#built raised planters

[sevenlittledwarfs]

Contemporary Deck

Example of a mid-sized trendy backyard deck container garden design with no cover

[sinuousmag]

Contemporary Deck Example of a mid-sized trendy backyard deck container garden design with no cover

[panela-na-janela]

Landscape Retaining Walls Manchester Summertime photograph of a small, modern courtyard with retaining walls and decking.

[stlinzk]

Outdoor Kitchen in Portland

Example of a huge trendy backyard concrete paver patio kitchen design

[gaboobers]

Beach Style Patio - Gravel Ideas for a substantial coastal backyard gravel patio renovation

[charlierises]

Calgary Landscape Fire Pit

Design ideas for a huge courtyard landscaping with a fire pit.

[cgtaxpe]

Outdoor Kitchen Outdoor Kitchen

An enormous contemporary backyard concrete paver patio kitchen design example

[erkiengill]

Calgary Pergolas Deck Outdoor kitchen deck - huge backyard outdoor kitchen deck idea with a pergola

[ahu-gozlumm]

Beach Style Patio - Gravel Ideas for a substantial coastal backyard gravel patio renovation

[raininginthenight]

Calgary Pergolas Deck Outdoor kitchen deck - huge backyard outdoor kitchen deck idea with a pergola

[catalaans]

Contemporary Patio in Manchester Ideas for a mid-sized modern backyard renovation with a concrete paver patio kitchen

[porraelmo]

Calgary Landscape Inspiration for a large traditional partial sun backyard formal garden with decking.

[yxminotenshi]

Boston Patio Mid-sized trendy backyard concrete patio container garden photo with no cover

[marlynnofmany]

Downhill Speed

You know what's a shame? Wasted potential.  Like this new place we were doing business, which was all swooping walkways and ramps — a spectacular opportunity for hoverboard fun, except for the fact that it would probably cause a massive diplomatic incident. The locals were an exceptionally stuffy and dignified species. I couldn't tell if they walked that slowly out of choice or necessity, though the planters full of edibles leaves every few yards felt like a clue. These guys were always chewing, as if they'd run out of the energy to move if they stopped.

I don't know. Maybe they were just like that for cultural reasons. But they kinda did look like koala-sloths in fancy robes. 

And as much as I wanted to find something with wheels or thrusters to ride whooping down the walkways, I didn't want to get our courier ship blacklisted from this sector of space. 

So I just waited patiently while Captain Sunlight worked out the details, and I helped Paint and Mur transfer the pile of small boxes from their hoversleds to ours. I didn't even comment on the inefficiency of all these small crates and multiple hoversleds when they could have had them strapped together in a pallet. Maybe the things came from multiple houses. Not my business. 

But then. One of the locals dropped a box.

It landed on a corner and cracked right open, to a chorus of horrified gasps, and its contents rolled out — a single glowy blue sphere, all sparkly and beautiful, the size of a bowling ball and just as fast. It gathered speed down the ramp while locals cried out helplessly. 

Well if that's not my cue, I don't know what is.

I jumped on a hoversled and flashed off after it, kicking madly to catch up. This was more awkward than I expected. I was out of practice — it had been a long time since I zipped between college classes on a proper board — and this was definitely not that. The little hoversled clearly wasn’t built for speed. It vibrated under me like it was panicking about the velocity we were going, and I couldn’t blame it.

This ramp was a pretty straight one so far, which was great, because I had no real way to steer. I’d kicked to a proper pace, and now I balanced with both feet planted and both arms out like an absolute amateur. But I didn’t want to tip over. I was closing in on the ball.

It made an ominous rumble along the floor.

It was just two yards away.

There was a corner coming up.

The ball was one yard away.

I crouched.

And I grabbed it, tucking it against my chest with one arm while I clutched the edge of the hoversled with the other, sitting down just before I slammed into the clear wall at the corner.

That was some painful skidding. I put my feet down to slow things further, which ended up spinning me around, dragging my feet behind me. But I didn’t drop the ball. And I probably didn’t get any friction burns through my sleeve, though I’d definitely have to check that later.

