Spent the weekend in the yard…of course, right? The neglected southwest corner of our property lies in wait for a future shed. Originally we envisioned a handcrafted wooden shed with shingles and paint. Now we laugh at our naivete. Wood sheds are devoured in this weather by rain, rot, and the elements. They’re also a hell of a lot of work to build. While it isn’t the most attractive alternative, our research has shown: plastic is best.

So we rented a truck and hauled dirt and pea gravel from Sayers fuel. On Sunday we made a dump trip. In earnest attempt to carve out a place for a shed, we starting digging–only to find bags of garbage buried in the yard. Every now and then the cagey, dilapidated, history of our house sneaks into our lives. We know that at one point our little house was probably left for dead, pulled out of destruction by our neighbors who invested in it during a time when the market was good. We also know that whoever drove it to the state of abandon had a fondness for doritos, m&ms, and cans of shasta. Beneath the soil lies layers of waste, broken glass, wrappers, midst a secret stash of garbage bags hidden under the weeds. No wonder grass never grows on this side of the property! How were we to know we had a dump buried in our backyard?

“It’s as if our house is a cleaned up whore–nice and clean now but hidden away is a secret past,” I said. “Our house has baggage.” We can’t think of anything better then to dig out what we can, cover the ground with sand and pea gravel, and then plop a shed on top. But when we arrive at Costco, the shed we had finally settled on was gone. Sold out. I was devastated having rented the truck to haul it off and everything. With sadness, Josh and I left Costco with nothing but dinner: a hotdog, a piece of pizza, and a very berry sundae to split. We found a picnic table at the edge of the parking lot, right near the Costco Employee Evacuation Site, and ate our food in the fading sun.