For about two years, the “path” to my back garden was a strip of dead grass that turned into soup every time it rained. I kept telling myself I’d get around to a proper walkway, which in my head meant a weekend of digging, a rented compactor, and a bill with a comma in it.…
The first walkway I ever built was a disaster. I bought twelve flagstones on a Saturday, dropped them straight onto the grass, and called it a path. By the end of that first spring they had sunk, tilted, and turned into a very expensive ankle-sprain obstacle course. Everyone who came over walked on the lawn…
I once ordered flagstone for a small back path, did the math on a napkin, and had a pallet delivered that was about 40 percent too small. The delivery driver looked at me with real sympathy. The second pallet came from a different quarry lot, and the color was noticeably warmer, so for the next…
The first house I ever rented had a concrete front walk with a crack running down the middle like a lightning bolt. I used to joke that it gave the place character. Then I spent a Saturday at a friend’s 1920s bungalow, where the walkway was old brick, worn smooth and slightly uneven, with moss…
For the first two years in my last house, there was a dirt stripe running from the back door to the garden gate. I’d made it myself, one muddy trip at a time, and every spring it turned into a little creek. I kept telling myself I’d “deal with it later,” which is how most…
When we first moved in, my walkway to the front door was a slightly crooked 30-inch strip of concrete that ran dead straight from the driveway and stopped about a foot short of the steps. Delivery drivers used it as a suggestion. My sister, who has opinions about everything, stood at the bottom on the…
For the first four years in my house, the side yard was where I stored things I didn’t want to think about: a broken wheelbarrow, two recycling bins, and a hose that had given up. Every trip to the backyard meant squeezing through a muddy gap between the siding and the fence, and I once…
The first walkway I ever installed myself was a row of cheap concrete stepping stones I bought on sale for $2.49 each. I spaced them by eye, skipped the base layer entirely, and felt very proud of myself for about six weeks. Then the spring rains came, half the stones tilted like bad teeth, and…
The first year after I laid my front path, I planted a row of tidy little perennials along both sides and felt very pleased with myself. By July, the catmint had tripled, the salvia had flopped sideways, and my “walkway” was a 14-inch strip you had to turn sideways to use. Our mail carrier started…