Aahhh…the sights and sounds of a new spring: baby birds chirping, cheers from a Little League game, brightly colored blooms in my flower bed.
As the spring draws on into summer, it’s a safe bet that the birds will leave the nest and the Little Leaguers have had a fun season of baseball. While the birds and baseball players have grown and matured, the same cannot be said for the flowers in the yard…they’ll be dead.
I am a horrible gardener.
I estimate in my lifetime I have killed dozens if not hundreds of plants. Yup, I am a cold-blooded murderer. If plants had a post office, my picture would be hanging on the wall.
Murder might be too strong of a word; I certainly didn’t intend for any of those plants to die. So let’s call it plant- slaughter, because my intentions were good.
Years ago, someone bought me a fern as a house-warming gift and told me it was impossible to kill. Wrong! Another time I killed a cactus. A cactus? It didn’t even need water, and I couldn’t keep it among the living. And it’s a good thing Christmas season is about a month long because I couldn’t keep a Douglas Fir green for any longer. Just to be on the safe side, we converted to an artificial tree years ago.
Yet, given my black thumb and criminal plant record, it doesn’t stop me from venturing out into the garden once the days grow longer. Every spring I have grandiose plans to improve backyard quality of life and increase curb appeal through my horticultural abilities. Every fall I am sorely disappointed by the lack of flowering and/or crop yield. For I am Linus, and alas my Great Pumpkin never shows up.
!Upon thoughtful introspection, I’m clearly in denial with regards to how much I like to garden. When we bought our home, I fell in love with the half dozen citrus trees along the back edge of our yard. Why would a backyard with orange trees be a selling point for me? I don’t know anything about taking care of them and I haven’t suffered from scurvy in over 40 years.
Last year the plan was to grow a small vegetable and herb garden: plant with the kids, eat healthier, expand their palettes. I started out strong. I dug down and mixed in nutrients and good soil. I added irrigation to the area. I researched what kind of plants would grow given the exposure. I planted. I watered. I waited.
Then, probably around June, I got distracted. There were a lot of activities with the boys at the end of the school year. Add to that the new watering restrictions, plus I forgot to construct that little fence for the beans to climb up (or was the fence for the carrots? ) And then disaster struck in the form of a midsummer thunderstorm. While the rain was much needed, I had not solved some drainage issues and half the garden spilled into the walkway.
As you can imagine, our produce haul was less than bountiful–a handful of radishes so small they might confused for bitter skittles. Still, Jenni utilized what the “land” had provided and put them in a salad. So, a few bites later, the great Matsumoto garden experiment had come to a close.
But what’s this?
Lo and behold, against all my efforts to destroy life, something has sustained. Lettuce planted last year has found a foot hold and is attempting to thrive. In fact, I bet there’s enough here for several salads.
Spurred on by my lettuce success, I will most likely try my hand at some gardening efforts this year. As I make plans for Spring Planting ’15, I will try to find the appropriate balance in caring for plants—somewhere between all-out neglect and Lennie from Of Mice And Men. Just like they teach you in kindergarten, that tiny seed contains everything it needs to live; my goal is just not to mess it up. So it turns out gardening is just like parenting: plants, just like children, can survive in spite of us.
