In which we inherit a garden

I swear that I can't make this stuff up.  That would be too hard.  These things just seem to happen - and it don't make no sense.

We have now inherited a garden...from my school.

How the cuss did you mange that, you ask?  Well...

Ya see I am a 2nd grade teacher at a local elementary school.  This year I had a Fan-tabulous co-teacher who decided that the children needed to be closer to their food so she and the kids all planted a garden in the big courtyard outside of our classroom.  I didn't help much - other than supervising the kiddos while we were outside.  Me and plants...we don't get along so well.  The kids not so jokingly say that I kill them.  (Animals I'm good with, probably because they let me know when they need food and water.)  ANYways, our building is under construction this summer and we were told that our summer garden, which is in raised beds, would be fine.  Au contraire, mon frere!  My co-teacher got a call from the school this week and, wouldn't ya know it, the construction crew needs to put plumbing, of all things, where?  You guessed it...right where we have our raised garden beds.

Soooo...We are inheriting the garden on Friday.  The Hus-Man and I, along with Jennifer (the Thelma to my Louise), will be digging up plants and hauling dirt back to my house of little sun to see what we (I mean, the Hus-Man) can do to save our little (4 - 4x8 raised beds) garden.