Level up and make your bed: Hugelkultur drives our frugal culture

By Michelle Cote
The Rookie Mama

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, gardening is a solid metaphor for raising kiddos. You plan, you plot, and once your sweet sturdy seedlings are firmly planted, ready to take on this world, you can only hope the fruits of your labor thrive on up despite unpredictable elements and cautions thrown to wind that comes their way.

And – it’s a dirty business.

My husband and I have exponentially upped our vegetable gardening game since becoming parents a teenaged handful of years ago, and though we do this in part for the unbridled joy and satisfaction it brings, and sunshine felt, growing our own greens is also an absolute necessity in order to feed our large by today’s standards family.

We’ve built a series of raised beds in recent years to be kind to our future backs. And though we function as a DIY compost family operation, the truth is we don’t produce quite enough to fill enormous beds when they are newly built from scratch.

Enter the centuries-old Hugelkultur – pronounced ‘hoo-gul-culture’ – which leads our frugal culture. If you have access to logs, branches, other organic materials and kiddos with helping hands, this German gardening technique – literally translating to ‘mound bed’ – is a fun workout for the entire family.

Move over, Peleton.

Hugelkultur is a foundation of large logs or other woody debris layered up compost, leaves, grass clippings and organic matter, then topped with garden soil. As these materials decompose, water is retained, weeds suppressed, nutrients released, and the stage is set for a well-drained growing extravaganza.

And because these logs and branches are literally found items around the property, that’s where the frugal part comes in.

Debris – It’s free!

Yet having so much of it for this purpose helps us feel rich.

A few weeks ago, our older children dragged over some cut logs we’d recently chopped, and we stacked and organized them in the bottoms of our two newest beds.

My husband chopped larger logs in half to fit.

Like building a fire, that same excitement, that anticipation filled us. We’d recently pruned our orchard trees and other plants and saved the trimmings just for this purpose. Even our littlest was in on the action and tossed those branches and boughs into helpful heaps.

Before we knew it, we beheld a beautiful lasagna rich with organic materials – just no ricotta cheese.

We’ve since topped each bed with gorgeous compost in the top third and planted our seeds and seedlings.

The invaluable strength of simple logs and branches – Did I mention it’s free?

This past Sunday morning we toted our boys to a salvage store and our 4-year-old asked for a metal rake and shovel set just his size so he could help in the garden.

Help he did, as he assisted in transplanting strawberries, kale, potatoes, melon, asparagus, beans, cukes, and more yummy favorites.

We can only hope to feast on what grows of it in the future and preserve for winter.

We made our beds, so to speak, and so now we lie.

And I’d be lying if I said getting my littlest involved was a straightforward, easy breeze.

Eventually he scampered off to play with toy tractors.

But I must remind myself to grow patient while growing greens, that these are teachable moments and life skills for next-generation gardeners while their attention is rapt.

Laying solid foundations and weaving in frugal living skills – We can do this.

And so we wait.

For harvest, for fruits of labor built on that free debris.

And in the meantime, I’ve now worked up an appetite for lasagna.

With all the ricotta cheese.

­­– Michelle Cote lives in southern Maine with her husband and four sons, and enjoys camping, distance running, biking, gardening, road trips to new regions, arts and crafts, soccer, and singing to musical showtunes – often several or more at the same time!