For now, I was busy sliding to a stop and taking a few deep breaths before standing up. As my blood stopped pounding in my ears quite so loudly, the realization trickled in that people were making a lot of noise around me.

Good noise? I think. Whew.

It took a second to be sure, but those were cheers of praise. Either this ball was an important holy item, or the stunt I’d pulled to catch it was just that impressive. Possibly both. I wouldn’t know until I got back up to the top, because there wasn’t anyone nearby to ask.

But they were hurrying down to meet me, as much as their species could be said to hurry. I found the height adjustment on the hoversled and raised it to where I could tow it without bending down, then started the long walk back up. I held the pretty blue sphere close.

When the koala-sloths met me in the middle, galloping with an undignified flapping of robes, they thanked me profusely for catching the high explosive before it leveled the place.

Multiple responses ran through my head.

I ended on “You might consider better packaging for it.”

They agreed, taking it from me (to my relief) and pulling the hoversled as well. By the time we reached the top, our entire crew was going to town with bubble wrap on the other boxes, and Captain Sunlight had arranged a significantly higher delivery fee.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[hardly-an-escape]

growth | Buck/Tommy | 1236 words | rated T

tags: Tommy Kinard character study, gardening

A few weeks before Tommy picked up Howie's call and ended up flying four members of his former station into a hurricane – and incidentally inviting the beautiful hurricane that was Evan Buckley into his life – he'd planted an herb garden.

In retrospect, he wasn't even sure why he'd done it. He wasn't much of a gardener, and neither was he a particularly gifted home chef. His backyard looked nice, but it wasn't exactly artistic; there were no carefully-curated flower beds or beautiful raised plots overflowing with homegrown vegetables. Likewise, when he cooked at home, he stuck to the same handful of fairly utilitarian meals: spaghetti with turkey meatballs and sauce from a jar, or brown rice and baked salmon and green beans. Not that his food wouldn't have benefited from fresh herbs — it just didn't need it.

And yet, for some reason, he got off a shift and twenty minutes later found himself wandering the lumber aisles in the Lowe's near his house, 48 hours off ahead of him and a random home improvement magazine clutched in one hand.

Tommy's house was a little two bedroom bungalow, which the realtor had called "cozy" and Tommy would have described as "cramped" if he wasn't kind of a minimalist by nature (and more interested in the detached garage). The kitchen was small but functional, and located at the back of the house, which faced south. It had a big window over the sink, and a back door that opened out onto a small cedar deck that had been Tommy's first DIY project after he bought the place.

It wasn't the best deck in the world. It sloped a little to one side, and he'd applied the finish a little unevenly. But he was still proud of it.

He chose similar cedar boards for the herb garden. Built a counter kind of thing, a little taller than elbow height, with spaces where planters could nestle in and a shelf below for storage. He set it on the deck right below the kitchen window, thinking that once the plants got tall enough, he'd be able to see them through the window, maybe while he was doing dishes or something.

Maybe the green would be inspiring. Maybe he'd go out to the deck and trim a few sprigs of something to throw on his salmon. Add a little flavor to his life.

Tommy snorted to himself. Add a little flavor to his life. Who did he think he was? And yet...

He built the framework. Bought some terracotta planters. Went to a garden store the next day, carefully chose a big bag of potting soil and some seedlings and organic fertilizer and, a little self-consciously, a small blue enamelware watering can. He thought it might look nice on the storage shelf beneath the planters.

He started with just the basics, things that sounded familiar, like he might actually use them sometime: basil, mint, cilantro, oregano. Rosemary, because it reminded him of his mother.

Against all odds, the herb garden thrived. Tommy did discover the hard way that it really needed to be watered every day, when he came home from three OT shifts in a row to find his basil plants more than a little blasted by the LA sun. He rigged up a slightly janky DIY self-watering system with an old wine bottle, and that seemed to do the trick.

He still didn't really know what he was doing. Or why he was doing it. But he liked his herbs. It felt good to go out on the deck in the morning, and drink his coffee while he plucked the few weeds that appeared, and made sure the soil was properly moisturized.

Then Howie called.

