without knowing this we assumed no one would care what our yard looked like. The rains came, and the weeds and grasses grew to spectacular heights. Our children gleefully discovered that the soil of the front yard was easier to dig in and our eldest dug a miniature WWI trench system. We planted the sprouts that sprung from compost pile and mulched them with straw. By spring we the front the Estate was a forest of weeds, muddy ditches with a big mound of straw in the middle. To make matters worse, periodically some grimy freak with Martin Van Buren’s mutton chops would be hanging out on the front porch in ripped paint-splattered suspender pants. People must have wondered if characters from Deliverance were squatting in an abandoned house.

I was just telling my friend I would want a garden with edible and medicinal plants. It seems the only sensible garden there is.
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