I am a pitiful in-the-ground gardener. If I pot the plants in containers, I am less of a pitiful gardener, but it’s still pretty ugly.
My mother, The German, is an amazing gardener. She can look at something and scare it green. Me, not so much.
Exhibit A (an article I wrote a spring or so back):
My Garden Is Giving Me The Finger
I’m annoyed. It’s almost summertime (HA! Who else in Texas just shot sweet tea out their nose?!) and the promise of a garden full of veggies has not materialized for me and my brownish thumbs. I had such glorious visions of homegrown pico and fat juicy slices of Big Boys on my burgers.
Instead, my garden is giving me the finger.
It should look like a massive tangle of green, dotted with ripening fruit. Instead the plants are a sad looking bunch of non-producers and all around malcontents.
My garden hates me and I’m hurt because I gave it everything: water, fertilizer, loving encouragement. Where did I go wrong?
What did I ever do to you?!
This was my second springtime to plant. Will there be a third? I don’t know. The wound is still too deep. The pain is still so fresh.
Maybe I just need some space and perspective. Maybe I should toss the containers and put in a pool.
Swimming. I’m good at that.
Take that you scrawny pitiful excuses for tomato plants.
P.S. Whatever you do, don’t share this with The German and her emerald thumbs. She’ll just blame it all on me…
There you have it. I pretty much suck at gardening. BUT….this year is the year; I feel it. The sadness over my failure is muted just enough to start afresh, with an idealized image of what the garden will look like, instead of the horrifying images of what it actually looked like.
Oh, ever the optimist!
With any luck, in about 90 days I’ll be showing off my tomatoes and handing over my pico recipe.
What about you guys? Green thumbs? Brown thumbs? All thumbs?