■ Just over a year ago, I bought my first house—all 720 square feet of it — along with a yard that looked like it had never been turned to anything but lawn. When I first saw the yard, on an unseasonably warm January day, I knew I could transform it into a vegetable paradise ringed with roses. I had boundless ambitions, a hatchback car, and a shovel, along with childhood memories of maintaining a vast garden with my mom.
I wasn’t quick enough last year to get much of anything growing, but I was determined to have a garden this year. I brought in dozens of loads of compost, topsoil, and mulch, piling them into low raised beds bordered by scrap wood I had scrounged from neighborhood driveways on…