Then Evan somersaulted into his life and looked at Tommy with stars in his eyes and sprained his best friend's ankle. Evan let Tommy kiss him in his kitchen, out of the blue, two fingers digging into the stubble on his chin. Evan asked him out for coffee and asked him for a second chance and asked him to a wedding.

Three weeks to the day after their disappointing first date, Evan came over to Tommy's house for the first time. The plan was that they would make dinner together and then walk down to the park in Tommy's neighborhood that was showing movies every Friday and Saturday, projecting them on a big inflatable screen.

He honestly wasn't sure whether they would make it to the movie this time, either – but now it was more because they seemed to have a hard time keeping their hands off one another whenever they were within arms' reach. He'd let the evening unspool in his head before Evan ever arrived: a nice dinner, and then dessert on the deck, and conversation, and then, when the mosquitos got too bad, a glass of wine in the living room, lights low, hands wandering. He didn’t really care about the movie.

They hadn't used the word "boyfriend," yet. But Tommy knew what it meant, if you asked a man to come over and cook you dinner at 7:00 PM in your own house.

So, Evan arrived, that first time. Tommy gave him the nickel tour, not that there was much to see – the living room, with its sparse bookshelf and much more robust DVD shelf; the office-slash-guest room; the master bedroom and the painfully obviously freshly-made bed; the garage and the car lift and Muay Thai mats. Evan was polite, complimentary, interested in the renovations Tommy had made during the five years he’d owned the place.

It wasn’t until they walked out on the deck that he’d shown real excitement.

“Look at this!” he cried, gravitating toward Tommy’s weird little herb garden like a puppy to a chew toy. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

“It’s – it’s nothing much,” Tommy said awkwardly. “Just something new I built a couple weeks ago. I don’t even know what to do with them, really.”

“You built this?” Evan said, enchanted, and Tommy watched him run his fingers along the sanded cedar frame, and bury his face in the fragrant plants, and rub one basil leaf gently between two fingertips and bring his fingers to his nose, breathing deep and turning to Tommy with a smile on his face. “This is incredible.”

“You think?” said Tommy, uncertain.

“Yeah, I think,” said Evan, beaming, and crossed the deck in two long strides and caught Tommy by the waist and kissed him, once, twice: brief, deep kisses that knocked Tommy’s whole world slightly off center. “Your oregano is gorgeous, it’s going to be absolutely perfect in the sauce.”

And then he whirled away, back inside, rattling around Tommy’s kitchen as if he belonged there, searching out pots and cutting boards and strainers. Tommy stood for a long moment in the middle of his own deck, slightly poleaxed, listening to Evan’s clatter with one ear and the burgeoning backyard crickets with the other, smelling the wafting scent of his herbs and the neighbors’ honeysuckle vines.

Oh, he thought. This is why I wanted an herb garden.

Because on some level, in some remote corner of his brain, he had known that Evan was waiting for him, a storm system just over the horizon. He’d needed to be ready for this. For making pasta sauce with fresh oregano, and kissing on the back deck, and growing something real.

read on AO3 >>>

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This gorgeous 1860, (reno'd in 2004), mansion in Bangor, Maine, is only $599,900. 5bds, 4.5ba, plus 2 guest suites w/kitchens & full baths. This is a bargain, it should be over $1M.

Beautiful fireplace and built-ins in the sitting room.

Love the crown molding and wallpaper in the dining room, but the inlaid flooring is magnificent.

They made a wine rack in part of the built-in cabinet.

Isn't this an elegant kitchen? There's a bas relief scene on the island and a smaller one on the matching exhaust hood.

Beautiful kitchen with such attention to details.

Check out the sunroom- they've got it set up with hydroponic growing units ($400ea.).

Spacious primary bedroom with nice built-ins and wainscoting.

Plus a big, luxurious en-suite.

The closet.

Stairs to the upper level bedrooms.

Another bath is a lovely vintage style.

Extra guest room up here.

Suite #1.

Suite #2 has a sauna and a sunken tub.

What a lovely garden gate. The lot measures .42 acre.

There's a patio.

Art in the garden.

And, a large area with raised planters.