Photo by Jillian Flesh
I grew up in a small town. It was the kind of place where neighbors spent their evenings outside working in their gardens and waving to everyone that drove by. It was known that when vegetables started coming in, you could help yourself. Neighbors would take tomatoes from our garden, and we’d later find a bag of peppers on our front porch.
It was a community.
When my kids and I moved onto a busy street, two blocks from downtown Kirkwood, one of the first things I noticed was my neighbors’ garden. In the middle of perfectly manicured lawns, they had two garden beds and a couple rows of corn in their front yard.
The garden, which Brett Dorrance and his wife, Jillian Flesh, now refer to as “Indie’s Garden,” after their 15-month-old daughter, has been an evolving project over the years.
“One year we grew like 700 radishes,” says Flesh. “I can’t even eat radishes anymore.”
They initially decided to plant in the front yard because “it has great sun exposure, and we knew from past experiences that you can’t grow anything around chickens if you plan on letting them roam in the yard,” Flesh explains.
They were nervous about the city’s reaction, but “the response has been pretty positive,” says Dorrance. (Their home was one of the stop's on the recent Sustainable Backyard Tour.)
“Each year we get a little more bold with what we put in.” Flesh adds, “We wondered if corn would be the thing that Kirkwood said no to.”
“The neighbors don’t seem to mind,” says Dorrance. “I’m sure they think we’re just a bunch of weird hippies.”
Dorrance and Flesh have been gardening for years. Their first garden was in South Dakota where they lived when they both worked as archeologists. “Whatever the Garden Center had, we put in the ground,” Flesh laughs. “Which is still kind of what we do. We figure they know.”
“It’s a learning process,” she says.
“Lots of trial and error,” adds Dorrance.
Their garden began with two raised beds teeming with peppers, herbs, tomatoes, onions, and other vegetables. “The hardest thing about urban farming is figuring out what you can plant because you don’t have a lot of space,” says Dorrance.
In the spring, their entire front yard was dug up to replace a water line. They saw it as an opportunity to transform their front yard into an edible landscape.
“We got addicted and knew we could grow so much more,” says Flesh. “When you’re confined to space, you feel like you’re missing out on things.”
Photo by Jillian Flesh
Photo by Ashley Fisher
Brett Dorrance, Indie, and Jillian Flesh
Flesh began researching edible landscapes on Pinterest, and Dorrance worked with a friend, the owner of West Design Creative Landscapes, to see the idea to fruition. They used permanent plants and rocks when there weren’t plants to give the garden structure and planted in a way that is aesthetically pleasing. “I wanted the yard to look pretty for the neighbors, the community, and for ourselves,” Flesh says.
“Now that we have more space, we’re planting more things. We planted more onions and garlic this year,” says Dorrance.
They rotate three different crops in one growing season: spring, summer, and fall. Flesh is considering planting kale in the winter to give the yard some color.
“I wanted chickens, not because of the eggs, but because I wanted more pets,” Flesh admits. It should be no surprise that, like all pets, their chickens have names: Cadbury, Benedict, Eggnog, Scramble, and Ham, to name a few.
Perhaps one of the biggest challenges with their larger garden is figuring out what to do with all the produce. “You plant a bunch of stuff and it’s all ready at the same time. It’s like I have 12 pounds of broccoli, and I’ve been eating it for three days straight,” Dorrance laughs. “I’m getting really tired of broccoli.”
“One year we grew like 700 radishes,” says Flesh. “I can’t even eat radishes anymore.”
They preserve as much food as possible. Dorrance, who is a local chef, cans and has started fermenting. He makes salsa with the tomatoes and sauerkraut with the cabbage.
Flesh does most of the weeding. “It’s a de-stressor for me,” she says. “Plus, I want Indie to know that the food on her plate doesn’t come from a grocery store; it comes from someone’s hard work.”
Dorrance and Flesh are teaching Indie to appreciate where all her food comes from. “We thank the chickens each morning when we collect eggs,” she says.
They have had chickens for six years. “I wanted chickens, not because of the eggs, but because I wanted more pets,” Flesh admits. It should be no surprise that, like all pets, their chickens have names: Cadbury, Benedict, Eggnog, Scramble, and Ham, to name a few.
Flesh compares their life to a YouTube video that jokes about chickens being the gateway livestock and that once you have eggs, you want fresh feta so you get a goat, and so on and so forth.
The corn is now on the side of their house. They have planted apple trees in their back yard, and they have two bee hives with nearly 100,000 bees.
“The bees were her idea,” says Dorrance, “and now they’re my pets.”
“They’re terrifying,” Flesh laughs.
Most evenings I find Flesh–often still in the dress she wore to work–and Indie in the garden. Indie totters around, while Flesh pulls weeds and picks produce.
She waves as I pull into my driveway, and I go over to say a few words before going inside. I typically leave with a bag of produce, and that feels very familiar.
