the other day i overheard a couple talking. they were on a walk, and had stopped in front of our house to look at my oh so chic wine bottle border. the conversation went somewhat like this:
her: "i love that. what a great idea."
him: "yeah, until you weed wack near it and the bottles break."
ugh! men can be so annoyingly practical sometimes.
i decided to start saving wine bottles a few years back. i initially thought it would be cool to make one of those great houses... think small... tool shed/art room. you know the ones where the bottles are inserted into the walls so from the outside you just see the bottom of the bottle... all the light coming through those circles of glass. however, i knew that that project would be nowhere near the top of the to do list... i am practical sometimes, no? but i did want to use the bottles for something.
enter the wine bottle garden border.
we tend to have gopher problems in our neck of the woods. therefore, i am always trying to make raised beds... that i can line with hardware cloth... or some other hard material that can't easily be chewed through. i thought that building up the ground a bit, and holding back the dirt could be done by wine bottles. and i was right! i love the way it looks, it is free and i feel good about the three r's: reduce, reuse, recycle.
i have had a couple of comments from people about the amount of wine that was consumed to make the said borders. i have them throughout the yard... but that is the thing with wearing things on your sleeve.
i don't go through life hiding my whiskey bottles at the bottom of the trash can, so i am a target for these comments from judgy people. but that's okay. and anyway, you will also find many green, square bottles....olive oil and balsamic vinegar. the big ol' hard core bottles that will set you back a few bucks. which just goes to show that wine is just a part of my healthy mediterranean diet.
but in all fairness to the husband mentioned above.... you should be careful. because a weed wacker will send shards of glass flying.
( i no longer have my husband weed wack in the garden.)