Like many experiences in life, the process of planting a garden has its ups and downs. By the end of summer, the gardener is likely to have run the gamut of emotions and acquired more than a few blisters along the way.
I may not have the greenest thumb in the valley, and certainly not the most experience in growing my own fruits and vegetables, but I have planted a few gardens in my time – and the following is a breakdown of my expectations for the season ahead, based on seasons before. Stage 1: Excitement.
You have a plan – you’ve made a list of all the garden-fresh goods you want to enjoy in a few months time, now all you have to do is go to the greenhouse, purchase some seedlings and start planting. Sounds easy – even fun – right? Within a few minutes of shopping, however, you realize there are way more varieties than you remember and plants you hadn’t thought of purchasing … what could a few more items hurt? It’s just a little more money and time. Stage 2: Continued enthusiasm.
You arrive home with a trunk full of cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, various seed packets, and a few flowers thrown in for good measure. You’re optimistic and ready to get dirty.
Stage 3: The first hitch.
Fast forward a few hours later. You’ve run out of room in your garden, and you still have several plants left. You can’t find last year’s tomato stands – although there is a twisted pile of metal you suspect might have been something similar once. The sprinkler is plugged, and you’re just plain exhausted. Somehow, you make it work. The cucumbers won’t be as far apart as suggested on the planting instructions, but it’ll be fine. Right? Stage 4: So it begins.
It’s been a few weeks now, and your seeds are starting to sprout. That is, the seeds the birds didn’t peck out of the ground hours after you planted. And the tomatoes and peppers look great– that is, the plants the rabbits didn’t nibble into tiny, green stalks. Also, there’s hail in the forecast. Stage 5: The weeds.
The first time you weeded your garden – maybe even the first several times – you did it with such care, crawling on your hands and knees and plucking every unwanted growth with the precision of a surgeon. It was immaculate. These days, you take the hoe out and half-heartedly hack at the Lamb’s Ear choking out your corn crop. Maybe the corn will make it, maybe it won’t.
Stage 6: The fruits of your labor.
Against all odds, you have something to show for all your hard work. You enjoy fried zucchini, fresh tomatoes, peeled and salted cucumbers, carrots and more. But soon, it’s more than you can handle. Cucumbers pile up – the plants (the ones you put a little too close together) begin to take over the garden. You have zucchini the size of your thighs – and more tomatoes than you can shake a stick at. At first, friends and family were happy to take the extra vegetables off your hands … these days, they turn off the lights and pretend they aren’t home when you come knocking with a five-gallon bucket full of green goodies. Stage 7: Acceptance.
Frost hits the area. Your gardening days are done for another year. You feel relieved, but a bit sad when you look out at the withered, brown vines and remaining mushy vegetables – and you’re already planning how you’ll do it all differently next spring.
